“It proves that Scharon was hurt by an arrow from our garrison’s archers.”
“I think that everybody here is right,” the Queen restarted the stalled conversation. “There are no Munti in this affair but once again there is this deadly combination of Travelers’ conditioning of our own people to do harm. As rulers of this kingdom, we cannot hide from our responsibilities and it is our duty to keep things working, but we have to play our hand carefully and make Garon feel we are in tune with his induced machinations while playing against them. We have to make them believe they have deceived us. ‘They’ meaning the Travelers; Garon is no longer the great chancellor we knew.” Her tone was bitter. From deep in my memory another dialogue surfaced, Nefertiti, the same resentment against the unpredictable, unwanted fate overpowering the human capacity to react.
“We now don’t have the means to send Scharon away. There is no expedition being planned; to set one up just now would be too provocative and Garon would react with all the power he can recruit. I cannot let this happen.” The King was very astute in his judgment.
“I think we have a substitute for this: we keep Scharon here to defend the city in case another attack occurs. This will keep him far from the Munti villages.”
“And will make things easier for them in case of mutiny.”
“Our understanding of the situation is that no other Baramunti were involved in the black hats’ conditioning.” I ignored his words. “All other Baramunti companies should be sent to the borders. Everybody saw Garon’s reaction in the meeting; he was appalled by the killings of children and women. The Munti are still his brethren.”
“This could go either way; Garon could join his Munti if the conditions were ripe for this.” The King was growing more and more nervous as more or less all the alternatives seemed to have a flaw hidden deep inside. “I want all versions of our plan to take into consideration the possibility of Baramunti mutiny and alliance with their Munti relatives. None of us can foresee what exactly lies behind the Travelers’ maneuverings: do they want the war to destroy Baragan or do they want to destroy both Baragan and the Munti and make room for the Nogi? What if the Travelers also contacted the Munti Council?”
“We would already have seen the Munti armies on our plains by now, but we can send a delegation there and try to work out their position.”
“You would be the best choice to go there.” Altamira smiled at me while saying this. A great fear suddenly mounted inside, coming from the depths of my mind. White skeletons surfaced from old memories, dancing on a morose path of gray. The SAT-mine memories resurfaced. It had never gone; it was only concealed by the effervescent life in Dava, the safe city of Dava.
“No way.” My words came out with a life of their own, almost shouted, and all eyes locked on me with expressions varying from alarm to condescension. “I am sorry, I am not feeling well.” I tried to cover my anxiety and to apologize for my brusque answer. My face was helping me; white skeletons were still dancing before my eyes. “I know little of Munti, I never met one until our encounter with Duras.” Shit! This was a mistake.
“Duras is in your debt after the fight to the death challenge. You allowed him to live, even only for this reason you will be the best choice for the embassy.” The Queen spoke softly, but her words were like hammers into my mind. “You made a good impression on him, and that impression was passed on to their other rulers; all our messengers came back with these words.”
“This will only create a majority for the hawk’s camp in the Council.” The King unexpectedly took my side. Okay, it was not really my side, it was his side, but it helped.
“Yes, it will, but next month is the Assembly, and the Council will subordinate its activity to that, and we still have the majority there,” Altamira stopped him. “It will provide a month’s opportunity for the embassy to be carried out. Maybe even a month and a half.”
“What makes you think we will still have the upper hand in the Assembly?” the King asked with anger.
“We can play the arms lobby by giving them some fat contracts in the next six months to prepare the army, which will also play to the population’s fear. We prove to the people that we are taking powerful calculated steps to defend their houses. All that remains is to decide,” my voice crumbled again, I was convinced that with the Queen embracing the departure I could not avoid leading the delegation, “whether I should leave secretly or in plain view. I’m not sure...” My future is here, thoughts engulfed me. Refusal would bring more chances to remain alive, but shame would stick to me, and that life would not be easy. My new understanding told me to adapt, even with so many swift decisions coming from this meeting. I then tried to put on a good face, and show them my previous cowardice was only an accident. Altamira fixed her gaze on me, and I am not sure that I fooled her.
“Is one month enough for you?” the King asked.
“It should be; I still don’t believe they were involved in the attack.”
“Yet you will have problems with the destroyed village.”
If they want to punish us for the killings, I will... “That’s why we need Scharon out of the field. One village destroyed lowers the chance of success; several villages would ruin it completely. Munti must have people here gathering information. They must have some interesting questions about what really happened. If they are not involved, as I believe, they would have the same feeling that invisible forces are making them into scapegoats.”
“Would they use the Baramunti for gathering information?” the King asked again.
“Most probably, but we cannot take this for certain. It would be an interesting and useful find to discover a core of Baramunti people plotting against Garon. The enemy of our enemy is our friend.”
“Friendship based on common enemies has an unpredictable lifespan and no one can foresee what will happen when enemies shake hands.” Which, I had to agree, was correct.
“You will go to deliver an ‘ultimatum’ to the Munti. This will calm spirits here. Should we use the banks to buy off the arms lobby and kill two birds with one stone before sending the embassy?” The Queen’s intervention made my trip a fait accompli despite the King’s visible irritation. He was now one against three, if he was really against, in our reduced version of the Council.
“I advise against using the banks; they are as popular as the Munti. If they push, and they will, the center of gravity of the discussion will move from war toward the bank’s rapacity. If by chance they do not push enough we have to make them to do it. This will tie their hands, and buy more time for my trip.” I went home like a somnambulist.
“You almost destroyed all the reputation you worked so hard to gain here,” Batranu castigated me. Such a bitter tone, I had never heard him speaking like this.
“You don't understand,” I complained. No one can understand; I am doomed whatever I do.
“What do I have to understand? The SAT-mines. It can happen. But we have lived long enough, and seen many things other people only can dream about.”
“I am cursed to stay alive when meeting that mine again; if this cannot be guaranteed you have to kill me.” He was not sure if I was serious or it was kind of delirium. I saw this perfectly in his face: his pupils contracted for a second, a bitter smile appeared on his mouth, then he avoided my eyes, unsure about an answer. “What do you think will happen if I am destroyed by the mine?” I pushed further.
“You will disappear without a trace. You have no kids, so no indirect effects on other people’s lives.” His eyes suddenly expanded. “The Primes' planet! They will disappear too. I am sorry, I judged you in haste.”
“Yes, this is the Primes' planet, and I was the giant passing them over the mountain. Everything you see around you will be gone without a trace. Everything, people, cities, only an empty place will remain.” An utter sense of failure pervaded me, and I saw through it only one chance: the chance to die. Should I ask for it now? It will make things clear, some things, only some things. A strange f
eeling of excitement made its way up through my mind. I don’t understand, I protested, but no one answered my call.
Gradually, the anxiety that accompanied my initial transfer to this planet gave way to a sentiment of frustration, now transformed into overwhelming fear, which made my reactions slow and timorous. I finally understood the full extent of my mission here, but I was not able to see what path I would need to take to complete that mission. The feeling of being just a small fish caught in a large net did not help either. Our lives were in the balance, an entire world was close to the edge of the abyss. It occurred to me that I wasn’t always my own best friend, and neither was Houston. I no longer wanted to discover or to travel; the thought of going again into an uncertain area like the Munti’s land was driving me crazy. The SAT-mine menace did not help, either. I cannot explain this, as technically nothing had changed. I was on my own, as I was from the first day on this planet; still, Houston’s departure had fractured my will. The council decided to send Batranu and Arun with me, until the first contact with Munti was made. I later found out that it was Altamira’s proposal, but I am sure that Batranu was also in on this. Why did she do it? The question lingered for a long time in my mind. Political calculation? Something else? That 'something else' possibility added more hours to my already long nights.
Munti
My cadets were not ready for warfare; young and untrained, I chose them mostly for their social skills in a desperate attempt to break, somehow, the coldness between the two races. The best dancers, the best chatterers, good looking ... are they aware? They were proud of accompanying me; the young do not think life, they live it, and one month is enough for a young lad to fall in love. The distant beat of galloping hooves made them feel uneasy, Munti riders, tall and long-limbed, proud on their horses, were coming – a running forest of spears. Magnificent cavalry, I could not avoid envy. I wish to have them on my side. What for? Be careful of your wishes. They can come true. The riders split, with perfect precision; two wings formed and closed in a large circle that was shrinking fast – around us. The cadets’ faces got longer, color left them, white as the snow, silent as the night. You are not yet dead, I smiled, and the thought calmed me. “Don’t worry; this is more for impressing the audience.”
“I hope you are right,” Batranu whispered. “I don’t look well when impaled, I am too skinny.”
The cadets' nervousness passed into the horses, trotting filled the plain, dust swirled … a neigh, another one... Horse and human sweat mingled in the air, flaring nostrils, burning minds. This smell, I know it... Sekigahara battle ... the end of my samurai training. Mitsunara’s last desperate charge. I was his soldier ... a spear put him down, a bullet burned my left shoulder ... we lost the battle. She always immersed me in the losing army. Why? They are desperate, they fight harder, you are trained better. Wake up, this is not Sekigahara, nobody will die today.
“Baragans! What are you looking for? There are no villages for many miles.”Duras! I did not expect it, but I hoped you would come. “Only soldiers ready to protect them.” Villages... Their death is haunting me. No, death is hunting you. Not here, not now. Bloody Scharon, I will kill you...
“We have to talk.” Look at me … I could kill you. Make him recall… “Open talk … as we had last time.”
“Killers!” one Munti shouted. “Killers!” another voice joined. “Killers!” “Killers!”... The spears hit the shields, metal on wood, like drums: drum, drum. “Killers!” Drum, drum... The drums of death. No! There shall be no death today. The cadets unsheathed their swords. Drum, drum...
“Sheath the swords!” I hurled. “Now!” Drum, drum... The riders are not attacking... It's a show. Drum, drum... I hope.
“I want to die with the sword in my hand,” Batranu whispered. Drum, drum... “Take your order back, the boys deserve it too.” A frightened Cotiso charged the first rider, in a foolish gesture. “For Dava!” he shouted, charging with the sword up over his head that was barely reaching the shoulder of his target. A split second later the Munti spear unmounted him. The free horse ran away neighing fear, jumping in the last minute over his body. Drum, drum... No, not this, not now. Another cadet charged. I stopped him with a fist kick into his sternum; he fell with no sound. Drum, drum...
“Stay back,” I hurled again. Cotiso jumped on two feet. The drum stopped. I caught his eyes, he went past his fear. He is moving... The spear... The rider pressed his spear on him again, without hitting. Cotiso thrust the sword's point into the ground and stayed still. You hit Cotiso with the wood...
Batranu downed another mad attacking cadet. “Sorry," he whispered. “It's just a show... I am getting old.”
“You try to scare us,” I said bitterly to Duras.
“A young man provoked another young man, nothing aforethought. Good training, and ... a small price to pay anyway.” At his sign, the Munti circle of spears opened. We dismounted and separated from the two groups. “Are you mad? What is happening in Dava? We don't burn villages and towers. We are soldiers, not marauders killing children.” His bitterness struck at me. What are you expecting? Flowers for killing women and children?
“We are maneuvered, badly. The same people attacked both villages and towers. We have no control of them, and they have plans for you too. Bad plans. I cannot say more … here.” Slowly, one bit at a time; make him think, make him ask questions; defuse this bloody tension floating around.
“A third party … killing people for fun. I won’t buy it.”
“Not for fun.” Are you sure? “Not only for fun. Let’s meet in the middle: a foreign party joined an existing one.”
“Travelers … they come here to help us.” He looked unimpressed, how can you erase the memory of so many dead people with an incredible story? I met his eyes, and read an expectation I could not explain in that moment, as if he wanted to believe, or a different thing I could not understand.
“They have their own plans here. They just use us. We are nothing to them.” All your life was conditioned to believe them... Time to wake-up. They want to kill you, they want to kill me. To kill me... Bastards! They almost did it.
“You are not alone in saying this.” What the hell do you mean?
His eyes vacillated for a second, trying to avoid a smile. You should not be amused… “You have just served me back your own riddle.”
“The Erins: they told us once that Travelers can be harmful. Arrogant strangers ... I never could read their faces, gray and cold as the stones are.” You trust them less than people in Dava. I should have asked you before...
“Arrogance doesn't kill. The Travelers do.” Bad idea. No, push them. Make them think.
“I talked too much. You always make me talk.” Your turn, his long stare told me. This is why I am here, to talk.
“I need to meet those Erins.” 'You do not meet Armin when you want; you meet Armin when he wants.' Houston's voice filled my mind; an infusion of old memories, a feeling of loss I fought hard to keep inside, warriors cannot afford weakness.
“Maybe you will. They announced you, that’s why I am here.” Who is their source in Dava? Any role in my trip? I need to meet them. I really need it.
“They announced...”
“Yeah, I know you like to set your own riddles,” he laughed, and I remembered how mystified he was about me knowing the white wolf story. ‘I have a riddle for you,’ I told him, now it was the payback. “I will give you another one: Erins say that Scharon is leading the killers,” he continued, and before my puzzled eyes, he laughed even more. Laugh … laugher erases mistrust.
“Why all this if you already know the story?” I muttered. My voice was not low enough, and he answered back: “Trust but verify.”
*
It was the day before Arun and Batranu would go home; anxiety resurfaced, a seed waiting to transform itself into pain. I knew that they could not help and that contact or no contact with Houston was not making any difference, still I could not stop myself thinking about this, again
and again.
“You were right, man; the black hats are using them like tools, load the program and they will obey.” ‘Load the program’ touched some old memories. My IT job. That life is dead; forget it. Arun has a big mouth and colorful speech, the wine is good... After all the events of the autumn Assembly, we had remained in contact; I enjoyed his free speech, his way of telling stories and his political connections. “The idea of sending Scharon out was brilliant; it was like a magician waving his wand in the air and, poof, the bad guys disappeared. Even Merlin would envy you.”
“Who?” No Merlin here, Ency whispered. Batranu nodded to wait.
“Merlin, a magician from old England. Oh shit, my big mouth.”
“Who are you?” I stepped to the left, grabbing my sword; Batranu went to the right, his sword half out.
Arun caught our moves. “I am unarmed.” He made a step back. “Wait, wait... I am from the same place as you, that piece of shit named Earth. Sooner or later you would have discovered anyway. They think that I speak funny, you understand what I mean, and in the end all the baggage I came with is written on me: man from Earth.”
“So, you are from Earth.” From Earth... Earth people are not here for nice vacations. He must have a Gate behind him. Or a Traveler. Whose side?
“Yes, proudly American. And you are ...”
“It is not for you to ask questions,” I snapped at him. I had heard this before ... Travelers. They barked the same phrase. Is this a sign? He helped us. Why? Ask first, shoot later, he is unarmed. I checked his body with a glance. He raised his hands: “I said I am unarmed.” Fear filled his voice. What should I ask first? “You knew that we were from Earth. I am pretty sure that you did not find out this from our Romanian accent.”
“Dracula's people, they should be aware of hosting vampires' offspring here...” The joke faded with no laughs, his smile died. “No, I was told that two new people were coming into town, I even received pictures of you.”
Io Deceneus: Journal of a Time Traveler (The Living Universe) Page 29
