by Pedro Urvi
There was a loud blast of thunder, then the discharges shook the Eyes. With shrill moans, the ones which had been hit by the energy fell dead from their carriages. But she was unable to redirect all the attacks. A dozen of them reached her and destroyed the sphere. She and her horse fell, struck by the last of the discharges. Her horse died amid terrified neighing. She lay convulsing on the ground in inhuman pain. She grasped the disc at her breast and put it to the ground. The energy flowed out of her through the disc, and evaporated as it touched the ground.
She was badly wounded, unable to move. Her whole body was in immense pain. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a dozen carriages advancing. I didn’t manage to finish them all. She tried to defend herself, but she had another seizure and Adamis’s disc fell out of her hand. The carriages surrounded her. She was about to die. She looked for Lone Wolf, but he was too far away, fighting against the Executors. She tried to rise but was unable. She lay there helpless on the ground. Her mouth tasted of earth and blood.
“Your time has come, bitch,” came the shrieking voice of one of the Eyes.
A war cry thundered suddenly. Kyra raised her head from the ground and saw Silver Eagle and thirty warriors charging against the Eyes-of-the-Gods. She could not believe her eyes. They were all aged warriors, charging in a desperate attempt to save her.
“No, Silver Eagle!”
The Eyes turned and attacked. There was a crash, shouting and more discharges. Then came silence. She realized that a number of bodies were falling on top of her. Pain punished her again, and she lost consciousness.
“Kyra! Kyra! Come back!”
Kyra opened one eye. She felt intense pain. Her whole body was in agony. She glimpsed Lone Wolf, who was wrapping her in a blanket.
“Lone Wolf…”
“You finally return from the world of spirits.”
“What..? What… happened?”
Swift Deer came into her line of vision. “We won.”
“How?”
“The Eyes. Once the Executors were dead they didn’t know what to do and we were able to kill them a few at a time. Our steeds are swifter and more agile than their carriages.”
She remembered what had happened. “The Eyes…Silver Eagle!”
She looked at Lone Wolf, and he lowered his gaze. “I’ll take you to him.”
He gathered Kyra in his arms and carried her to where the Great Chief was lying on the ground, all his dead warriors around him. But he was still breathing. Lone Wolf placed her on the ground beside the Great Chief.
“Silver Eagle, why did you do it?”
“For you… for my people.”
Looking at his wounds, she knew there was nothing they could do. The Great Chief she loved as a father was dying.
“They will all remember your sacrifice, what you did for the People of the Steppes,” she said.
“Let them tell my story… to the children… at night around the fires…”
“It shall be done,” Lone Wolf said solemnly.
Kyra stroked the blood-smeared forehead. “They’ll all know it was the Great Chief Silver Eagle who united all the tribes against the oppressors. They’ll all tell the story that Silver Eagle saved their people at the last moment with a heroic charge. They’ll all remember that they gained their freedom because a great man fought all his life to unite the tribes and lead them to freedom, sacrificing everything in the process. They’ll know, you have my word.”
“And mine,” said Lone Wolf.
“Lone Wolf…”
“Yes Great Chief.”
“When I’m gone… you’ll guide our tribe.”
Lone Wolf shook his head. “I’m just a warrior.”
“At my death… you’ll be Great Chief.”
Lone Wolf sighed, bent his head and accepted.
“The spirits are coming for me… I see a great eagle…”
“Farewell, Great Chief,” Kyra said, and kissed the old man’s cheek lovingly.
Silver Eagle spread his arms wide, as if receiving the spirit that was coming for him, and died.
Kyra rose slowly to her knees, her eyes filled with tears, and said goodbye to that great man. The she rose and looked toward the city.
“Lone Wolf, gather the warriors together. You’re going to take the city.”
“The Regent?”
“No, forget about him. He’s finished.”
“And then?”
“You’re going to bring down that accursed monolith.”
Lone Wolf stared at her in puzzlement, his brow furrowed.
“Do you want to bring this to an end? Do you want to be free?”
The warrior nodded, his eyes shining.
“Then do as I say. Pull down that misbegotten artifact.”
“Whatever you order, one who walks two worlds.”
An hour later, the surviving warriors entered the city at full gallop and headed to the great square where the monolith rose to the sky. The palace was fortified, and inside it the high command of the Guard, together with those loyal to the Regent, had barricaded themselves. But as Kyra had ordered, the warriors ignored them.
In front of the monolith, on his piebald horse, Lone Wolf gave the order.
“We have to bring it down! Attach ropes to your horses and pull until it falls!”
The warriors went through the city, house by house, in search of ropes. When they had enough, they tied them to the arcane artifact of the Gods. They mounted their horses and pulled together. For an instant nothing happened, with only the snorting of the steeds audible in their effort. They tugged again, and then there came a strange crack. They heaved for a third time, and the monolith broke at the base and toppled heavily. When it hit the ground it shattered into a thousand crystalline pieces.
The warriors were howling and shouting at the sky with cries of joy and victory. Thousands of throats expressed their happiness. The People of the Steppes had achieved their longed-for freedom.
Swift Deer carried Kyra to the square. She was so badly hurt they had to use one of the carriages which had belonged to the Executors.
“What do we do now?” Lone Wolf asked.
“Now you must send four of your fastest riders in the four directions to check whether the whole Boundary fell when the monolith was destroyed.”
The two warriors exchanged a glance of surprise.
“You mean there’s no barrier?” Swift Deer said. “That we’re free?”
She smiled broadly. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“I… I can’t believe it… It’s a dream.”
“Now your people will be able to ride across the steppes, free as the wind. No more Counties, no more Boundary, only endless prairies to ride across.”
“My spirit cannot contain itself for joy,” Swift Deer said, with tears in her eyes.
“And the Regent?” Lone Wolf asked sternly. “And the Enforcers?”
“The Enforcers are harmless now. Without the monolith to govern them they’ll just wander aimlessly like brainless idiots. Capture them and lock them up, all of them. Don’t kill them. It’s not worth shedding more blood. As for the Regent and his followers … lay siege to the palace. Sooner or later they’ll give themselves up. When they do so, execute the Regent, pardon the rest.”
“But… that’s not our law… their throats must all be cut,” Lone Wolf said.
“There have been too many deaths. Pardon them. Believe me, there’s nothing I’d like better than to take the knife to all of them and avenge the deaths of Silver Eagle and Crazy Cougar and all the other braves who died in the battle. There’s a rage in my stomach that wants to reach out for revenge. I can see the same rage in your eyes. I’m finding it fiendishly hard to control it right now because I’d love to let it out and spill a lot more blood. But I believe it would be a mistake. Yes. A mistake.”
“As you wish, one who walks two worlds. We’ll do as you say.”
Kyra sighed and breathed out heavily. Her rage began to fade, and a conta
ined joy at having done what she had come to do took its place. She felt good, very good. The cries and howls of the warriors as they celebrated the victory were now deafening, but they reached her as from a great distance. She felt at peace. Proud of having succeeded, after three long years. I did it! I liberated the Boundary of the People of the Steppes, just as I was entrusted to do. It’s been a long hard business, something that’s marked me forever, something that’s changed me.
“And what will you do now?” Swift Deer asked her.
Kyra came back from her thoughts. “Now I have to go and help a friend.”
“You’re leaving us?” Lone Wolf asked uneasily.
“Yes. I received a message from one of my own people. He’s in another Boundary and needs help. I’m going to answer his call.”
Lone Wolf took a step forward. “I’ll go with you,” he said at once.
Kyra smiled. The warrior’s gesture touched her soul. Her eyes moistened.
“No, Lone Wolf. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, but you can’t come with me.”
“My mission is to protect you.”
“Not any longer, my friend. Now you have to be a leader. You aren’t a warrior any longer. Now you’re a Chief. You have to guide and protect your tribe.”
Lone Wolf sighed and nodded.
“But I’ll come back,” she assured them.
“We’ll be waiting for you.” Swift Deer said.
“When I return I’m going to ask you for something. It’ll be rather hard, so I need you all to prepare yourselves for it.”
“Whatever it is, we owe it to you,” Swift Deer said.
“I’m going to ask you to join me against the Gods.”
The two warriors stared at her and were silent for a moment, taking in the seriousness and sacrifice this implied.
“We’ll follow you, one who walks two worlds,” Swift Deer said at last.
“All the men united,” said Kyra.
“We’ll defeat the Gods,” Lone Wolf said.
And in this way the fate of the People of the Steppes was sealed.
Chapter 9
Albana was waiting for Ilia, hiding behind the massive root of one of the gigantic trees. Night was beginning to fall. They had all returned by now from another hard day’s work in the endless forests and had gone up to rest in the villages in the crowns of those majestic, millennially-ancient beings.
She breathed deeply and spent a moment enjoying the vivid scent of the forest. That night’s mission was secret, and she had gone deep into the forest, far from the village, to a small area beside a lake of calm waters.
She could barely see the lights of the aerial village in the distance. It always thrilled her to watch the thousands of lights that lit up at twilight in the inhabited crowns of the trees. She suddenly realized this was not like her, it was a moment of sentimentality, and if there was anything she was not, it was someone who indulged in sentiment. I’m turning soft, she told herself reproachfully, and shook her head. She inhaled the wild scent of the forest again, a mixture of damp earth and fresh grass, and smiled wryly.
Perhaps it was the time they had been apart, the three years of absence which had taken her away from Ikai. Perhaps it was living for so long among these people who were savages and yet at the same time honest and capable of deep friendship, even love, if one gained their respect. Which, by the way, was not at all easy. In fact Albana was beginning to feel that her love for Ikai had changed her. She was not as insolent as before, nor did she enjoy making fun of others so much, although she had to admit she still enjoyed it a little. Her heart had softened or mellowed perhaps, and she was not entirely happy about this. She was still herself, lethal, harsh and cynical in her way of thinking. But now, sometimes, she felt a little sentimental.
She remembered the long journey from the Senoca Boundary to the New Shelter after the rebellion. Once again Ikai had shown her how intelligent and determined he was. He had taken all the responsibility on to his own shoulders and been willing to guide their people in a massive exodus to find somewhere they could rebuild and start anew. The journey had taken them many months of hardship, during which they were buffeted by exhaustion, sickness and death. But Ikai had never faltered, never yielded. Not even in the most desperate moments, not even when everything seemed to be lost, not even when his own people doubted him and came close to turning their backs on him. She recalled how after heading southwest for several months, when they reached the land of the countless lakes the Senoca had decided not to follow their leader any further. They wanted to stay there, to create the new colony in that land of immense lakes. But Ikai never gave up, never showed weakness, not even in those moments of crisis. He managed to convince them to keep going, a little further, toward the south. And they arrived at the place where he had promised to bring his people: beside Mother Sea, far from the Gods, where they would never be found. He had kept his promise. And because of that, Albana could not have loved him more.
“Where are you, my love?” she whispered uneasily.
The night breeze brushed her face and bore some of her fears away with it.
She sighed deeply. “Take care of yourself. We need you. I need you.”
He’ll be safe, I’m sure of it. He promised to come back to me alive, and he always keeps his promises. The thought comforted her. Ikai would return to her arms. He had sacrificed much for his people; such is a leader’s burden. A burden and a sacrifice that had not ended when they founded their New Shelter. For a moment she had thought that everything would be better once they were settled in their new home. And so it was, in part, but not for them, not as far as enjoying their love was concerned. During the next few months Ikai had never had a moment’s respite. The building of the New Shelter, with all the endless tasks to be organized, carried out and supervised, swallowed up her beloved, and her too. Days of exhausting work from dawn till sunset, when they collapsed in exhaustion. They barely had a moment to themselves during those hard days, and only at night could they find a short breathing-space to enjoy each other’s company, and love each other. Who would’ve told me that someday I’d long for those weary days of endless effort? Exhausting days, but happy ones.
A noise behind her startled her. At once she unsheathed her two daggers and crouched down to conceal herself under the root. She could make out two figures climbing down one of the nearby trees. They used branches and lianas with the skill of a monkey, but she knew they were human. She used her Power to fade into the shadows.
The two figures reached the spot where she had been a moment before.
“Where is she?” a man’s voice whispered.
“She ought to be here,” said the other voice, a woman’s.
Albana came out of the shadows behind them and with a swift movement drew both daggers under their chins.
“You move and I slit your throats.”
“Wait! Albana, it’s me, Pilap!”
“Turn round, very slowly,” she said. She moved the daggers away from their necks, but kept them raised and threatening.
The two youngsters turned, and she saw they really were Pilap and Lial.
She frowned. “What on earth are you doing here? I might’ve killed you.” She lowered her weapons.
“Ilia told us to reconnoiter the area and warn her if there was any danger,” Pilap said.
“All clear, no spies,” Lial added, indicating the trees around them.
“Good,” Albana said with a smile. “An extra pair of eyes is always useful, even if they’re always in the treetops.”
“You don’t often see anyone on the ground here,” said Pilap.
“Yeah, I tend to forget you’re like monkeys. Especially you, ugly,”
Pilap smiled and flexed his arms.
“We’re like birds, not monkeys,” Lial protested.
“Well, that’s a matter of opinion,” Albana said with a sardonic smile.
Lial crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.
Albana looked aro
und her. “And where’s Ilia? I can’t see her.”
“Well, you won’t if you keep looking at the ground,” Lial said.
Albana squinted and looked up into the treetops. There was almost no light left and she could not make out much, but she could not see her. She turned to Pilap.
“Where’s your sister?”
He pointed upwards. Albana did not understand what he meant, but instinctively followed the direction of his pointing finger. And if she had thought she had seen it all ‒ Gods, Enforcers, monsters, picturesque races ‒ what she saw next unsettled her completely.
Descending from the heavens was a truly gigantic bird. It glided in great circles as it came closer to them. It looked like a colossal eagle, except that it was not. Riding on its huge white-feathered neck was a human being, guiding its flight. Albana rubbed her eyes in disbelief. It can’t be. This isn’t real. The enormous bird was as formidable as the millennial trees of those forests. Comparing the size of the bird with that of the trees, it almost made sense, although her mind refused to accept it. She rubbed her eyes again. The bird glided down to land gently before them. The rider was Ilia.
“Do you like my steed?” she asked Albana casually, as though flying on the back of some kind of monstrous eagle were the most natural thing in the world.
“I… love it,” Albana replied. She was still unable to believe what she was seeing.
The bird looked at her with its large eyes, full of intelligence. She guessed that judging by the size of its orange beak and its enormous head and neck, it might very well be able to tear someone to pieces with no trouble at all. Its body was as large as five men together, its claws huge and strong. Suddenly it flapped its wings and raised a draught of wind that made her hair flutter, and she had to cover her eyes with her forearm.
