The Days of the Deer

by Liliana Bodoc

  Yet Molitzmós understood what he seemed not to know, and had his own answers. The Lord of the Sun never believed that Misáianes considered him his equal in power. He knew the ambitions of the Ferocious One, and because of that was glad to be his eyes and his arms in the Fertile Lands. Misáianes’ most loyal subjects would be princes in the realm of vanquished Creation. And he would be one of them ...

  The light over the pond was fading, but Molitzmós could still see a space filled with the presence of memories.

  He himself was there, expressing his disbelief at the first promise the Sideresian had made him. ‘Tell me, who can possibly think that the Magic of the Fertile Lands will choose me, precisely me, to go to their Great Council? Rest assured, I will not be the one who goes as the representative of our people, but someone from the reigning House. However much the Supreme Astronomers say they are impartial, I know they consider our fight for the throne to be illegitimate and cruel.’ The Sideresian heard him out, and smiled. ‘Molitzmós, just wait... simply wait. You’ll see that one day soon a messenger will come to your door to take you to Beleram.’ On that occasion, Misáianes had kept his word. As he had when he promised that Illán-che-ñe would be his servant, with no will of his own.

  Many years earlier, the struggle for the throne had led the Lords of the Sun to battle. Still only a child, Molitzmós had seen his House defeated. Whenever one of his brothers did not return, his father’s wives gathered to mourn the dead warrior. Molitzmós recalled their tears. When his father was stabbed in the back, everyone suspected each other. He could remember all the whispers and bewilderment. The shameful gifts that the victors offered to buy off their former enemies: Molitzmós remembered that too. But above all else, he recalled his grandfather’s ire at their unworthy surrender. After this there was a period of apparent calm, when many of his House, especially those who could not disguise their hatred, had to endure all kinds of humiliation and suffering.

  All this time, Molitzmós’s grandfather was busy organizing revenge. Silently and deliberately, knowing he would not live to see it, he brought up the most worthy of his grandsons for future glory. In Molitzmós, their House would once again have a leader who would return it to its deserved place. His remaining span was barely enough for him to carry out the task he had set himself. That was why, on his deathbed, he called Molitzmós to him and made him swear to devote all his soul to the conquest of the throne which had been theirs in days gone by. Molitzmós loved his grandfather, and the oath he swore to him then became everything that gave his life meaning.

  Despite this, the years went by without his being able to complete his mission. The reigning House was powerful. It acted astutely, and kept a watchful eye on everything.

  Molitzmós’s hopes rose when the Sideresian arrived: he was aware of the power of the One who had sent him. And the more he learnt about Misáianes, the more he was convinced of his inevitable victory. The Fertile Lands would cease to exist. And if Misáianes became the absolute ruler of the Fertile Lands, better by far to stay in his shadow. Molitzmós did not care what rule Misáianes intended for this world. What was the point of lamenting something that could not be avoided? It might be seen as the end of free will for the Creatures. It might be seen as the ruin of Creation, or a world subservient to the wishes of the Ferocious One. Molitzmós dreamt that this world, whatever it might be, would have a place for him and his House. The war would end one day. The Sideresians would return to the Ancient Lands, and he would be left here, with the title of Lord of Lords. What did it matter to him if he had a master on the far side of the ocean? Molitzmós would survive. And with him, his House, part of his people, their treasures and their cities. The rest was inevitable.

  The light had gone from the sky. Everything was in darkness. The servants of the House of the Stars were lighting the oil in their lamps, and the trail of light they left behind showed Molitzmós they were heading towards him. There were many such servants, which meant they would soon reach him. The Lord of the Sun wanted to make use of these last moments of darkness to convince himself there was not the slightest room for doubt.

  None of Misáianes’ subjects could turn back. Besides, what good would that do? More than ever, Molitzmós had to make sure he carried out his orders properly, not forgetting that he was on the side of those who would finally triumph. It was not for him to get caught up in the fighting, however much he gave the House of the Stars the impression he was keen to do so. His energy must be aimed elsewhere. Misáianes’ finger pointed him towards his goal: the bonds between Magic and the Creatures of the Fertile Lands. This was where his Master’s greatest efforts were directed, because this brotherhood was his greatest obstacle. Molitzmós closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his resolve was renewed.

  Before he left the pond, he repeated a vow. ‘I swear from the shadows . . .’ The children saw a cloud pass in front of the moon.

  26

  THE BLOOD OF THE DEER

  Dulkancellin was riding Dusky One. Cucub was on Spirit of the Wind. The two men were heading to meet the Husihuilke warriors approaching Beleram. Dulkancellin was galloping as fast as he could to cover the distance between him and his brothers. Behind him, Cucub tried as best as he could to keep up.

  Dusky One suddenly pulled up on the top of a small rise. This time it was because his rider meant him to.

  ‘There they are!’ cried Dulkancellin, pointing to the road in front of them. He waited for Cucub to come alongside, then they both galloped down as fast as they could.

  The place where they met was not far outside Beleram. The road the Husihuilkes were travelling on was not the narrow, hidden path that Dulkancellin and Cucub had taken the day they came to the city. The southern warriors were marching along one of the busiest roads in all Beleram. Broad cultivated fields ran along either side, separating it from the jungle. The morning was ripe with the joy of their re-encounter.

  Dusky One and Spirit of the Wind plunged down the hill. Below, in the midst of abundant maize fields, Kupuka ordered the warriors to halt until he could make out what this strange mixture of men and animals coming towards them might be.

  ‘It’s my father, it’s my father,’ repeated Thungür next to him.

  ‘Yes, it is your father,’ said the Earth Wizard with a smile.

  The Husihuilkes were filthy. They were weary. And hungry. Yet if necessary they would have been ready to face any enemy.

  ‘We won’t have to do so for now,’ said Kupuka, turning to his men. ‘Brothers, it is Dulkancellin who is coming. And with him is a good man.’

  The Husihuilkes had lost many warriors in their skirmishes with the Pastors. Some of them were wounded, and all without exception were exhausted. In spite of this, beneath the dust and their weariness, anyone could see they were real warriors. Perhaps now it will be possible, thought Dulkancellin.

  Thungür leapt forward to meet him. Dulkancellin dismounted and stood waiting for him. His son was no longer the boy who ran with the oriole’s feather in his hand and, frightened by the forest’s prediction, had asked not to be left alone. When had the change occurred? Dulkancellin did not think of the time that had elapsed, but of all that had happened, and so was not surprised to see standing in front of him a man as tall as he was, a man who grasped his arm in greeting. Yet if he blinked, it was the same person as the boy he had left. Dulkancellin greeted his son, then stepped forward a few paces to salute the warriors. The new arrivals returned his greetings in the beloved language he had not heard for so long. These were Husihuilkes. Husihuilke men in whom Dulkancellin began to recognize himself once more.

  ‘Greetings, old man,’ he said, embracing Kupuka.

  The Earth Wizard looked like an apparition. He looked older than old, with his long white hair tied up and covered in dust, his nails like a mountain goat’s. So animal-like, so wise, that Cucub could not help anticipating with pleasure the ridiculous expression on the Plumed One’s face when he finally met him.

  ‘Greetings, old m
an,’ he said.

  While the Zitzahay was having his fun, Dulkancellin gazed on well-known faces once more. He found neighbours and cousins; men he had fought with, and men he had fought against. There they were, from every village and clan. And there was one young man, his side covered in healing herbs. Dulkancellin did not know what to do, or even how to look at him. Who knows? Possibly it would have been enough for Kume to say some words of greeting to his father. Who knows? Perhaps his father was refusing to acknowledge him again. The fact is that the youth remained where he was, and Dulkancellin looked away.

  This was a day of shocks for the father. And soon Dulkancellin experienced the greatest shock of all. Beyond the last line of warriors, Kuy-Kuyen was waiting patiently for him to discover her.

  ‘Why did you bring Kuy-Kuyen?’ Dulkancellin could not believe his eyes. ‘Explain to me, old man. Why did you bring her?’

  ‘I’ll do so as soon as we set off again,’ Kupuka replied. ‘Reason has many facets; and these men cannot wait while you see and understand them all.’

  The warriors were fascinated by Dusky One and Spirit of the Wind.

  ‘We call them animals with manes,’ said Cucub. All at once, seeing he had an audience once more, he began to raise his voice and explain the whys and wherefores of these remarkable beasts. Explanations which threatened to become endless. Fortunately, Kuy-Kuyen chose that moment to greet him.

  ‘Greetings, Zitzahay man.’

  ‘Greetings, Husihuilke woman.’

  Cucub was doubly pleased to see her.

  ‘I am pleased to see those eyes of yours again. And also to find someone else my own size here.’

  Immediately the order was given to renew their march. Dulkancellin mounted Dusky One and asked Kupuka to climb up too.

  ‘I’ll take you with me. On the way you can show me all the facets of your reasoning,’ he said. Then, turning to Cucub, he told him: ‘You take Kuy-Kuyen with you.’

  Hearing this, his daughter shook her head and shrank back.

  ‘Don’t be afraid,’ said Cucub, holding out his hand. ‘Tell him your name and you’ll be friends.’

  Dusky One led the way, at walking pace. Dulkancellin constantly looked round to talk to Kupuka.

  ‘Tell me about Old Mother Kush.’

  ‘She will even now be kneading her bread.’

  ‘Tell me about Wilkilén.’

  ‘She has hardly grown. But her hair is long down her back.’

  ‘And Piukemán ... Why did you not bring him?’

  This time there was a long silence.

  ‘Someone had to look after Kush and Wilkilén,’ Kupuka said hesitantly. ‘He’ll be able to do that.’

  There were many things Dulkancellin wanted to ask. And in particular one thing he did not understand at all.

  ‘What reason could you possibly have for bringing Kuy-Kuyen to this threatened land?’

  ‘One thing at a time,’ replied Kupuka. ‘There are two things you have to remember before you grow angry: first, there is as much danger at the Ends of the Earth as there is here. And secondly, Kuy-Kuyen is here now.’

  What Cucub had imagined with such amusement paled in comparison to the effect Kupuka’s entrance to the observatory actually created. The Earth Wizard came in still wearing the rags that had accompanied him throughout his journey. And he clung on to the wooden staff that he refused to give up, even inside the House of the Stars. Probably everyone present, including Zabralkán, was taken aback by Kupuka’s wild appearance. But, as Cucub had anticipated, it was Molitzmós’s reaction that was by far the most extreme. The look on his face was less one of welcome than of disgust.

  Yet the reason for the meeting was not Kupuka’s appearance, and this was quickly forgotten as the important matters were discussed.

  These were nothing less than the spinning of a slender thread of strategy. The Deer knew his only chance in the war against Misáianes was to strengthen his hold in every possible way. Men would organize and lead the men. Magic controlled the other forces in the Fertile Lands; and in the sky they could look into the mirror where the future could be discerned. Zabralkán’s concern would be for the alignment of the stars and auspicious dates. Kupuka’s head was to be filled with hordes of peccaries, swarms of wasps, and poisons.

  The army of men was growing stronger. The arrival of the Husihuilkes, together with the division of the Lords of the Sun advancing from the north behind the lines of the Sideresians, made them far more numerous and skilful. The Deer weighed their strength, and dreamt of victory.

  The following days were ones of much hard work. And if the House of the Stars had already become crowded with people, so now too was the whole of Beleram.

  The pond at the centre of the House of the Stars became the meeting place for all those seeking rest. And also for those who in the midst of the preparations for war had found a chance to become friends.

  Kuy-Kuyen and Cucub were among those who met at the pond every day as dusk fell.

  Kupuka and Zabralkán were another pair. The Supreme Astronomer acquired the habit of leaving the observatory to visit the area surrounding the House of the Stars. Against a time-honoured tradition, he went around without an escort. ‘We need as many people as possible to carry out more important tasks ...’ was his answer to anyone who objected. Despite this, he never asked Bor to do without his escort. Never once. Even though he knew that if he lifted his head from the edge of the pond where he was walking on Kupuka’s arm, he would be sure to see Bor’s disapproving face at one of the observatory windows.

  Kume and Molitzmós also met by the pond every day. Always with stern faces, and far from the others. A strange friendship indeed, and one typical of those days of turmoil.

  When the moment came to march off to war, these friends went in different directions, according to the role destiny had allotted them.

  Zabralkán remained in the House of the Stars. Kupuka disappeared on his own with his bag into the jungle.

  Kuy-Kuyen stayed to work with the Zitzahay women. Cucub rode to the north-east, following orders from Dulkancellin.

  Molitzmós left with the army, in command of a company of spearbearers. Kume was sent with the troops heading north-west.

  At dawn on the day of departure Cucub was the only one in tears. Kuy-Kuyen, accustomed to the harshness of the Husihuilke warriors, was pleased to discover that men too could water their faces with sadness.

  The men Dulkancellin had sent out to reconnoitre came back with news that a party of Sideresians had advanced a long way from the Border Hills and were camped on the far side of the Red River.

  ‘We have seen them with our own eyes. And we are pleased to say that our own forces are far greater in number.’

  ‘Where exactly are they camped?’ asked Dulkancellin.

  ‘They are resting in the Between the Feet Valley.’

  They were talking about a low extension of land at the estuary of the Red River With Feet Apart. One channel of the Red River ran through the south side of the valley; the other flowed to the north. The Deer already knew the place where the battle would be fought. He knew that on this occasion he would have more warriors than the enemy. Now he had to make sure that the Sideresians’ advantages – their weapons and their animals – were reduced, and if possible turned against them.

  That night the warriors of the Fertile Lands began their march. They headed towards the coast, looking for the mouth of the Red River, to the east of the site of their first battle against the Sideresians. The Deer had the virtue of being able to advance without a sound. Nobody apart from the creatures of the jungle could hear him.

  The front line of the army was reserved for the Husihuilkes, something less than half of those who had come to the Remote Realm. Most of the remainder were sent with the troops heading north-west. The rest, together with a large number of Zitzahay, were guarding the House of the Stars. The warriors were armed with bows and arrows. With clubs and axes.

  Next to them, in similar streng
th, were the spearmen. These were the most valiant of the Zitzahay, and were led by Molitzmós, second in command to Dulkancellin.

  Behind them, and protecting the flanks, were the rest of the Zitzahay army. In the rearguard came the people from the villages. Some of them were too young, others too old for the main army. Most of them were coming to war after a gentle life producing their goods and taking them to market, smoking their leaves, and dancing for their dead and the newborn. Yet afterwards it was said and sung that they fought with the bravery of true warriors, and so went down in history. Cucub was one of them, his job more that of helping out where he could than of fighting.

  The Deer had chosen to split its forces into two prongs, so that they could cover more of the land and discover and disrupt any attempt by the Sideresians to attack Beleram. Then on a day and at a place already decided, their two divisions would unite again.

  The north-eastern division, commanded by Dulkancellin, came to a halt at the edge of the jungle. From there, hidden among the roots, high in the branches of the trees, or concealed behind trunks, they could keep watch on the Red River without anyone suspecting their presence.

  The wheel of the day had turned. The storm which had been gathering on the horizon at sunset risked hiding the moon. The heavy clouds seemed to be pulled in opposite directions. One which wanted to offer the Deer the good fortune of light. The other which wanted to deny it. This struggle lasted for some time. The clouds paled when they drifted away, but swept back, black and gold-edged, to encircle the moon. Finally, deep into the night, the friendly side won its battle in the sky, and the storm abated.

  On the far bank, the bonfires the Sideresians had lit showed the silhouettes of their guards, and their animals’ uneasy movements. Surprise was the Deer’s best chance. To preserve it, all the warriors breathed softly, and Dulkancellin told Cucub to keep the few animals they had with them as quiet as possible.

  At first light, the Sideresians began to move out as the Deer had expected. They were going to cross the river: first the mounted men, behind them the foot soldiers. The warriors from the Fertile Lands also took up their final positions. The jungle breeze came to their aid, mixing light and shade so much that the enemy could not see any of their movements. Protected by all the arms of Mother Neén, the Deer waited. The Sideresian riders had almost finished wading the river. The men on foot had more difficulty because the water pushed against their thighs, and because they had to keep their weapons dry. The first riders were already reaching dry land. But the Deer was still waiting for most of the enemy to be in the water.