The Simoqin Prophecies

by Samit Basu

  The something he had caught was a vaman’s beard.

  In the north they have a saying. The saying goes ‘Never ever touch a vaman’s beard.’

  Some people never learn.

  The vaman went berserk. His friends pulled out daggers and charged at the other snow-trolls, who picked them up and threw them across the room. On to a table of vroomers.

  All hell broke loose.

  Violence spread fast in the Fragrant Underbelly. There were pashans everywhere, wrestling, kicking, clubbing innocent bystanders. You could tell the snow-trolls apart because they generally had a screaming vaman attached to the backs of their heads. The vroomers, always happy to oblige anyone looking for a fight, had started to mix it up. The men named Abhishek disappeared under a table as screaming vroomers began to run through the bar. Houstarr, the World’s Worst Lover, stopped telling a woman about his skin diseases and dived for cover. Tables, glasses and mugs flew everywhere. The members of Teetotalers Anonymous went on drinking. There was very little else they cared about.

  Steel-Bunz, who had been sleeping quietly under the table, woke up happy. He loved fights. He whizzed off in a white blur and soon people all over the Underbelly were holding their ankles and yelling in pain. A vroomer stepped on Steel-Bunz’s tail and regretted it immediately, as the deadly bunny launched a vicious attack on his kurta.

  ‘Level five,’ said Spikes. He knew all about the different kinds of brawls in the Underbelly. He ended a lot of them. It wouldn’t be level six until Spikes unsheathed his claws.

  ‘I think we should get Asvin out of here,’ said Maya, watching Yarni hit a snow-troll. With another.

  ‘Upstairs, do you think? It’ll be difficult carrying him,’ said Kirin, looking at Triog, all six hands holding clubs, roaring as he bludgeoned one and all.

  ‘I’ll manage,’ said Spikes, quietly.

  ‘I wasn’t thinking about you, Spikes. We don’t want him to catch a stray dagger.’

  ‘I’ll wake him up, I’m sure he can walk,’ said Maya hopefully.

  A vroomer came soaring through the air and crashed on to their table. Asvin didn’t even mumble in his sleep.

  Spikes got up. The claws came out. Level six.

  ‘That might be a little difficult,’ said Kirin. Asvin dropped peacefully on to the floor as the table cracked. He started to snore.

  ‘Look, why don’t you go and fight someone?’ said Maya crossly, shifting a little to allow an enraged vaman to jump over the vroomer and attack a snow-troll. ‘I’ll manage.’

  She waved at her fellow spellbinders sitting quietly in another corner and sipping their drinks, looking mildly annoyed because service had stopped. No one would bother them. Not until level nine, anyway. The young Elakish woman Triog had hired in the morning to be a crooner was hiding behind the bar, which despite Triog’s best efforts was disintegrating fast. Humans forgot all issues of race and nationality as the battle-lines were drawn between vroomers and non-vroomers. In many ways, the Fragrant Underbelly did its bit for world peace.

  The door of the Underbelly fell in. Standing in the light were more snow-trolls. The spellbinders groaned and rattled their empty glasses. The newcomers joined the fun. But it was a lost cause – the superior bulk of the stalactrolls, the superior shortness of the vamans, the sheer malevolence of Spikes and the sheer surprise of Steel-Bunz were now working together, and the newcomers were welcomed with stunning blows, sharp stabs and vicious nibbles.

  ‘That bunny should definitely come with us,’ said Kirin, watching in admiration as Steel-Bunz accidentally ripped off most of a vaman’s beard.

  Maya wasn’t listening. She was doing some finger-waving near Asvin’s head. Asvin’s eyes suddenly opened. ‘Where am I?’ he said.

  ‘What was that?’ demanded Kirin. ‘What did you just do?’ Yarni lumbered by, holding two snow-trolls under his arms.

  ‘All right, you caught me; it’s a spell I invented. Gets you sober instantly.’

  ‘Cheating! This is outrageous!’

  ‘Look, it’s not cheating. The rules for Dragonjuice challenges are stated very clearly, and every possible violation is listed. They say nothing about using magic.’ Maya protested, dodging a passing flying bottle.

  ‘That’s because your spellbinder laws forbid you to touch alcohol!’ Kirin yelled.

  Asvin sat up. ‘Is it morning? I don’t remember a thing since last evening, actually.’

  ‘They all say that,’ grinned Maya.

  A snow-troll crashed down on the floor near them.

  ‘Get away, monster!’ yelled Asvin suddenly. Avrantics really hate pashans.

  The troll lunged at him, and he would have been seriously hurt but…

  ‘Stop,’ said Kirin. The troll actually froze in mid-lunge and looked at him, puzzled. Then he moved to strike again, but Spikes hit him in the back and he fell stunned.

  ‘It works,’ said Maya, impressed.

  ‘You saved my life, you two,’ said Asvin. ‘And I was actually not wanting to take Spikes! I’m so sorry!’ Large tears rolled down his eyes.

  ‘Please tell me he’s not always like this,’ whispered Kirin.

  ‘No, it’s the spell,’ said Maya. ‘It doesn’t do that to me, but non-magical people would probably get a little emotional. Not his fault, poor thing.’

  Asvin was weeping openly. ‘Kirin, we must swear an oath of brotherhood and eternal friendship. You will be my friend, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said Kirin, but Asvin bawled on. ‘Heroic, isn’t he?’

  ‘Shut up, Kirin. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have cast that spell on him – I designed it for myself. Don’t be mean.’

  ‘Can you take it off now? The spell, I mean.’

  ‘I think so,’ said Maya, doing things with her hands. Asvin stopped crying abruptly and fell asleep again. ‘Tell Spikes to take him to your room, quickly.’

  At a signal from Kirin, Spikes picked Asvin up and fought his way to the stairs.

  ‘The party’s almost over,’ said Maya, watching Yarni’s pashans pound the snow-trolls into submission.

  ‘The vroomers are still at it, though,’ said Kirin, as Triog threw vroomers out from behind the bar, where the Elakish crooner was still screaming.

  ‘I’ve had enough of this nonsense. We’ve got what we wanted; now let’s get some sleep. We’ve got to leave the city at dawn tomorrow – today, actually. Gaam will be waiting at the War Temple at five. With Amloki, I suppose.’

  The War Temple was in south Kol. It had two doors, one facing north and the other south. When Kol was at war, one of the doors would always be open. Inside the temple was a huge statue of a running soldier. When Kol was winning a war, the north door would be opened and everyone saw the magnificent charging soldier, complete with naked sword and tall plumes on his helmet. At other times, the south door would be opened and everyone saw a man running away.

  ‘Do you like Asvin?’ asked Kirin suddenly.

  ‘I don’t know. He seems nice.’

  ‘Yes. I hope he learns to like Spikes.’

  The last snow-troll was thrown out of the Underbelly. The vroomers, loudly protesting that they had only been defending themselves, were pushed out as well. The vamans, of course, stayed – they were all very rich and Triog took care never to offend them. Triog calmed the spellbinders down and gave them a round on the house, which cheered them up. The Underbelly began to settle down. The crooner, asked to croon, broke a plate over Leftog’s head and stormed upstairs angrily. ‘I’ll calm her down, if you know what I mean,’ said Houstarr, emerging from under a table and following. When Houstarr got out from under a table, it meant the fight was over. All those craving more violence either sat down and resumed drinking or trudged off dejectedly.

  Kirin and Maya walked to Enki. They reached Maya’s room.

  ‘Good night,’ said Kirin, hugging Maya. ‘I’ll see you in a few hours.’

  ‘I know – we’re actually going to meet my father. This feels strange.’


  He left. Maya sat down on her bed and took out her diary but was too tired to write, so she put it back in the drawer. She suddenly remembered what she had forgotten to ask him. She ran to the door and opened it.

  ‘Do you still have that book?’ she called, but he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty

  Somewhere in the Southern Free States, Griffinmonth 1st , afternoon

  Lustful thoughts many, Lasting regrets 1 (forgot to change Prince of Potolpur; still in matchbox in room), Aches and pains from riding for a week severe, Magic 5/10

  Am lying on grass in a very beautiful leafy glade. This is the first time in my life that I’m getting to use the words ‘leafy glade’, so I’m happy.

  I suppose I’d better catch up or I’ll end up abandoning this diary, like all the others. After I wrote last, I went to Frags and met Prince Asvin of Avranti, and over a few Dragonjuices managed to persuade him to take Kirin and Spikes with us. There was a bit of a brawl and Kirin saved his life, and they’ve now become fast friends. Kirin hasn’t said anything to anyone about being a ravian, of course.

  We were supposed to leave at dawn. Kirin came over to Enki with a carpet and picked me up. He said he hadn’t been able to wake Asvin up, and Spikes was going to bring him to the Temple. We flew there and met Gaam, his dog Queeen, Amloki and Red Pearl.

  Red Pearl is a centaur, or should I say centauress. The horse part of her is sleek and glossy, and the human part is…well, somewhat spectacular. Even at that hour, there were a few people who had gotten out of bed and were hanging around just to stare at Red Pearl. She’s really beautiful, and has muscles everywhere – I mean everywhere. And she wears really little. Practically nothing, in fact. But there are the centaurs for you – apparently, when Kol was founded, they had lots of trouble persuading the centauresses that it was necessary to wear clothes at all. Of course, if you look at it, the centauresses have a point – if the centaurs can walk around bare-chested, why not them? But that’s the way it is.

  What puzzles me is that she’s a member of the Silver Phalanx. I thought the very essence of being in the Phalanx was that you were inconspicuous and could take everyone by surprise. But with Red Pearl around, everything else seems to fade into the background. Maybe they use her as a decoy. She’s going to come with us as far as Bolvudis Strait, because she knows the southern lands very well. Not that she’s a scholar or anything – she was brought up in the Centaur Forests.

  So we met them – yes, and I had asked Kirin whether he still had the black ravian book with the moongold edges and he said he did – and we all waited for Asvin and Spikes. Amloki was getting very worried – apparently the Civilian didn’t know Asvin was all alone in the Underbelly and would be really angry to learn Amloki wasn’t with him. Gaam pointed out that Amloki wouldn’t be much protection for Asvin if someone did attack him, which might not have been the most tactful thing to say at the time, because Amloki looked really upset.

  Spikes arrived a little later, and said he couldn’t wake Asvin, if he tried any harder Asvin would get seriously injured. So we went back to Frags to wait for him to get up.

  That Asvin can sleep. Kirin kept looking at me accusingly, because obviously it was the Dragonjuice – and possibly the spell as well – that had done this to him. He finally woke up at about ten, and was really apologetic. He’s so nice. Gaam said that traditionally quests were begun at dawn or in the dead of night, apparently because then the environment represents the troubled times which necessitated the quest in the first place, but since we weren’t really going on a quest but on a training mission it didn’t really matter.

  Then we all went back to the War Temple, where Red Pearl was waiting with the horses. A small crowd had gathered around her, which dispersed when Spikes arrived. We left the south gate at noon.

  Being out of Kol is very confusing. The most unnerving thing is the silence. Not having carpets sweep by, not having asurs shouting at you, not smelling strange smells all the time – it takes getting used to. I was looking forward to this, I think – being one with nature and so on, but after a week I know I’m best suited to life in the city.

  I miss Kol. I mean, if the country was all wild and rugged it would be fine, but so far it’s been really tame – mostly rice-fields and empty stretches punctuated by dhabas. This wood is nice, though, light green and fresh. The land is slightly hillier now, which gives me hope. We’re going to follow the South road until it bends eastwards towards the Centaur forests and Ajaxis, and then get off the road and cut through the Bleakwood to Bolvudis Strait. It should take around three more nights, including tonight.

  Another thing that takes getting used to is the substantial drop in magic. Even simple lighting spells are so much harder to do out here in the country. Most of us spellbinders tend to forget how closely magic is interwoven with the place you’re trying to perform it in. The power of the land, and so on, but of course in Kol it’s more the power of the Heart of Magic.

  I’m reasonably bored. The last week has been really dull. I mean, there is only so much entertainment you can extract from paddy-fields and bullocks chewing cud. And this wood is really pretty, but watching trees grow takes more time than I’m prepared to give. That’s the thing about city life – it shortens the attention span. Kirin and Asvin both spent a lot of their early years in forests, so they’re perfectly happy strolling around and smelling the ‘sweet, fresh smell of new leaves.’ Good for them.

  Gaam and I have been talking a lot. He’s wonderful – knows so much about heroes, weapons and legends. I must find out more about the vaman city, Bhumi. The capital, I should say. He told me that most heroes get bored on quests, but of course they never talk about that later, and of course life would seem slow to me, since I was used to traveling really fast. Not that we’re traveling slowly now – the horses are big and strong, and Spikes runs amazingly fast. So does Queeen.

  Speaking of traveling, Gaam and Amloki both astonished the rest of us when they calmly mounted their horses. I didn’t know the little people could ride. And they generally can’t – it’s just the two of them. Amloki’s quite a character, too, and very affectionate. He spends a lot of his time staring at Red Pearl, who, frankly, is beginning to annoy me with her constant preening and look-at-me-I’m-an-amazing-centauress-ness. Gaam, Asvin and Kirin are all practically drooling over her.

  These lands are quite deserted. The only animal I can see is Asvin’s pet rabbit Fluffy, nibbling the grass near my foot. There aren’t too many birds here either, except a crow that has been following us since we left the city.

  I wish we were going to Durg. The journey to Bolvudis is not a pretty one. Soon we’ll be getting off the road and entering the Bleakwood, which is desolate and full of bandits, but Bolvudis is apparently really beautiful.

  So I’m on a journey in the wild. Well, a journey in the tame, soon to be wild, anyway.

  I’m glad this is not a proper quest, otherwise I would have been severely disillusioned. I thought that going on a quest would mean incredible hardships and being ambushed every half hour. But we’ve been speeding down the road, stopping every now and then to eat in dhabas and sleep in inns. Gaam said that the Bleak Forest would be very dangerous, so I’m looking forward to that. It’s been like a little holiday so far – thankfully no one has started singing, though Asvin has a very melodious voice.

  I don’t think I am as drawn to Asvin now as I was that night in Frags. He’s incredibly nice and attractive, but he keeps offering me his arm, helping me get on and off my horse, opening doors for me in inns and so on, which is a little annoying. I’m not some frail little thing he has to protect in the wild. What is really annoying is not him, though, but the fact that I enjoy the attention sometimes. Not a good thing. I caught myself blushing two days ago when he told me I looked wonderful in the sunset, though later I realized that must be because visibility is lower then. It’s very confusing. Yesterday he climbed a hill to get me a wild rose, fresh with the morning dew and everything, a
nd gave it to me to put, he said, amidst my lustrous tresses. I would have pointed out that I didn’t have lustrous tresses, but Kirin stopped me with a look. I have no idea what to do with flowers, I generally use them as targets, so I gave the rose to Kirin, who gave it to Red Pearl, who promptly put it amidst her lustrous tresses, which annoyed me even more.

  Luggage is not a problem either–no trudging through marshes with heavy packs, there are spare horses carrying everything. We have plenty of food, and we keep stopping at dhabas to eat. But we are going off the road tomorrow, and all the spare blankets I brought will come in handy then. The country is a lot colder than Kol, obviously, and the weather is really nice.

  A part of me wishes it would all be like this, a pleasant jaunt out in the country, and after a few weeks we could return to Kol and carry on with life, but I know everything’s going to change. Dan-Gem rising. I can’t really imagine what that could be like. And what is Kirin’s part in all this? My father will know. It will be such a good thing for them, the sudden appearance of a ravian.

  I might be getting bored now, but when things start getting difficult I know I’ll be looking back at today and wishing I could be back here in this leafy glade – I did it again – with the warm afternoon sunlight on my back and Fluffy sleeping next to me, writing and watching ladybirds scuttle through the grass. I’m getting positively lyrical. Must be all this fresh air.

  Must tell Spikes to stop killing butterflies. They seem to be drawn to him, suicidal little idiots.

  Kirin just came and lay down next to me. We’re moving in an hour. We won’t move far this evening, but we’re not getting back on the road again. We’re sleeping in the woods from tonight.

  He’s lying on his back with his eyes closed, looking at the sky – he’s looking as relaxed as I feel.

  One hour later.

  Kirin woke me up. Asvin and Gaam had gone ahead to scout around, and they came back with the news that a reasonably large stretch of barren land lies ahead, separating this wood and the Bleakwood. They think it’s best that we don’t move any further tonight. Fine by me. Asvin, trust him, has brought a chess set with him and is demanding a chance to regain his honour – apparently Spikes told him spellbinders can’t see the future. Damn. Well, I suppose it’s all for the best that he knows. If I am to go on many quests with him, he shouldn’t think I have powers that I don’t. I’ll beat him quickly and be done with it. Will write more tomorrow. It’s getting darkish.