Mandala's Catalyst (Gardone Trilogy)

by Warren R. Henke

  “No!” Char yelled angrily and pounded the ground with his fist. The ground shook.

  Horvold shivered at the ferocity of his giant friend. Even though heavy, even fierce, emotional expression like this was normal for ataiki, it was still sometimes terrifying. Char wasn’t angry or trying to force him to accept his ideas, it’s just how he communicated. Char took a deep breath, probably trying to calm himself. It wasn’t the first time their cultural differences made communication tricky.

  Char Continued, “destroying the animosity first is the only way to defeat the Guide and avoid warfare. If we remove the Guide without uniting first, we will return to war. Like you said, there is too much fear. Without the guaranteed protection the Guide and Director offer, our nations would rebuild their armies because each expect an eventual attack from the other. And with armies lined up ready to fight, what chance is there to negotiate peace? It would only be a matter of time before the battles commenced. We would free our nations only to see them begin killing each other. But…think of what would happen if we united to defeat this evil.”

  Horvold often wondered if overthrowing the Guide was the best thing for Gardone, he certainly didn’t want war again. But the Guide’s way was not right. Initially, the Resistance didn’t accuse the Guide of anything. They only became the Resistance when the Guide suddenly disapproved of them asking questions. And since then, every stone they uncovered gave more dark evidence that the Guide was warped and evil. But even considering that, the wars were the greater evil. Eventually they might find proof the Guide was the greater evil and should be stopped at all cost, but without evidence, it would be foolish to do anything that could cause war.

  “There is nothing I would rather see more than our nations unify, it would solve every problem. I can’t imagine how it can be done, but I’m willing to try.”

  Char answered in a gentle, deep voice. “We can do this. The world is changing; I see it in the trees and the animals, even the land we walk on has had enough. Our people crave peace, they want to unite. They are ready for tolerance and acceptance. They just need to be shown that it’s possible. They need leaders who believe it will happen. I’m not saying it will be easy, but I am telling you, it is possible.”

  Horvold’s eyes moistened, these were the words he wanted to believe.

  “But,” Char continued, “I can’t make this happen alone. It will take all of us believing, fighting, sacrificing, and never quitting. I don’t need followers, I need leaders. I need you, Horvold. I need you thinking, planning, inspiring…I need you looking for solutions and ideas to solve these problems. But before you can do that, you must believe.”

  “I want to believe, Char. I do want to believe we can do this but I just don’t know if it’s possible.”

  “My friend, desire is belief.”

  Horvold’s chest pulsed with fire. Char was right, he did believe. It felt wonderful to believe in the thing he wanted more than anything. But there were so many doubts. What if they failed? Then it hit him: it didn’t matter. He would rather die believing than live another moment doubting. He would take this belief to the grave, fighting like a lion even with his last breath of air for this cause. Death was better than succumbing to a life of slavery. Eventually he would die either way; he may as well die fighting for freedom.

  He sat taller and faced Char. “Where do we start?”

  “We unite a group of men and ataiki at Lake Mandala> and teach each other of our cultures, language, and beliefs. We learn to tolerate and accept our differences. It won’t be easy, but we will make it work. We have to.”

  The fire popped and cracked while Horvold visualized the community living and thriving in the plush lands near Lake Mandala>. “I know a few who will be anxious to give this a try. How soon do you want to start?”

  “Immediately. We need to get settled before the winter sets in.”

  “How many?”

  “At least ten from each nation.”

  “Ten?” Despair fell again. “There are only four of us who know who you are. How can I find ten people who share the ideals of the Resistance, accept the fact that their leader is a mortal enemy, and are willing to leave their homes, friends, and families to start a new life deep in the forest? Not only that, I have to sneak them out of Gardone undetected!”

  “Consider this the first difficult task of many. Move forward with the belief that the answers are already out there waiting for you. As you sit here, now, with me planning for a better world, a force out there is already hard at work making it happen.”

  “I wish I could believe that, it’s a wonderful thought. I know your belief in spiritual powers and I respect that…but I don’t share your belief, you know that.”

  “I know,” Char answered. “But you don’t have to. Just go find me ten strong humans. You will find them. Approach your task with the confidence that within your kingdom of thousands, there are ten people who are perfect for this. There are ten people who want this. There are ten people whose lives will be better because of this. And they are looking for you.”

  Horvold smiled and laughed. Char always had the perfect words. “Alright, you win. I’ll find them.” The fire popped several more times.

  Char continued, “just think of the hundreds of years we have been lost to bitterness. All efforts focused on destruction and war. Once we are united, just imagine where our combined knowledge and strength will take us. Just for a moment, think about what the world would be like today had we not spent hundreds of years battling and killing one another.”

  Another silent moment was filled by the cracking fire which sent glowing streaks of light up into the dark forest.

  “I will return to Toq and gather ten others. We will meet you in Mandala by the next moon. Whoever arrives first should explore and prepare for the winter,” Char said.

  Horvold nodded.

  “Prepare your people for us. Explain to them the ways of my people, especially the ones you found most difficult to accept, well, maybe not how we honor our dead. We’ll wait on that one. All in Mandala must be willing to trust, learn, compromise, and tolerate. They must be smart, able to survive, and hard working.”

  “You aren’t making this any easier for me.”

  Char grunted.

  “Just make sure your Shaman force out there does its part, and I’ll do mine,” Horvold said.

  One of Char’s beady, red eyes disappeared as he winked. “It has already been done, as you will see.”

  Several hours later, as Horvold descended down the slopes of the outer fields into the valley of Gardone>, a powerful rumble shook his body. In horror, he looked to the city to see a large billowing mushroom shaped cloud rising from near the castle.

  * * * Trask heard nothing except the steady, raspy snoring from the night watchman. The castle passages were dark and quiet; the morning shift had not yet begun. This might just work. When Len, Rudolfo, and Thamus arrived, they would have a safe and easy path to the dungeons. He crept closer down the hall toward the sleeping guard. Ahead of him, across from the door, a small lamp rested on a narrow shelf. As he approached, its flame began to dance.

  He peered into the small room where the guard slept, lying on the floor with his arms wrapped around an open jug of ale; it was the only time he had been happy to see a lazy guard. He quietly lifted the plank locking the door to the outside and set it against the wall. He’d begun walking back down the passage when deep thunder rolled. Fine sand drizzled like rain from the ceiling and the ground shook. Then all was quiet.

  An earthquake? Had part of the castle collapsed? He ran back to the door and, with the guard still snoring, pushed it open.

  The daylight forced him to squint, and with his arm shielding the bright morning sunlight, he stepped outside and looked around. To his right were thick trees and the forest. To his left, the pathway carved through the green lawn, flowers, and shrubbery to the front of the castle. He continued to shield his eyes and searched. Everything was quiet, nothing unusual. He
turned and started back then then several screams echoed from behind.

  He spun around and listened. Nothing at first, then another scream. He jogged across the lawn. The screaming grew louder and he broke into a run. He rounded the corner and saw a cloud of smoke rising from the marketplace below. Without slowing he ran past the giant archway entrance of the castle and descended the front staircase in giant leaps of four to five steps at a time.

  Focused on jumping the steps, he didn’t see the marketplace until he was at ground level. Dust blinded him. Screams and cries beckoned from every direction. He stepped forward, stumbling over a soft object. Looking down, the bloody body of a woman stared lifelessly at him. Horrified, he stepped over her and moved his way through the carnage.

  He moved forward in a defensive stance. A hand grasped his ankles and he quickly jumped aside and turned with fists clenched.

  “Help me,” said a weak voice.

  He looked down to see a woman lying in the dust. He swallowed back sickness as he looked at her charred face.

  “Help is coming,” he said. “I have to find out if the danger has passed.”

  Before she could dispute and before the guilt set in, he turned away. As he moved deeper the cries around him lessened. The bodies no longer moved. There was only raw flesh and death.

  “Trask!” a hand touched his arm.

  He jumped and turned to see Rudolfo, whose face was streaked with blood.

  “Over here,” Rudolfo said and pulled him through the maze of bodies.

  He saw Len and Thamus leaning over a body. Len looked up and Trask was mortified. Len’s face was charred black and splattered with open red wounds. The whites of his eyes were bright against his darkened face.

  Len struggled to speak. “We bound his wounds, but he is near death. He needs help. This place will be swarming with guards and we need to get out of here.”

  Trask was unable to speak. His mind went blank. What was happening?

  “Where are the dark ones?” he asked, looking around nervously.

  “No dark ones, Trask. The Guide did this,” Len said. “He’s gone now, but we have to leave. Help us carry Endell. We need to get him safe.”

  Trask knelt, slid his hands under Endell’s body, and stood with him cradled in his arms. “Follow me,” he said.

  Trask walked through what was left of the animal stalls. He turned to make sure the others were following. Rudolfo was helping Thamus walk and Len was limping not far behind. He waited for them to catch up.

  “I know where we can go, it’s not far. Thamus, hide your sword before somebody sees it.”

  Rudolfo helped Thamus conceal the weapon underneath his tattered clothing and they weaved their way through the passages normally used to usher the animals in and out of the market. As they left the dust and commotion, they heard the guards arriving, yelling orders, and attending to the wounded.

  They crept through the back alleys. The city was frenzied in panic, fear, and morbid curiosity. People yelled and cried from every direction. When an alleyway afforded a view to the streets, hoards of people could be seen running both to and from the devastation.

  Trask led them through the narrow gaps in the large stone buildings, routes he often used as a guard. During the small breaks while he waited for Len to catch up, Trask monitored Endell’s weak breathing and his struggle to stay alive.

  “Just around this corner,” he said in a low voice as Len, Rudolfo, and Thamus approached. He looked down at Endell. “Hang in there. We’re almost there.”

  Endell’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open, and he didn’t respond. But he was still breathing. Moments later, the men slipped through a door and into a small, dark room. A tiny window high on the wall provided little light.

  “Horvold? China?” Trask yelled.

  He walked across the room and laid Endell on a pile of furs and blankets. Thamus and Len knelt beside Endell. Both carefully began removing his burnt and tattered clothes.

  Trask stood, “I’ll find water and clean bandages. If China is here she can help us”

  “I’m here, Trask, what happened?”

  * * * The familiar voice of 3 surprised Len. He turned to see a short, dark haired woman step out of the shadows.

  “Something happened in the marketplace,” Trask said. “Endell is near death and needs your help.”

  China frowned uncomfortably and walked over to talk to Trask. Len turned away, to give them privacy. For a moment he watched Thamus whispering to Endell while caressing his arm in the only place it wasn’t burned.

  “It’s safe, we are all Resistance.” He heard Trask saying to China.

  “Alright, but you need to explain to them what I’m going to do.”

  Len turned around just as China vanished again into the shadows. Trask faced them.

  “China is one of us and she can help Endell, but…” he paused. “She will be using magic.”

  Len grinned. Rudolfo’s mouth dropped open and Thamus sat up.

  “Magic? Is that safe?” Thamus said.

  “Yes,” Trask said. “I’ve seen her perform miracles. Believe me, if she can’t save him nobody can.”

  Magic was rarely used even before it had been banned by the Guide. It was difficult to control even by the most wise. Of the few that possessed the talents to use it, fewer had the patience to spend years researching and learning its secrets. This would be the first time Len had ever seen real magic, other than the soul orb. But even that was a magical device, not actual magic being performed.

  “I thought the Guide could sense magic,” Rudolfo said. “Won’t he be able to find us the minute it’s used?”

  “That’s what they say, but it’s not true. China has been using magic for years,” Trask said. “Don’t worry, we are safe and she knows what she’s doing.”

  China returned with her arms full. Trask took a large pot from her and placed it on the ground near Endell. She placed several items around Endell and then knelt next to him.

  “What caused these wounds?” she asked as she studied Endell. “I’m guessing this has something to do with the explosion?”

  Nobody answered; Len was busy looking at the strange things she had placed around them.

  “I need to know what happened, in order to treat him I need to know what caused these injuries.”

  She lit several candles and immediately Len smelled a sweet fragrance. She put various plants in a small mortar and began to grind it with a pestle.

  “Len, what happened?” Trask said.

  Len snapped around to look at Trask. “Endell wanted to show me a small box. But it didn’t seem like Endell, I think it was the Guide. Somehow I think the Guide had control of him. I thought I could figure out what was going on by pretending I believed him. He handed me the box, which felt warm.” Len closed his eyes and visualized the box. Then he reached out his hands as if he was taking the box from Endell. “Then his face became pale and his eyes looked strange: distant, hazy, maybe they were even glowing. And then he spoke in a strange voice, a woman’s voice, and said ‘Endell is too strong, he’s breaking free. Come now.’”

  “It wasn’t Endell’s voice at all?” China asked.

  Len opened his eyes. “No. It sounded female, but rough. And a strange accent; one I’ve never heard before. And that’s all she said. After that Endell spoke again, in his own voice, and said, ‘I’m coming now.’ His eyes rolled back and he collapsed. We’d both been holding the box and I almost dropped it but pulled it out of his hand. It started getting really hot and I knew something was wrong, although I didn’t know it was going to explode. I tried to throw it over the wall.”

  He shook his head, “But I failed and when I tried to go get it I ran into Rudolfo and we both fell just as it exploded. Everyone around us was…” He trailed off, remembering the faces of the people that had been standing around them.

  “Did you smell anything strange during the explosion?” China asked.

  Len couldn’t see her through h
is tears. “No.”

  “It was probably a simple spell not involving mind altering or corrosive regents, just an explosion. First, I’ll do a ritual that will expose all of us to a mild healing essence and after that I’ll prepare a mixture for Endell. I think he’ll be fine.”

  “I better go help the others in the market,” Trask said. “You all stay here, I’ll be back later. China, do you need anything?”

  Len wiped the tears from his eyes.

  “We’ll be fine, Trask. Go help the others,” she said.

  Trask turned and walked to the door and China put several fingers on Endell’s forehead. The room brightened as Trask opened the door to leave, and darkened again when he pulled it shut behind him.

  Chapter 12

  Misguided Integrity

  Knudson’s eyes opened. He had planned to sleep until midday but golden sunlight streaming in from the window told him it was still early morning. He had barely slept at all. He closed his eyes for a moment hoping sleep would return, but it didn’t. Staying in bed would be pointless. And so rather than tossing and turning all morning in a lost battle for slumber, he grumbled and rolled out of bed.

  Halfway through buttoning his shirt, somebody banged on his door and he jumped. One of his buttons fell to the floor. With a bitter scowl and his hairy chest exposed, he ripped open the door ready to punch someone.

  “Sir! There has been an explosion! A massive explosion!”

  The wide-eyed terror in the young attendant dissolved his anger. “What?”

  “Come on!” The young guard didn’t wait; he turned and ran down the hall.

  Knudson sprinted after the young man down the hall and through the guards lobby to the archway leading out to the balcony. Several guards and servants were standing next to the balustrade looking down. He ran to the edge and looked; a monstrous cloud of dust hung in the air. Below him, fires burned and people screamed.

  “What happened?” he yelled to the guards and servants around him. None answered.

  “You!” Knudson pointed to a guard who snapped to attention.