Rise of the Harlequin

by Roberto Ricci

  “No, it will not. The Blacks will then be replaced by the Red or the Blue or some other chrome. The only way to stop this chain, this agony, is to finally let go of this message. We must let go of our differences and concentrate on the similarities, remove the colors once and for all.”

  “You are mad!” she said. “It will never work!”

  “Am I? Surely you’ve seen for yourself that things are changing in the territories,” I told her. “The merchants on the Cancerian helped us against the Blacks. We saw Yellow and Orange united with Violets and Reds in distracting their cavalry. Everyone is tired of this constant friction between colors – they just haven’t yet discovered a way to openly express this. But I have. I will bring the Harlequins’ message to them. The time is ripe to build upon the dream your father had – to unite the territories. No more Blacks or Reds or Blues…”

  “…Just Harlequins!” she snapped. “That’s certainly one very convenient idea!”

  “No, not Harlequins, either. Just brothers and sisters,” I patiently explained. “No more masks, no more lies, no more deceit. Imagine it! No more boundaries, no more hate, just truth and…peace.”

  ““How do you plan to achieve that?” she asked, with hesitation. I could tell she felt guilty for even listening to my treasonous views and perhaps, for feeling, under the surface, that they made sense.

  “I don’t know yet,” I told her. “But I do know that this is the right way; it’s the only way.”

  “The only way you can unite chromes, Asheva, is to give them a common enemy. And the Blacks are the common enemy of today. You will succeed only if you are able to forge an alliance between the other territories against Axyum. The question is: are you ready to go against your nation?”

  “I no longer belong to one nation. All the territories are my nation.”

  “We shall see about that,” she then said provokingly. “Come, there’s no point in losing any more precious time.”

  “What do you have in mind?” I asked.

  “What I should have done beforehand, when my father was alive. Create a new coalition against the Blacks.”

  We then saddled the horse and rode out from the woods together – still not quite friends, but at least no longer foes.

  23. A New Alliance

  As we rode toward the Red Kingdom, Cestia insisted taking the reins of the horse. Stubborn as she was, in spite of her weak condition, she couldn’t control the mount. I let her find this out for herself. When she was willing to let go and trust me, I rode in front and she wrapped her hands around my waist. My skin tingled pleasantly at her touch and a host of butterflies fluttered inside my stomach.

  “Tell me again about your alliance between the territories,” I asked.

  “The Red army would constitute the heart of it,” she replied firmly. “There’s no better way to convince others than with swords and spears.”

  I sighed and shook my head.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Swords and spears will never reach a chrome’s heart,” I replied.

  “But they will reach his mind, and that’s good enough for me,” she said.

  “You won’t unite anything unless you have love,” I said repeating Failan’s words.

  “Oh, and you are an expert on love at your age?”

  I stammered: “I don’t mean ‘love’ like you mean it.”

  “And how do I mean it?” she teased.

  “Never mind,” I mumbled.

  I gently urged the horse into a gallop, wishing she would outrun my embarrassment. We shied away from the main roads and continued to zigzag through fields and wild valleys to avoid other chromes. Neither of us wore a mask and I still was dressed in my motley Harlequin costume.

  “We’re back in the Red Kingdom,” Cestia whispered in my ear, after some time had passed. “I recognize the landmarks.”

  To my far right, in the distance, I spied the large familiar rock where the Red city of Samaris had once stood. For a moment I thought I could see the white tower of the castle, even though I knew it was no longer there.

  “Should we head for Samaris?” I asked.

  “No, the Blacks are lurking everywhere inside that ruin, like rats. Keep riding north, toward those mountains.”

  She pointed to the mountains that had emerged in the distance.

  “At the foot of those mountains, the Orange territory begins. That’s where the remainder of my army is camped.”

  Her words broke slightly. As much as she tried to control herself, I could sense the anguish that welled up in her because of Samaris’ fall and the death of her father. We could not put the great Red city at our backs, soon enough.

  As we rode up the mountain grade, the air around us changed. It was cold, with a gusty wind that seemed to delight in making it colder. The mountains loomed huge before us and their color was a bright red-orange. I thought it was the setting sun that gave them their hues, but Cestia told me it was from a light colored, rusty clay that was unique to this region.

  Beneath the mountains, dense fields of ragged rushes dotted the plain. Then I saw some of them move. It wasn’t vegetation, I realized – these were herds of cattle; thousands of dark shaggy-haired brown bovines grazing peacefully in front of us!

  “Those mountain harpies have not wasted any time, I see…” She then said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Orange chromes have pushed their cattle in our territory. They have always tried to use this as a way to get our lands; with their herds first and then with their chromes. And now that the Blacks have ousted us, they’re already here.”

  “But this place is just off their mountains,” I commented. “Besides, you never used this land even before the Blacks attacked Samaris. I saw how you relied on the Orange and Yellow to provide you with their meats.”

  “Ah, how could I even expect someone as foreign as you to understand?” she replied, barely concealing her irritation. I did not press her, further by pointing out that the Red were using the Orange in a similar way by hiding out in their territory to regroup. I sighed. At this moment, tired and thirsty from the iron-bitter dust of the road that settled like grit on my teeth, the thought of uniting chromes who’d bickered with each other since the dawn of time really did seem like an impossible dream.

  “Slow the horse down,” said Cestia, “or you’ll scare the bovines and they’ll stampede.”

  At closer range, the Orange mountains looked like giant rotten teeth. Their rock faces had been carved into jagged points by the strong winds that blew throughout this region, but their tops had been worn into smooth plateaus, no doubt leveled by thousands of chrome feet who passed over them.

  I signaled the horse to halt and gazed at all directions.

  “I don’t see any soldiers,” I finally said.

  “I told you, they are hidden.”

  “Where?”

  “That’s for me to know.” She ripped a strip of cloth from her sleeve and tied it tight, over my eyes.

  “What are you doing? You really still think I would betray you?”

  “If you want me to trust you, then you have to begin by trusting me,” she replied.

  “Fair enough,” I said.

  She took our horse’s reins and we galloped along. Instinctively, I reached out to hold on to her. She slapped my arm and I almost fell.

  “Don’t you dare!” she snapped.

  “You might as well kick me down then!” I rebutted.

  “You still can’t ride a horse without your hands?” she said. “What kind of sad warrior are you?”

  “Humph!” I grabbed the back of the saddle with my hands, trying my best not to fall off. I must confess Cestia was beginning to seem like a foxfire flower; beautiful outside but surrounded by too many stinging thorns.

  With my eyes covered, I felt cold and disoriented. The steep incline and thinner air told me we were gaining altitude. My lips were dry and I was thirsty. “How long will it take to reach this hideout of yours?
” I asked Cestia.

  “We’ll get there soon enough. Now be quiet and let me concentrate.”

  “Concentrate on what?”

  “On finding my way,” she answered.

  A short while later, Cestia reined in our horse. The bitter wind slowly died down. I knew we must be somewhere that provided shelter because I no longer felt the cold.

  I then heard Cestia say: “We’re almost there. Do not speak once we arrive. Let me talk.” She removed my blindfold and, once my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw that I was in front of an ancient stone entrance to some sort of majestic shrine that had been sculptured directly into the flecked, golden-orange rock. It had several pillars half-carved in base relief that looked like the mountain need only shake them off for them to be liberated. I looked behind me. We were surrounded by high cliffs at the end of a narrow gorge.

  As Cestia unsaddled, four Red soldiers appeared from behind a boulder.

  “My Princess!” exclaimed one, bowing. “You are without a mask! Quick!” he addressed a comrade, “Fetch a mask for Her Royal Highness! And a mask for this…?” He looked at me, evidently at loss for words. Or perhaps he knew the right word to describe me but didn’t want to say it.

  “Your highness,” said the guard hesitatingly, “Is he…”

  “He is a Harlequin, yes,” she replied. “The Red Harlequin, no less! But we have nothing to fear from him.” She was quick to add. “As the leader of the Harlequins he has promised to use his fellow creatures to help us defeat the Black Army!”

  The first guard blew a horn he had roped around his shoulder. Dozens and dozens of soldiers gushed poured out of the stone entrance like red ants. “Take the Harlequin!” said the guard that had been speaking with Cestia.

  “Well… I’m so glad you did the talking.” I said to Cestia.

  “Wait!” she cried out. “Hold off! All of you!”

  “Your Highness, you have been deceived by this Harlequin,” said the guard. He grabbed Cestia’s arm and tried to pull her off our horse. “We’ll kill him to free you from his spell.”

  “Let go of me!” she shouted and quickly freed herself. “How dare you talk that way to your princess. I have not been deceived!”

  The other soldier returned with a new mask for her, this one an authoritative creation cast from silver and pearls. She put it on to gain control over her troops. She offered me one of the water bladders and we both drank deeply, as much to quench our thirst as to let things settle down and make sure all eyes were focused upon us before we spoke.

  “Now listen to me! All of you! Our city has fallen, but its spirit remains strong. I too am hewn from that spirit. I may be young, but I’ve learned well from Father. Do you think I would crumble or go mad from exposure to this mere creature? Surely I have proven myself to be made of stronger stuff than that!”

  Her soldiers mumbled assent. I was impressed by her ability to instantly command their attention. I had thought her to be a sheltered Noble, but she had the seasoned confidence of a ruler well beyond her years. Whereas I had learned to lead in the seminary of hard knocks, I now saw that she possessed a natural talent, no doubt inherited from her father.

  Cestia paused, for effect. “You think I came under my guest’s influence,” She continued. “Yet it was I who persuaded him to join our cause!”

  Now I was the one to be taken aback. I joined the Reds’ cause?

  The Red guard waved their swords and cheered her.

  “The Red will rise, again, against the Blacks,” she announced. “But in order to do so, we must make ourselves stronger, wiser and bolder than ever before.”

  The soldiers hurrahed. Cestia leaned forward, as if addressing each one confidentially. “Most important, the key to our victory lies in our willingness to be humble enough to seek out and win new allies, to defeat, once and for, every Black soldier in the territories!”

  No one rejoiced at this part of her speech.

  “We don’t want Harlequins” A guard shouted from the back. “I recognize him. He was in Samaris. He killed our soldiers!”

  “He killed King Quadrio!” another yelled.

  “He did not kill our king!” Cestia cried out, silencing the crowd. “I was there. I witnessed the truth of that tragic event with my own eyes and only now I have realized that it was Minister Oris that killed my father, our beloved king… He was in league with the Blacks. He betrayed us all!” She paused to let this news sink in. “As for the Harlequin…he risked his own life to save mine on the Cancerian road when my contingent was accosted by the Blacks.”

  “I was wounded during that skirmish and he sheltered me and healed my wounds. If I am here now,” cried Cestia, “it is because of him.”

  One soldier, hesitant to accept this news, half-heartedly blurted out: “But, Your Highness… he’s still…a Harlequin!”

  This time, I replied: “Indeed I am! But Harlequins are not your enemy! The Blacks are! I know them well and I can tell you they are out to conquer all of the territories. They will stop at nothing because their corrupt elders have spent generations convincing them that this is their religious destiny.”

  Cestia nodded in agreement and added: “They have disobeyed our Collective Laws by attacking our city and by bribing one of our leaders, so you see, we can only survive if we set aside our differences and forge an alliance with other chromes and Harlequins! Who is with me?”

  No one replied. She got down off the horse so she could walk among her subjects to convince them. I followed her. “I said… Who is with me?” Cestia shouted with passion. She raised her arm, but no one followed her example.

  Everyone remained silent and I felt many eyes on me. What I had privately feared was coming to pass: an alliance with Chromes, while a new idea, made sense – but joining with Harlequins – that was too mad for any Chrome to accept.

  “We will not fight alongside a Harlequin, your Highness” someone finally had the courage to speak up. The rest hesitantly nodded in approval.

  Cestia balled her hands into fists. “I am not asking you,” she hissed. “As your ruler, I am ordering you to fight alongside the Harlequin.”

  But one by one, the soldiers began to turn their back to Cestia.

  “How dare you!” she cried out

  “How dare you!” sniffed an unpleasant, tart voice behind us. A group of Reds, clothed with fine vermilion tunics and thick silver masks cut through the fighters and surrounded us. They were noble Ashis — members of the Red’s highest caste. They reminded me a lot of the Black elders in Axyum. The one who had spoken stepped forward. I remembered him from the feast of the candles ball: Erai, a spoiled, privileged and very sheltered chrome whom Cestia rejected in favor of dancing with me. There was no doubt in my mind that this chrome had not even unsheathed his sword during the fall of Samaris. I wondered if he recognized me now that I had no mask on. From the words that followed, I knew he had.

  “You had told us Cestia, you would go with some of our best soldiers to look for the Harlequin who had entered furtively into Samaris and had killed your father. And instead of bringing back his head, you return with him, very much alive. And with none of our soldiers. And after having declared that he was indeed the assassin of Quadrio, you now say that he is innocent and that even more incredible, the noble Minister Oris was the assassin. I think you owe us an explanation.”

  Unbelievable! The soldiers were looking at this impudent Ashi, hanging on his every word. And Erai was clearly enjoying his moment in the sun. “Let us not forget, this creature now knows our secret location. I say he’ll sell us out to the Blacks the first chance he gets. Did he not just admit, he knows them very well? Is that a slight Black accent I hear, hidden in his strange manner of speech?”

  “You are wrong, Erai, it is not…” Cestia began.

  “Of course, it is not your fault my Princess,” he cut her off in a patronizing way. “You are younger than most of us here and, I dare say, untried. It is in the nature of things for the young to make mistakes.
That is why your father wanted me to be at your side. Always.”

  He certainly wasn’t that much older than either me or Cestia, I thought, and yet he was getting away with all this nonsense.

  Erai then turned his mask to face his fellow nobles.

  “Isn’t that what Quadrio had told us, many times over, my friends?”

  One of them picked up Erai’s cue and chimed in: “Yes! Quadrio was wary about you Cestia. He said you were prone to flights of fancy and feared you might not be fit to rule.”

  Cestia made the mistake of letting her temper spark. “What it does sound like is that this is all treasonous!”

  “There you see? She is delusional, most likely from her ordeal.” Erai closed in for the kill. “Why don’t we continue these discussions afterward, Cestia? As for this Harlequin, there’s is only one thing we can do to ensure our safety here- kill him!”

  As if waiting for this moment all his life, another one of the nobles quickly shouted: “Guards, seize this Harlequin and cut off his head, immediately!”

  “Wait!” screamed Cestia. She threw herself in front of me, ignoring how mad such an action would appear to her people. “I vouch for him.”

  “My dear Princess,” Erai wheedled. “Have you not understood? You cannot vouch for anyone any longer. Not even for yourself.”

  “He saved my life. I will not let him die alone. If you kill him, you must kill me, too.”

  “You owe me nothing!” I whispered to her ear.

  “Yes I do,” she said.

  “Very well.” Erai sighed and held out his hands, as if this were the hardest choice he ever had to make in the world. “If that is the price to pay for secrecy and safety, then we shall pay it. Guards kill them both. The princess is obviously under the Harlequin’s spell and has lost her soul.”

  The Red soldiers, part of the Sayi’s caste, all stood there not knowing what to do. They seemed in conflict on which nobles to obey. And perhaps Erai had claimed victory all too soon against the Red princess because from the shrine another group of Red soldiers, dressed different from the others, quickly made their way near us.