by Pedro Urvi
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, activated the disc and searched for his own aura. It had once taken him an eternity to find it, but little by little he had improved so that now he could find it almost at once. When he succeeded, he fixed it in his mind. He focused. He needed to be very careful. Up, gently, to the parapet, he told the disc. A white mist enveloped him and his body began to rise, leaving the ground, very slowly, parallel to the wall. He rose and rose, gently. There was an emptiness in his stomach, but he must not lose his concentration. If he did so the disc would not respond, and he would crash to the ground and break his skull.
He reached the battlements. Carefully he opened his eyes and stepped unsteadily onto the parapet. He gasped with relief at finding himself on the wall and seeing the height he had climbed. As he had expected, there were no Guards. He decided to find out what was going on. Stealthily, he went into the tower and down the winding stone stairs until he reached a room whose door was ajar. He put his head in and withdrew it immediately. Nothing. Empty. Members of the Guard should have been stationed there, even if they were sleeping, but there was no one there. He went through the rest of the tower and found it deserted, and what was stranger still, there were signs that nobody had set foot in it in a long time.
He went out on the battlements, crouched down and scanned the city at his feet. There were barely a handful of torches burning to light up the main streets. The houses were all dark, just like the squares, fountains and back streets. Looking at the buildings, he noticed that they were well made, with stone walls, sloping roofs, with everything very well finished. Without a doubt they were the best and more advanced buildings he had ever seen. The people of that boundary were skilled constructors. Looking at the city from above, he realized that it had been built in six symmetrical areas. The first four were completely dark, as if deserted. The other two, to the north, showed some light. He decided to go and investigate.
He walked at a crouch along the wall, close to the battlements, toward the northern part. He passed two more towers and found them empty in turn. He realized that the Dark Spirit had left him. Now they would be able to see him, if there was anybody to do so. He decided to take no risks, and summoned the Dark Spirit to cover him again. He did not know how long it would stay with him, any more than he could predict how long any of the things he managed to do with the Power would last. He was clearly aware that someone as powerful as Adamis would be able to create strong spirits which remained for longer. He also had the feeling that as he practiced more, not only was he managing to make the Power respond sooner and better, but it was responding with more powerful creations and skills, so that the spirit existed for longer. He had no idea what its limit might be, but it was inspiring him to want to try things out and learn. The whole world of the Power of the Golden and its mastery fascinated him as much as it frustrated him. It was something that went beyond logic, and he was someone guided by logic and common sense. But over time, he was sure he would find the logic behind it all.
He walked the length of the wall until he reached the more brightly-lit part. Here he lay flat on the ground behind the parapet and watched. He did not see any Guards, but he did see something which at last made sense: Enforcers. Several Executors were standing guard in front of a small palace, while a little to the east another, bigger, group of Executors were watching a great square building. It looked like a military barracks. An Eye-of-the-Gods came out of the palace, went to another building, escorted by six Executors, and disappeared inside. What was going on here? Where was the Guard? And the Proxies? Inside that building? Since there were no answers, and trying to break into those guarded buildings without more information seemed too risky, he decided to wait till daybreak and see whether he could find out anything more. He hid himself in the tower behind the two buildings and waited for dawn.
What he discovered at sunrise left him as puzzled as he had been in the village. The city woke up, and its dwellers began to go about their daily chores. This could perfectly well have been any city of any boundary, with one exception: all the inhabitants of this city were either old people or children. There was not a single young person. Nor could he spot any Guard or Proxy. Only Enforcers, and old people looking after children. He was so perplexed he wanted to go down and ask, but bearing in mind the old woman’s reaction he decided against it.
Suddenly he heard the snort of a horse. Crossing the northern gate came Enforcers in a dozen heavy carts pulled by strong horses. He shifted position so as to get a better view. The carts stopped in front of the square building, then Executors alighted and waited for an Eye to come out of the palace. He gave some orders which Ikai could not hear, and the Executors went into the building. A few moments later he heard cries and moans. He turned all his attention on and to his surprise found out part of the mystery of what was going on. The Executors were dragging out young people and pushing them into the heavy carts. But they were not young peasants: no, they were soldiers of the Guard!
He rubbed his eyes, completely at a loss. As he tried to puzzle it out, the Executors dragged the soldiers out by force and loaded them into the carts. He had not been mistaken, the building was a military barracks, that of the Guard. What he could never have imagined was that the Enforcers would have the Guard imprisoned in their own barracks. But why? The political structure is the same in all the boundaries. The Gods need the Guard. The Enforcers are not enough to control the whole population. And thinking about it, he realized. It was true in the case of a large population, but here there was no such thing. He had no idea why, or where that population was, but if there were only old people and children, then there was no need for the Guard.
He had an ominous feeling about this, and hoped with all his heart that he was wrong. One final cart arrived, and two Eyes stepped down from it. They conferred with the Eye in command and arrived at some sort of decision. Several Executors went into the building and with much pushing and shoving brought out half a dozen Proxies. Ikai recognized them at once by their characteristic blue and white robes. They were followed by one last man, whose hands and feet were chained. He was tall and wore a brown tunic, his hair was brown and he had an unkempt beard. He stopped before getting on the cart and looked up at the sun. Ikai saw a green glint in his eyes and recognized him.
It was Maruk! He was so stunned that he shifted involuntarily and his knee dislodged a stone, which rattled loudly on to a nearby roof. He crawled back along the battlements. One of the Executors heard the stone fall and looked up at where he was. seeing a shadow slowly disappearing. He watched it for a moment, then lost interest. Ikai remained as still as a statue to avoid attracting any more attention until he heard the convoy begin to move. I’ve got to follow them and find out where they’re taking him!
Carefully, he withdrew and climbed down the outer wall, using the Power as he had on his way in. Once he was below he ran to the corner, keeping close to the wall as he went, and saw the group of carts leaving the city. Half a dozen carts in a row. He counted three dozen Executors and two Eyes-of-the-Gods. Too many to attempt a rescue. But he was not discouraged. Time to chase Enforcers.
For ten days Ikai followed the caravan, always keeping hidden and at a safe distance so that the Enforcers would not realize they were being followed. He used all his knowledge as an old Hunter to stay hidden from his prey. The carts were slow and their tracks unmistakable, so it was not difficult to keep a safe distance. The Enforcers barely rested more than was absolutely necessary so as not to kill the horses and to give water to the prisoners. He was used to marching for days on end, so that it was easy to keep up with the pace of the caravan. He was worried about how little food the prisoners were being given. They won’t be able to put up with a long trip with nothing but water and a little bread and meat. He had no idea where they were heading, but he feared that by the time they got there Maruk would already be dead.
On the eleventh day, with night falling, they left the carts on the road and made camp beside a stream.
To his surprise they lit several campfires; it looked as though they were going to spend the night there. This gave him a chance to gather some information. It was dangerous and rather risky, but he could seize the opportunity to investigate. He pondered the situation for a long while, and in the end he decided to act. It went against what his rational mind dictated, but sometimes you have to take risks in order to win. For a moment he thought it was Kyra speaking and not himself: I guess we all change with experience. My little sister has turned more cautious, and me rather less. He smiled at the thought.
He hid the satchel of food, along with bow, quiver and sword, under a great oak. Very carefully, keeping to the shadows at all times and hiding from the moon, he approached the Enforcers’ camp. He had to find out Maruk’s state and gather some information as to what was happening. From a prudent distance, well-hidden, he watched the camp. He saw his friend tied to a fir tree. His eyes were closed and his head bowed, as if he were sleeping. The Proxies had been tied to a couple of thick oaks. The remaining prisoners had been taken to the stream to drink and clean up. He crawled through the underbrush, his senses on the alert, toward the camp. In one hand he carried a knife, in the other the disc. He successfully avoided two Executors stationed on the outskirts of the camp, then suddenly heard a noise and became rigid as a rock, his face pressed against the ground. Two Executors guarding the perimeter were approaching. He held his breath and tightened his grip on both knife and disc. They passed a couple of paces by him without seeing him.
He breathed out and swallowed hard. His mouth was dry, his heart beating like a drum. Very slowly he crawled to the tree Maruk was tied to. The light of one of the fires lit him up. Ikai glanced at him for a moment and hid behind the tree again. As he had feared, Maruk did not look good. His face and neck were covered with bruises from the blows he had received and his breathing was very shallow. He was thin and filthy.
“Maruk,” he whispered in his ear.
But he did not open his eyes.
“It’s me, Ikai.”
Maruk stirred as if he were in the middle of a nightmare. This encouraged Ikai, who for a moment had feared he might be dead.
He shook his arm. “Maruk, wake up, it’s me, Ikai.”
Maruk opened his eyes and stared vacantly at the fire.
“Are you all right? I’m behind you.”
“No! not anymore!” Maruk cried all of a sudden. In the middle of the quiet night the cry rang out like thunder.
“Don’t yell, it’s me, Ikai!”
“No! Leave me!” Maruk shouted, as though in a nightmare.
Ikai put his hand on his mouth, but it was already too late. From the other side of the camp came two Executors. He had to let go of Maruk, who began to yell again. The Executors sounded the alarm, and three more appeared from the east. He weighed up his chances. Fighting five Executors would have been unthinkable lunacy not long before. But now, with the aid of the disc, it was something he might be able to pull off. There came the shrieking voice of an Eye from further south. He was ordering more Executors to come up to the camp. This changed things. He could not fight off all of them, that he knew. He made the most rational decision: flee!
He ran off through the underbrush. An Executor’s spear brushed past his head. He leapt over a trunk and another spear thudded into it. With his heart in his mouth he ran, dodging trees, rocks and roots, until he came out into an area of open land. When he glanced behind he saw he was being chased. He ran as fast as he could to cross the clearing and reach the forest. He might be able to lose them there among the vegetation.
He was forced to flee all night, with barely a rest, trying to leave his pursuers behind. For a moment he thought he had succeeded, then he heard their heavy footsteps on his trail and was forced to go on.
It was dawn when he came out of the forest and found himself on the main road. His lungs were burning and his legs sore from the effort. He had to stop and rest. He had been doing so at intervals, trying to leave the Executors behind. He had gained something of an advantage, but he knew they would soon be on top of him. They were like hunting hounds and never seemed to tire. Staying on the road was not an option, they would see him and he would be unable to shake them off. The best thing to do was to go back into the woods. He took three deep breaths, then breathed slowly out. Now somewhat recovered, he ran on like lightning. At the edge of the path he jumped over a trunk with his eyes on the forest at the point he would enter it by, finally losing his pursuers in the process. He stepped on the grass and his right foot sank into a hole covered by dead leaves. He stumbled, lost his balance and fell on his face. He tried to get back on his feet at once, but felt a sharp pain in his ankle. He put his hands on the sprain and stayed there lying on the ground, grunting with pain.
He got to his feet as best he could and tried to lean on his foot. A terrible pain shot up his leg and burst in his mind. It’s a pretty bad sprain! He tried to hobble off to get further away, but had to stop because the pain was too intense. I have to bind that ankle and secure it so that at least I can limp. He took off his shirt and tore it into strips, then bent over, took off his boot and started to bind his ankle tight, enduring the pain. Once it was tightly bound he put his boot back on. It hurt terribly, but at least now he could walk to some extent.
Unfortunately it was too late. A dozen Executors were watching him from the other side of the road. There are times in life when luck isn’t on our side, he thought resignedly. I’ll have to fight. May Oxatsi take pity on this, her son. He stood straight with the knife in his right hand and the disc in his left, flexed his knee and tried not to put his weight on his injured foot. Calm and concentration, he told himself.
Three of the Executors raised their spears. Ikai acted at once, using the disc to raise a protective sphere. The three spears hit this with tremendous force, weakening it, but they did not manage to pierce it. At the same time he felt the blow in his body. Confused, the Executors hesitated. He took advantage of this and used the Power of the disc. He summoned a Spirit of Agony, a translucent gray creation in a long tattered robe, its body lacking any flesh. It looked like something out of a nightmare. It floated beside him, staring at him with an unhinged expression of horror that was the very picture of unfathomable agony itself. Ikai pointed at the three Executors with his knife and gave the order: Attack! The spirit spread its arms, gave a cavernous moan, and shot out to fall on the Executors. They defended themselves with their knives, but the spirit’s embrace filled them with unbearable agony. They fell to the ground, writhing as they tried to shake it off. The other Executors hesitated, unable to understand how a man could do something that was only within the power of the Gods.
Taking advantage of their confusion, he used the Power of the disc to create a Dark Spirit. The disc gave a flash. A black thread issued from it and became a spirit, black as a starless night. But this time, instead of ordering it to cover him, he gave it the order to attack. The spirit hurled itself at the Executors. Covering them with its blackness, it consumed their lives.
The Executors fought back. Ikai was only capable of creating a few different kinds of spirits which Adamis had taught him to summon. He knew that it was possible to create a wider, far more powerful variety. So far his own were weak, as he had still not mastered the Power sufficiently to create anything stronger. Since they existed in this world the spirits, although translucent, were partially vulnerable to physical weapons. The Executors could wound them and end their existence. The battle between Spirits and Executors was brutal and ruthless. Ikai joined his creations, and between the three of them they finished off all the Executors. The last of these died in the act of destroying the last spirit. He was left alone, with a dozen dead bodies around him.
He gasped in relief. He was safe. He heard the galloping of a horse in the distance, but only saw the empty road disappearing beyond a bend. He felt a blow in his back followed by a shaking. What? An Executor’s spear had struck the protective sphere. He turned and saw a dozen m
ore Executors coming out of the forest at a run. Oh no! He concentrated and summoned a new Spirit of Agony, but had no time for anything else. The Executors fell on him.
He took the first blows from the Executors’ spear and knife, which the protective sphere stopped. But with every blow the sphere weakened a little, and he felt a painful shaking that spread through his whole body. He sent more Power to strengthen the sphere. Those first attacks soon became a tremendous rainfall of blows, whose full force he felt in his flesh. He tried to use the disc again, but the pain and the shaking would not let him concentrate. I’m in serious trouble. I have to find a way of defending myself, or else I won’t make it out of here alive. The blows continued with savage force, with the Executors attacking like predatory beasts whose prey was on the brink of collapse. The Spirit of Agony finished off three Executors before it was destroyed.
A spear managed to pierce the protective sphere and went straight to his heart. In a reflex movement he deflected the sharp point with his knife. He had escaped by a hair’s-breadth, but now the sphere was cracked and about to fall. The next spear went through it at the level of his head. He saw it nearing his face. Without having time to react, he bent his knees and the spear brushed past his head. As he crouched he felt a stab of pain in his ankle. He could not use the disc to protect himself. The Executors went on hitting the sphere with their spears and half-moon-shaped knives. They could see it was about to give way, and hammered it with all their might.
He tried to use the disc one last time before his defense was destroyed. Crouching, under the rain of blows, he did his best to focus. He heard the neighing of a horse behind him, but did not let it disturb his concentration. He managed to use the Power and create a Dark Spirit. Yes! Between the two they could defeat the remaining Executors. Attack them! he ordered it. But before it could attack, the Executors were hurled into the air, crashing on to the ground and dying on impact. Ikai, mouth open in surprise, spun round.
