by Pedro Urvi
“Did I do well, Father?”
Siul smiled with sadness in his eyes. “Yes, my son, you did very well.”
“Then, why are you sad? Aren’t I a Farmer like you?”
“Yes, my son, but now you too are a slave, like me.”
At the time he did not understand the meaning of his father’s words. It was later on when he came to realize their importance fully. But the sadness in his father’s voice as he spoke those words was etched on his brain as though by fire, like the damned Ring. Ikai had been a Farmer a great part of his youth, until one day the Gods demanded a bigger Quota of Hunters in the Sixth County, and he was recruited by Sejof. Instead of a Farmer, he was now a Hunter. He looked at the Ring on his arm with the symbol of the Eagle and shook his head. The Gods chose the destiny of men; thus it was and thus it had been for more than a thousand years.
What Gedrel, that crazy old man, had said was nonsense. Ikai looked at the old man and came back to reality. It did not seem as if he would wake up again. The punishment had been too harsh. But he surprised him once more.
“Help me… to stand… please…” the old man asked him when he woke, as if he had been listening to him.
Ikai shook his head. This old man’s inner strength was amazing. He gave him a hand, and with a great effort Gedrel stood up.
The old man’s eyes fell on the scene of death around them.
“You fought well… very well…”
“I’m a Hunter, I’ve been trained for this.”
The old man looked at him intensely out of his good eye, as if trying to read his soul.
“There are Hunters and Hunters… what I’ve witnessed here today was something more than training and skill. You’ve killed four men with calculated coolness…” He looked at him again, more carefully, and nodded. “I’d say you were never even nervous… am I wrong?”
Ikai did not care for the old man’s scrutiny. “They attacked me and I defended myself. I was trained to fight and they weren’t. I’m alive and they’re dead. There’s nothing more to be said.”
“If you say so, young Hunter… but in the form… in the way of it I seemed to read something more… an extraordinary coolness and calculation…”
“If you’re suggesting that I’m a cold-blooded, calculating murderer, I can assure you you’re wrong.”
“Don’t get angry, my young savior, I didn’t mean to offend you. I think you’re a young man with a sharp calculating mind, to whom I owe my life and to whom I’m immensely grateful.”
“There’s no need to thank me. I’m a Hunter and they were Pariahs. It was my duty, my obligation.”
The old man nodded, but did not seem entirely convinced. “Take me… to my… nephews…” he pleaded.
Ikai helped him. He held him around the waist, passing the thin arm over his shoulder. The old man leaned on him and they made their way slowly on. Gedrel said his farewells to the fallen men with a strange prayer to various gods Ikai had never heard of.
“Will you bury them… so they won’t be eaten by the forest vermin?”
Ikai shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that. I must leave, I can’t waste any more time. I’ve been too long as it is.”
“I see… urgent business…”
Ikai nodded, expecting to be met with a look of reproach or disapproval, but there was only that same glint of intelligence.
“What about me, could you take me with you?”
Ikai looked around. “And your mounts?”
Gedrel made an odd grimace which Ikai interpreted as one of sarcasm. “We’re a humble family of merchants… we barely make ends meet… I have no mount.”
Ikai swore to himself. If he left him there the probability was that he would not survive. He was too far from the nearest village.
“I can’t ask more of you than you’ve done already…”
Ikai weighed up the alternatives. He knew the best and most rational option would be to leave the old man there, since he meant nothing to him and he had already helped him enough. Kyra was in danger, at the hands of the Enforcers of the Gods. He had to go on. But if he left the old man there he would die. He heaved a sigh. “Come on, you can ride with me,” he said reluctantly. “We’ll find help along the way somewhere.”
“Thank you, my son. Someday our paths will cross again and it’ll be the other way around. I’ll remember it.”
“Let’s hope that day never comes,” Ikai said with a half-smile.
It’s more likely that one day my eyes will see the sea than that this poor old man will save me, he thought. He spurred his horse and went on towards the capital, to the Dungeons of Oblivion.
8
Kyra opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling of the room. It was round and silver, like a great mirror, but she could not see her reflection in it. She was lying on the floor, also silver, and she could feel the cold on her skin through the white robe she was wearing. She did not know where she was. She tried to remember what had happened and a terrible headache hit her repeatedly like the hammer on the anvil at a smithy. She put her hands to her head but could not assuage the throbbing.
To her right she saw Yosane lying unconscious. Kyra got to her feet. She felt faint and dizzy, but refused to yield to weakness, she went across to her friend and fell on her knees beside her.
“Wake up, Yosane, wake up,” she called. Half closing her eyes, she tried to pierce the gloom which surrounded them, searching for any indication of danger. Everything was semi-darkness and silence. On the floor she could make out more bodies, motionless. Her friend did not stir and Kyra started to feel anxious. She grabbed her by the shoulders and began to shake her.
“Come on, wake up, don’t do this to me!”
Yosane groaned, mumbled incoherently and opened her eyes.
Kyra sighed loudly in relief. “Are you all right? For a moment I thought…”
“I think so, yes,” Yosane said, trying to focus. “My head… where… what is this place…? How did we get here?”
“The damned Eye-of-the-God! That’s how we got here,” Kyra grumbled. She was trying to remember with her eyes closed. “I seem to remember something… they brought us into his presence and… and… I don’t remember anything else. Damn!”
Yosane got to her feet with difficulty. “Look Kyra, we’re not alone!”
“Yes, I saw them when I was on my way to you.”
Lying on the floor were a dozen young women, some still unconscious, others trying to stand. They were all dressed alike: a long white robe with silver embroidery on neckline and sleeves, and a strange rune on the front.
Kyra looked at Yosane and then at herself. “They’ve dressed us all the same!”
Yes… it looks… we look…”
“Say it, come on, say it,” Kyra pressed her.
“We… we look like… maids to be sacrificed… in some sort of… ritual… to some God…”
“Exactly!” Kyra clenched her fists in anger. “Well, they’re not sacrificing me! I swear I won’t be sacrificed in the name of anybody! I’ll fight, I’ll tear their guts out!”
Yosane shook her head. Her shoulders drooped. “Calm down, please, Kyra,” she said heavily. “Let’s help them.”
The two girls helped the closest prisoners. Soon they all began to wake up and show signs of life. All had the same symptoms: dizziness, disorientation, strong headaches. Kyra counted twelve girls including herself, all of her own age, an odd coincidence. Surrounded by a growing murmur, a mixture of sobbing, unanswered questions and fear, Kyra noticed that there were three girls who had not managed to wake up. She went to them and discovered that the left side of their bodies was blackened. They were the three unfortunate girls from the punishment in the square, the ones who had been captured after fleeing the Summoning.
“Are they dead?” Yosane asked. There was fear in her eyes.
“I don’t think so,” Kyra said. She examined one of them. “Their breathing is very faint. I don’t understand much about this
, but I think they’re alive, barely. And that charcoal color doesn’t look good.”
“Perhaps I can help,” one of the girls said as she came up to them.
“If you think you can, go ahead,” Kyra said, motioning with her hand.
The young woman nodded. Kyra watched her as she went by; she was somewhat shorter than herself. Bulging blue eyes in a very pale face full of freckles smiled at her as she passed. Kyra returned the smiling gaze. The girl crouched beside the nearest of the three unfortunate girls. She pushed away the black, very curly hair which fell to the girl’s shoulders and put her ear to her chest, which barely showed any rise and fall of breathing.
While the girl examined the other two, Kyra turned her attention on the chamber they were in, in search of some possible way out.
“The floor’s made of silver…” Yosane said. She was looking at it in puzzlement.
“So’s the ceiling,” Kyra said, pointing upwards, “and the chamber’s round. Look at those strange runes carved on the floor so that they make a circle all around. They give out a soft golden light which shines up to the ceiling… odd… But I can’t see any way out, the walls are black as a starless night and they make a perfect circle. So how did we get in, then?”
Yosane looked closely at Kyra, following her gaze. “Are you looking for some way out?”
“Yes,” Kyra replied concentrating. “Survive and escape. Always remember that.”
“I don’t think we’ll be able to escape…” Yosane said fearfully, looking at the dark walls around them.
“Then we’ll concentrate on surviving until we can,” Kyra said with complete conviction, as if it were impossible that they should not succeed.
“I wish I had your conviction… and your courage…”
Kyra looked her in the eye and took her shoulders. “Survive and escape. That’s our life now, and that’s the law we have to follow. Don’t think about anything else. Nothing else matters. Otherwise you’ll die.”
“I don’t know if I can live by that rule, I’m not like you…”
“You’ll be able to, believe me. And if not, I’ll get behind you and push.”
Yosane smiled, a shy, grateful smile.
“Besides, Ikai will come for me. I’m absolutely sure of it. And he’s an excellent Hunter, he’ll find our trail no matter where they take us, no matter where they lock us up. He won’t stop till he finds me. So I’ll survive, there’s hope, we’ll escape, one way or another.”
Yosane nodded, a tiny spark of hope shining in her grey eyes.
“They’re alive, but if they don’t get attention I doubt they’ll last another day,” the young woman announced, looking at Kyra and Yosane.
“How do you know… and what’s your name?” Kyra asked.
“My name is Idana. And I know because I’m an Apothecary, like my father, my father’s father and his father before him. It’s my family’s trade. I’ve been learning it from my father ever since I was a child. That’s how we make our living, serving the Gods. I can recognize many types of wounds and illnesses, and treat them.”
Kyra’s eyes looked for the Ring on the young woman’s wrist. She saw the symbol of the Fox.
“Can you do anything for them?” Yosane asked.
“Without the ingredients to prepare an ointment to help fight and alleviate that dreadful burn, and without medicinal herbs against infection, I’m afraid not,” she replied, showing her empty hands.
Kyra scanned the room with a glance, looking for some kind of container, something that might hold an ointment or a potion. But the cold chamber was empty, there was nothing in it at all. Only themselves. The sobbing, mumbling and conversations were growing in intensity among the prisoners, and this was beginning to irritate Kyra. She could not think with all the noise, and she needed to get out of there. What would Ikai do in this situation? He always thinks of something, he has a cool, calculating mind. He’s very smart. What would he do? What? Think!” The noise around her became unbearable.
“Shut up! By all the damned Gods, shut up!” she shouted. The shout came out stronger than she had intended. Instantly, they all fell silent. There was not a sound. They barely allowed themselves to breathe. They looked at Kyra in fear and confusion. Yosane realized what was happening and intervened.
“Easy, girls, nothing’s wrong. Let’s be quiet for a while… please… Try to calm down and lower your voices… please,” she pleaded, making soothing gestures with her hands.
But there was one girl who did not seem scared. She was tending to another, a very strong girl who had not yet recovered. She fixed her gaze on Kyra as if her eyes were two arrows of pure rage. Kyra noticed this, but brushed it aside and ignored her. We must find a way out, perhaps there’s a hidden spring. Something that opens a door in those walls, she thought, and began to walk towards the closest wall. When she reached the circle formed by the unusual golden runes carved on the floor, she hesitated. Survive and Escape, she breathed to herself.
She took a step across the circle. A golden flash leapt from floor to ceiling. Something hit Kyra forcefully. She fell backwards.
“Kyra!” Yosane cried, and ran to help her.
Kyra shook her head and stared at the barrier which rose from floor to ceiling, forming a wide circle, surrounding them all.
“Are you all right?” Yosane asked anxiously.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine… don’t worry. That thing came out from the circle on the floor, and it hit me when I tried to cross it.”
Idana came up to them and studied the phenomenon for a moment. “It seems to be a barrier. It looks translucent, although most likely it’s solid. It reminds me of... it’s like the Boundary. Very curious. I believe it’s there to stop us from crossing it…”
Kyra got to her feet. “Nothing’s going to stop me escaping,” she said with a frown. There was stubbornness in her voice. She went back to the barrier.
“Kyra, no!” Yosane cried. She reached out her arm to try and stop her. But she did not succeed. A tremendous shock ran through Kyra’s body when she tried to cross the barrier. She was thrown backwards as if she had been hit by lightning in a strong summer storm. Darkness swallowed her.
The world of dreams abducted her and took her on shadowy wings to an event which was distant but etched deeply in her memory. A face appeared before her amid the confused mist of dreams. She could not make it out, although it was vaguely familiar. She thought of her brother Ikai, but no, it was not him, though there was a likeness. It was Malte. When she recognized her childhood friend, a feeling of happiness enveloped her.
“Wake up, sleepyhead, they’re waiting for us in the village,” he said, looking in through the small window of Kyra’s room and showing his ivory teeth in that charming smile of his. It was nighttime and the stars were shining behind the boy’s curly, copper-colored hair.
“Cover your eyes while I change,” Kyra said, looking at his handsome black eyes.
“Why, is there anything to see?” Malte said, joking.
Kyra poked her tongue at him and swore to herself. Malte laughed and looked at the moon.
“Shhh, you’ll wake my mother!”
“All right, and where’s Ikai?”
“He left a few days ago, he’s on a Hunt…”
“I see… hurry up, I don’t want to be seen here.”
“Who’s going to see you? It’s nighttime and yours is the darkest, brownest skin of anyone I know. You certainly don’t look as though you’re from these parts…”
“Seeing that nobody’s been able to cross the Boundary in a thousand years, I’d say your theory is quite wrong,” he whispered.
Kyra finished dressing. “Nobody that we know of…” Kyra corrected him.
Malte nodded. “I won’t argue with you. Since you turned sixteen a week ago, your wisdom has gone through the roof.”
“You can tease all you like, but being eighteen doesn’t make you any smarter, just older.”
Malte laughed again and had to cover his m
outh with his hands.
“If you wake up Solma we’ll have a problem!”
He nodded vigorously and said no more.
The two friends went out in haste to the village. Both wore dark robes and black cloaks, with hoods to hide their faces, like two fugitives in the night. Kyra had known Malte since they were little. He was the son of the poultry man and his father’s farm was close by, after the little brook and the bare hill. There had never been anything romantic between them, although they spent all the free time they had together. Not that Malte was not attractive; Kyra knew he was, and lots of the village girls chased after him. The reason was something very different: they had much more important things to think about than lovers’ games. They gambled with their lives.
When they reached the edge of the village, they made sure they were not being followed and turned east, to the meeting-point. That night the meeting would take place in Ulbes’ barn on the outskirts, near the forest. Each meeting took place in a different location, once every four weeks. Absolute precaution was necessary; Proxy Ambuk’s Guards were on the watch, the Hunters were always on patrol and besides, the most terrible of all, the Enforcers of the Gods, would kill all without a word if they found them. Meetings were forbidden, they went against the law.
When they arrived they waited a moment, hidden among the dry grass, before approaching the barn. Malte went first to check there was no danger, and after a moment beckoned her to follow. Milton the miller was on watch duty. They greeted him and went inside. A dozen people were waiting around a candle inside a pot. They were all dressed in the same way: their heads and faces covered with dark hoods, in some cases even scarves, to avoid recognition. The dim light from the candle barely illuminated the unbroken darkness of the barn.
The meeting began. As usual, they brought each other up to date with the latest news about the Enforcers, the Proxy and the Guard. Tolsen the merchant, who had just come back from the capital, told them about Regent Sesmok and the fallacies of the High Priest Torkem. As in most of those secret meetings, they spoke vehemently against the slavery of the people, the hunger the Enforcers forced them to suffer in order to keep them subservient. They railed against the corruption and tyranny of the Regent, the High Priest and the Proxies, who did not serve the people but the Eyes-of-the-Gods, and whose sole objective was to keep the population oppressed while they lived in luxury.
