Quest of the Wizardess

by Guy Antibes

  “I’m with a band of fortune hunters. We are heading to the Temple of Helevat.”

  Lily shook her head. “A fool’s errand.” She waved her hand at Bellia. “I don’t know how many treasure maps are in existence, but there have been many expeditions into the jungle. Of those who’ve left for Helevat, only few have returned. None have reached their goal. All of them report that there are ghosts that kill in the jungle. The few survivors have told the identical story, so I believe its true. They all have an ancient map, but it seems to have done no one any good.” She sighed.

  “When was the last to leave?”

  Lily shrugged. “I’m not told when everyone leaves, but if they return, I see them all. Their bodies are shredded by large claws.”

  “Is a temple out there?”

  “Certainly. Thousands of years ago, a city surrounded the temple of the gods of the world. The legends are vague, but the gods fought and in their conflict they destroyed the inhabitants. Perhaps some curse created the ghosts. No one knows, it’s been so long, but everyone knows it actually happened. You risk your life going into that jungle. You will never return.”

  “It is true. I may never return. After we finish with this treasure hunt, successful or not, I intent to travel all the way to Grianna. There’s another servant I wish to visit in Togolath.”

  “Do you know of a servant called Rullon?”

  Bellia nodded. “I joined up with some Rangers and we escorted him to the Temple.”

  “He is a great man. The only wizard known to have served as Prior.”

  “Prior? I thought he’d always lived in Togolath.”

  “His term lasted only ten years and then the Blind God called him back out into the world. Rullon is more valuable making observations than reading them. He writes me from time to time, but it takes months to hear from Togolath. We wizards must stick together, right?”

  Bellia merely nodded her head. She didn’t consider herself a practicing wizard. The two little books of spells in her pack had stayed unread.

  “I must return to my friends. Do you have any hints that we may use?”

  “Don’t use any magic if you can help it. The survivors who had wizards in their party told me the ghosts went after the wizards first.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind.” She thanked her for her time and walked out into the sweltering air.

  She found Menna standing surrounded by long heavy knives that looked like crude sabers and clothing with hats covered with a fine mesh. Tents and water skins were piled next to rope and poles.

  “Where is everyone else?”

  “Romo is buying food. Yezza’s two men are finding us a place to stay tonight and she’s gone to get horses. We’ll need three extra to carry all of this gear.”

  “Well, there are ghosts in the jungle. The parchment talked about protectors and a curse. Perhaps they are the same thing. The healer has talked to a few survivors. The ghosts are described as beasts with long claws. She has seen shredded flesh on those who have managed to return.” Bellia picked up a tent. “Not exactly army issue.”

  “No, but it’s waterproof and we won’t be using them for months on end.”

  “Most likely. By the way, it’s good we don’t have wizards. She said that’s the first thing the ghosts go after,” Bellia said.

  Menna smiled. Bellia had never seen such a ruthless look on her friend. Was she still a friend? “Long fingernails mean they have real bodies which means we can kill them. If we can’t kill them, we can cut them up into little pieces so they can’t scratch us.”

  Bellia shivered at the thought. She didn’t kill for the pleasure that now disfigured Menna’s face. Bellia couldn’t share in Menna’s excitement.

  ~

  Less than ten leagues west from Palubat, the farms and villages thinned as the vegetation thickened and grew tall. The jungle seemed to swallow them all up.

  Bellia enjoyed bringing up the rear as much as Menna felt a need to lead the group deeper into the Durnnan jungle. She thought of Ned. He said he lived in this country. Wully told her thousands of years ago? What would this land have looked like then? Even now, her cheeks burned when she thought about Ned. Could Wully be believed? It all seemed fantastic, but her approaching the temple at Helevat seemed just as unbelievable.

  Yet, Ned freely offered her friendship and Bellia freely gave hers, up to an embarrassing point. She touched the flute inside a pocket underneath her oilcloth coat.

  The jungle was beautiful in its own way. It looked much the way the music made it appear in her mind. The insects were, unfortunately, left out of the tunes. They continually sought out tender human flesh, but the netting, as ridiculous as it looked draped over her body, did a good job of protection.

  Yezza sat on her horse, waiting for Bellia to catch up. “Don’t you love the heat, the humidity and the stink?” She laughed then turned dark. “I hate it—every minute in this bath of steam. The jungle’s like a rose, beautiful in its own way, but its thorns fly around and prick you.”

  Bellia laughed along with her. “I must agree, this is disagreeable.”

  Yezza grunted. “That phrase doesn’t come out like that in my language.”

  “Speak to me in your language. I’d like to hear how a native speaks it.” Bellia wondered how the Middab pronounced their words.

  “How can you know the language of the Middab?” She said.

  “Could you say that again?”

  Yezza repeated her sentence.

  “Because I learned many languages at the Temple.” Bellia laughed after she had replied in the Middab language. “I’m sure this comes out strange. The person who taught me wasn’t from Eustia. Do all of the Middab speak the same language?”

  Yezza looked at Bellia curiously. “Your accent is positively barbaric, but I understand. Would you like to work on your pronunciation?”

  “Anything to keep my mind off of these bugs. So what was life among the Middab like?”

  Yezza began to talk in her native language. “We love the plains. All of the Middab join in that feeling of being one with the Layer. The Middab exist in a tiny layer between the sky and the thick earth. We float along on the surface, moving from place to place, taking just enough to create what we call the Balance.”

  “The Kokotans used to be like that, I think.” Bellia said.

  Yezza spat on the ground. “Kokotans. Perhaps once they worshipped Winna, Goddess of the Layer in which we live. But no more. Menna...” She lifted her chin towards the woman twenty paces ahead. “That woman practices a corrupt version of the Middab code. It is fashionable with those who live on southern fringes of the plains. Winna does not permit the sacrifice of blood. I’m not so sure about your friend Menna. All life on the plains is sacred.”

  “But don’t the Middab war with one another?” Bellia worked the vowels and tried to emulate the cadence that Yezza used.

  She laughed. “You try to talk like me. I talk like a female. You speak like a man. Let me show you.”

  Her voice became a little higher and the cadence changed along with the tonal changes Bellia used. “All life on the plains is sacred. We use all we kill.”

  “But what about wars? What becomes of the destruction?” Bellia caught on to the way Yezza spoke.

  “Better, but we must practice more. After our wars, we tend the wounded on both sides. If a tribe has a healer, not all do, their services are freely given. Those who die are left to the layer. Animals feed on the bodies left behind when the spirits of men, women and children sink into the earth.”

  “Do you worship the Blind God?” Bellia said, carefully pronouncing her words.

  Yezza pursed her lips. “A puzzle, the Blind God is. He has a following among those who seek out knowledge. The Blind God has no strength, only thoughts. Winna is our goddess.”

  “Is there no strength in thoughts and ideas?”

  “Not for the Middab. Oh, we have our scholars who write our words and keep our numbers, but most of the rest shun those p
ursuits and roam the Layer to experience life. You have made me do all of the talking. Now it is time for you to answer my questions. Have you thought any more on my offer? We can live a wonderful life in Togolath. Find strong men and be Queens.”

  “No life in the Layer?” Bellia said.

  “I will ask the questions.” Yezza was visibly startled by Bellia’s comment. There was pride and shame mixed up inside of the Middab woman.

  Bellia spent the rest of the afternoon discussing blacksmithing and soldiering with Yezza. The Middab woman had no interest on what went on inside the Temple of the Blind God. When they stopped for the night, she clapped her on the shoulder and, surprisingly leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Middab custom. You now speak properly, like a woman. You have done very well.”

  ~

  “What was Yezza’s kiss for?” Menna said, as they had become tentmates once more. The night sounds nearly drowned Menna’s words out.

  “Middab custom, she said. We had a very interesting chat—for an Assessor at the Temple. We spoke in her native tongue for most of the time. Perhaps it was her way of congratulating me on achieving a little bit of mastery of Middab speech. She is a complicated woman.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that. Did she offer you half the treasure if you and her kill everyone else when we get to the treasure?”

  “As a matter of fact she did. I imagine she did the same with you?”

  “No, not at all. I do believe that woman is partial to you. She respects strength, but she also respects your mind and I don’t hold a candle to you there.” Menna laughed and then turned serious. “I also believe in the end it will be you and I left standing with the treasure at our feet.”

  Bellia had nothing to say to that, so she grunted. “Good night, Menna.”

  “Fare thee well... tonight.”

  Bellia thought that was an odd turn of phrase. Yezza talked about the Layer. Bellia had confronted too many layers in both Menna and Yezza. She couldn’t help the gnawing feeling that the expedition would end in tragedy and that she would have to be very careful not to become one of the tragedies.

  ~

  “Up this cliff.” Menna looked up towards the top of the hundred pace high cliff.

  “No mention of a path, Bellia?” Yezza said, hands on hips.

  “I’ve read through the instructions. It mentions this, calling it the equivalent of an escarpment.”

  “A what?” Romo asked.

  “Like a plateau. This is the part of it that goes straight up. It’s flatter once you reach the top.”

  “We’ll have to leave the horses and tie them up,” Menna scratched her head through the netting they all still wore.

  “No!” Yezza was adamant. “The horses are set free. If Winna wills, we see them when we return.”

  “Winna wills. Now you’re religious?” Menna said.

  “Bellia reminded me of my heritage. I still believe it… some.” Yezza colored and pursed her lips.

  “We might end up going out a different way, Menna. What about the horses then?” Bellia had no stomach for restricting the beasts.

  “Perhaps a compromise,” Romo said. “We can hobble the horses. They won’t go too far and over time, their hobbles will come off and they can go where they like.”

  Menna brightened. “Is that acceptable?” He looked at Yezza.

  “Barely.” She turned and began to strip her horse.

  “We won’t be able to take tents, so grab all the netting and the food. We’ll split it amongst us. All of us,” Menna said.

  Bellia could feel the struggle for dominance between the two women. “Don’t leave any weapons behind,” she said. “We have yet to confront the ghosts.”

  Menna spit on the ground. “Ghosts. It’s only a legend.”

  “Legends have a habit of killing.” Yezza sneered at her.

  “I’ll kill the legends, then,” Menna said.

  Everyone bundled up his or her possessions. Menna walked around each person and tested their packs. The pile of discarded equipment grew. Bellia did the same for Menna. The statue reluctantly crowned the pile, but the parchment would make the trip.

  “Maybe your whistle should stay, Bellia.” Menna wanted to strike back. A black expression blossomed on Menna’s face and it just as quickly dissipated.

  “I can carry it. I’m young and strong.” Bellia tested the weight of her pack and looked up at the wall and then she realized that the comment had been made to be mean. Would Menna get worse until they made it to the temple? Was it all of the stress, or was Bellia seeing the true Menna.

  “It’s time to climb,” Menna said.

  They walked around the cliff face for some paces until a faint trail showed itself. Within an hour, the group reached the top.

  “That wasn’t so bad. Anyone want to go back down and retrieve anything?” Menna said. Bellia wondered if her friend would retrieve her statue, but Yezza just moved into the jungle.

  “I’ll make sure we can find this spot,” Menna said as she chopped three flashes in the trees surrounding the top of the trail.

  The jungle thickened even further as they walked. The sounds of the jungle became a living thing, pulsing louder and then softer. Occasionally a screech punctuated the din. Occasionally the sounds stopped as Menna chopped more flashes in the trees. It was close to late afternoon when they came to a clearing.

  Romo looked around and found an old fire ring filled with ashes. She looked around into the jungle uneasily. “We aren’t alone.”

  Menna kicked a rock off the ring. “So much for ghosts. People inhabit this jungle.”

  “People with very long fingernails,” Yezza said hugging herself, not caring if anyone noticed her discomfort. Bellia thought it a significant change.

  “This camp could just as easily been made by treasure seekers. Your map wasn’t the only one that has drawn treasure hunters up here,” Bellia said. “The beasts probably make their attacks on this plateau.”

  “Three of us stay awake for half the night while the other three sleep.” Menna pulled off her pack. The rest followed.

  Bellia walked into the jungle to relieve herself. She made sure her weapons were loose. After she was ready to return to camp, she saw a stone seat covered with vines, dead leaves and jungle loam. Clearing off the seat, she had to admire the shape and decoration. Time had worn off the hard edges. How many other benches, statues or other artifacts lay under the green shroud of the jungle? She sat down and pulled out her flute.

  The jungle song came to mind as she put the flute to her lips and played. Visions of the very jungle that surrounded her came to her mind, but this time she saw the seat as it looked originally. A circular building appeared as she continued to play. A dome dominated the temple, for that was what it was. A hundred steps led up to the top. She had the impression gods lived inside. As the song ended, the vision returned to the jungle.

  Bellia blinked as she finished. For a moment she felt the jungle of long ago and the jungle of today merge. A rustle in the bushes caught her attention as she went to his short sword, the better weapon in the close confines of the jungle. The sound stopped. Perhaps an animal, she thought.

  “What kept you?” Menna said, her attitude hovering somewhere between a tease and a sneer.

  “Nature.” Bellia said.

  Yezza came up to her as she laid out her bedroll. “Did you play your flute?”

  “I did and that’s the reason I took too long.”

  “I felt a bit of the music. It seems to have more strength up here.”

  “Perhaps a touch of magic,” Bellia said. She only hoped the kind of magic that came from the flute wouldn’t attract the ghosts.

  Yezza shivered and put her hand to her tightly bound chest. “A strange magic, not natural like the Middab.” She left.

  Bellia sat and pulled out dried fruit and her water skin. Not natural. What magic was natural? Was the Middab any different? She didn’t know. She stretched out and went to sleep. Her watch w
as the last half of the night.

  ~

  They had to make their own clearings for the next four nights. The thick vegetation made travel excruciatingly slow. Menna blazed their trail. She made her three-slash blazes on both sides of each tree she sighted, making sure they traveled in a straight line. The fifth night they camped by a stream and, so far, the ghosts had left them alone.

  ~~~

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Temple at Helevat

  ~

  All of them spent half an hour making a clearing out of the jungle floor. Bellia volunteered to fill up water skins. It seemed so right to play her flute where Ned might have played it. This time she picked a lullaby. The images the tunes generated in the jungle were different than when she played on the ship or in Testia as they made their way to Flathua.

  The tune started slowly and as Bellia remembered it brought forward memories of the past. She would generally see her family as she played this tune. When she finished, she decided to play the tune on the scroll for the first time. It would be fitting to play it up here.

  As she lost herself in the music, she was in the middle of a crowd of short-statured people. They seemed to live a simple life. Perhaps they were slaves? Life was enjoyable and they had good feelings for their masters. Towards the end she saw them flee into the jungle from their simple villages as something changed. As she ended the tune, she felt the yearning for better days.

  Again, she felt the strange pull of the past and the present sort of fusing as the music faded in her mind. She looked up and saw a human face in the brush. It was bone white and looked as afraid as Bellia. The image bolted into the brush. The bushes quivered where the thing observed Bellia. No ghost. She grabbed all the skins and ran back to the camp.

  “We have company up here.” Bellia dropped the water skins.

  “You played again.” Yezza looked at her with a sliver of contempt. “The music attracts them as honey attracts bears.”

  Bellia decided now was not the time to contradict her.

  “Same drill,” Menna said. “Three and Three. But tonight, with swords drawn.

  ~

  Bellia had to slap her face and bite her tongue to stay awake during her watch. Romo and Yezza’s two companions came and positioned themselves around the camp. Bellia was asleep within moments.