“Amazing,” said Caver. “How did this happen?”
“No idea,” replied Allur, “but some kind of magic was involved, in any case.”
As soon as they had hacked their way through the underbrush and brushed off their clothes, they set off towards the south along a forested mountain ridge. When they had reached the gravel road that led out of the forest, and eventually began to relax, Caver suddenly raised his hand in warning.
“Listen, do you hear?” he asked, worried.
At first, they didn’t hear anything but the whisper of the forest, but eventually they discerned the sound of horse’s hooves approaching in the distance.
“Shouldn’t we hide?” Zania wondered, anxiously.
“No,” said Kark. “The forest is so thin that we would probably be visible and, anyway, we’re going to have to meet the people in this country, eventually, to see if our disguises work, so it might as well be now as later. A problem, though, is that it might take time for the transponders to translate the local language, so let’s hope that they don’t speak to us before that, and ask for an answer.”
They nervously continued along the road until, finally, they saw a black covered wagon, drawn by four large white horses. They watched anxiously as it slowed in its approach.
“Isch tri prodor katzek,” shouted the grizzled driver, who sported a drooping moustache, when the wagon had come abreast them, while the horses twitched their ears and impatiently tramped their hooves.
Kark checked the transponder in agitation, but its indicator light refused to turn green. With a cold sweat and her heart pounding, they hung back at the side of the road, not having the faintest idea of what they should do. She knew that, as group leader, the others expected that she would make a smart decision, so she desperately analysed the alternatives at hand, although without arriving at any sensible plan. Often, however, it’s best to do nothing, as seemed to be the case this time, too, for after having stopped and repeated his question, without an answer, he obviously became tired of waiting and eventually urged the horses to start moving down the road again.
“What do you think he wanted?” asked Neiger, once the wagon had moved out of sight.
“I don’t have a clue,” said Kark, “and we probably never will, either, since the transponder didn’t succeed in deciphering his language.”
After a few kilometres, without meeting anyone else, they emerged from the forest to gaze upon an open landscape of rolling fields. Eventually they had become hungry, so they moved off the road to sit a while and take a break in a little hollow.
“So far, everything’s gone well, except for that incident in the forest,” said Zania, as they sat and ate some of the bread and dried meat that they had brought with them. “I haven’t been that afraid since I was a child.”
“I have to admit that I was also pretty afraid,” said Gondar, “but we had better begin to get used to danger now, because it can’t be far to Gildar.”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Kark, “but if one just takes one thing at a time, everything usually works out, so what’s next is that we’d better get moving if we hope to arrive by dark.”
They put on their backpacks again and continued along the narrow road that wound its way forward through a peaceful landscape. A light breeze carried with it the smell of fertilizer and new grass, as the swallows swept by, screeching across the fields, in their constant pursuit of insects. Now and then they passed small houses and occasionally met farmers riding alone in their horse-drawn wagons. But luckily, nobody paid much attention to them, so that eventually, in the late afternoon, Gildar revealed itself in the distance. When they reached its outskirts and a lively marketplace, they did their best to pass unnoticed, but still felt that every eye was upon them. Soon they were surrounded by people busy with their trading, however, so that they suddenly had to ensure that they didn’t lose each other. It was crowded with colourful stalls full of everything one might want: house pets, spices, jewellery, clothing, farming equipment and weapons. To her great relief, Kark at one point checked her pocket and saw that the transponder was now showing its green light, so that suddenly she could understand everything being said around her.
“It’s too expensive,” muttered a farmer with a huge beard.
“Too expensive!” shouted the seller, upset. “Thirty zardes for such a fine axe! I can tell you that you won’t find better quality in all of Gildar.”
“Bah, I’ve seen axes at least as good in Hillsbro. It’s not worth more than twenty zardes.”
“Twenty-five zardes is my last offer.”
They didn’t hear the end of the discussion, but when they walked along a little distance, they encountered an auction of household pets that seemed to attract much interest.
“Who will give me four hundred zardes for this fine horse?” yelled a swarthy auctioneer.
“I bid two hundred!” shouted an overweight man in a blue overcoat.
“Two hundred!” screamed the auctioneer, angry. “Is the horse going to disappear for that ridiculous price? In that case, it’ll be the best deal that anybody here will have made today!”
There was a babble of voices all around them, but they were finally able to leave the market behind. Eventually they arrived, via a tight, narrow alley, at a tree-lined square, where a broad street with tidy houses lay. After asking several people for directions, without any result, they met a tiny hunchbacked old woman who was able to tell them that they were only a few blocks from Dalvi Square.
With quick steps, they hurried onwards down a hill, which ended in a sharp turn, and opened immediately into a large open area, a statue of a knight in armour in its centre, which could not be anything else but the spot for their rendezvous. Since there was still almost an hour before they were to meet Edar, they decided to take a stroll around the area, so as to avoid attracting attention. When seven o’clock finally neared, they returned to the statue, where a young man, elegantly dressed, stood waiting. After ensuring that they could see that he had on a coat with the symbol – a yellow star-shaped badge – they could identify him by, they went up to him and asked if he knew the way to Pietro Square.
“Yes,” he answered, “it’s in the town of Aldain.”
They had just managed to hear the password when they were surrounded by a large troop of uniformed soldiers, commanded by a very large officer in a black cape, who ordered them to put up their hands and avoid doing anything stupid.
“Who are you?” asked Allur.
“My name is Bediz Ortovay, captain in the duke’s army, and sword-bearer of the highest rank.”
“But I don’t understand what you want with us. We’re just a bunch of peaceful farmers here on business.”
Allur’s protest was answered by the captain’s grabbing his arm and twisting it so hard that he groaned in pain.
“Are you going to come freely or do you want to make this difficult? In our interrogation rooms you’ll have plenty of time to explain what sort of customers you are.”
After the soldiers had searched them and seized their belongings, they were ordered to walk down the street, with their arms raised, until they arrived at a fortress-like building, where they were locked into a damp jail in the basement.
“Well, that’s the end of that,” sighed Caver.
“It’s not over until it’s over,” said Allur.
“It’s good you’re positive,” said Caver, with a dry chuckle, “but I can’t see how we’re going to get ourselves out of this one, this time.”
Dispiritedly, they sank down onto their cots and fell into dire thoughts about what the future might bring. Eventually, a few stocky guards returned and gestured that someone should follow them; before they’d managed to think it over, Anderika stood up and went toward them.
“No arguing, it’s best like this,” she said, when Kark tried to object. After the guards had led her down endless corridors, they arrived at an interrogation room, where the captain sat, waiting. He was dressed in a gre
y uniform with silver braids on the collar and shoulders, and with his not inconsiderable mass was quite an impressive sight. His features were strong and almost rectangular, his eyes intensively brown, his nose long and arched, and a large deep scar ran along one cheek.
Once the guards had announced their arrival, he ordered them to stand outside the door and stand guard until the session was over.
Since Anderika could understand what he said, she concluded that the transponder must be nearby, and wondered if their other things were there, too.
“You are accused of high treason!” he proclaimed, in a loud voice, once she had sat down in the chair opposite him. “Do you have anything to say in your defence?”
“I can only repeat what we said earlier, that we are merely simple farmers who’ve come here on business,” she replied.
“There are many things I don’t know,” he said, amused, “but that you are not farmers is something I am entirely sure of.”
“But it’s true.”
“Is that so? Do you have any other amusing things to say?”
“No, nothing at all.”
“Good! Then maybe we can get down to serious things, at last. Edar was a traitor; after we exposed him a few years ago, we replaced him with one of our own men. So, to begin with, I want to know who you are, where you are from, and what you’re doing here?”
“Why should I tell you that?” she asked, defiantly.
He tiredly looked through some papers on the table between them, and looked at her intensively.
“Believe me when I say that we are not going to avoid any measures in order to get to the truth. If it doesn’t come freely, we usually succeed with torture, so it’s up to you to decide which way you want to have it.”
As she was thinking about what she was going to say, he suddenly stood up and, to her surprise, brought out the converter, which had been taken from her during their arrest, and asked what it was.
“It’s a music box,” she answered, her heart pounding and trying to sound as glum as possible.
“Really? Show me how it works,” he said, sceptically.
Soon you’re going to be doing as we say, your stupid lout, she thought, and then proceeded to adjust the power setting and turned it on.
“OK, so how’s it going?” His irritation was mounting.
She was just beginning to give up hope when, to her great relief, she saw his pupils widening and the corners of his mouth beginning to twitch.
“Are you on our side?” she asked him, once the indicator light had come on, and drilling her eyes into his.
“Yes,” he answered, curtly.
“Tell me how we are going to regain our freedom.”
“It won’t be easy, since the jail is strongly guarded. There are always two guards at the entrance and at least another twenty are posted around the building. Of course, I am their commander, but since only the jail warden has the power to free prisoners, they are going to question my decision and report me if we are going to try to leave.
“Alright, it’s going to be difficult to escape unnoticed, and it won’t be possible to do it by force, either, so we’re going to have to use some trickery. Do you have any ideas?”
After a few moments, his face lit up into a broad smile.
“Yes, I think I’ve come up with something that might work.”
“Let’s hear it!” she eagerly pressed him.
“If I can convince the warden that you have friends on the outside that are planning to free you, he’ll certainly agree that we move you to a special jail some distance north of town. When we’re halfway there, I’ll order the guards to return to Gildar, under the pretext that another contingent will be relieving them, and then we continue in two covered wagons.
“That sounds like a perfect plan.”
“Not bad, anyway,” he replied, pleased, “and where do you plan to travel next?”
“To the Blue Mountains,” she said.
“In that case, you have a long and dangerous journey ahead of you,” he gasped, surprised.
“Yes, but unfortunately we have no other choice. Do you think you could guide us there and help us find some hunting rifles, equipment and clothes that would be appropriate for Sylvanians?”
“Of course. At the moment, I have no other desire than to help and assist you. Clothing and equipment are easy to get a hold of, but rifles will be harder to get in a hurry. So, I recommend archery equipment, which is also a normal part of the Sylvanians’ arsenal, and both silent and efficient.”
“That will be fine, and we even have quite a bit of experience with bows and arrows. When do you think we can put our brilliant plan into action?”
“One day is enough for my preparations, and since there isn’t any reason to delay, I suggest we leave tomorrow morning.”
“Good, agreed,” she said, nodding.
Once the guards had escorted her back to the cell, she told the others that Bediz had now become their ally and would help them escape.
“That’s really a fantastic surprise,” said Zania, impressed. “I was thinking that we were really done for this time. But if it wasn’t your female charm that won him over, which I strongly doubt, then it must mean that you had a converter in your possession, which you hadn’t told us about?”
“Yikes, is it really so unlikely that I could win over a man?” she asked, hurt.
“No, of course that’s not what I mean; I mean this particular man,” laughed Zania. “He seems made of stone and insensitive to that type of attention.”
“Yes, of course your assumption is correct. You’ll have to forgive me for concealing it from you, but I was afraid that it’s power supply would end up being used for something unessential. I hadn’t expended that it would need to be used so soon, but things are often not as we plan. Now it was put to really good use, because I can’t imagine what we would have done, otherwise.”
“Is it the same kind of converter as the one we used against the monster?” asked Allur.
“I couldn’t believe my eyes when I discovered it in the temple on Leido, and I was even more surprised when I later had a chance to examine and found out that its power supply was still intact. As far as I can tell, it should be enough for two more conversions.”
“Isn’t it strange that both this one and the other one had the capacity for three conversions?”
“Yes, it can seem so, but it has to do with the laws of physics, since the power available, like in pi, which is approximately three, sets the limit for the circular magnetic field that can be generated in a portable converter.”
“Well, in any case, it’s fantastic that we have the converter available,” said Kark, pleased. “With it, and the captain, our continuing journey feels a little bit easier to handle.”
After an uneasy sleep, they were wakened with a breakfast of watery gruel and dried bread crusts, after which the day slowly dragged along uneventfully. A sliver of daylight squeezed through a tiny crack up in the ceiling, and occasional muffled voices interrupted the otherwise compact silence of the unending morning. They were fed cooked turnip with dry brown bread for lunch, then spent the rest of the afternoon and into the evening on their cots, staring into space and contemplating their future. Suddenly, in the gathering dark, they heard the rattle of keys in the door and saw the captain’s large frame blocking the door.
“Get ready,” he said, quietly,” the commandant bought my plan and has agreed to transfer you to Gledder Prison under the cover of darkness.”
Sometime later, they heard keys again, and in the darkness Bediz’s rasping voice ordering them to follow him into the corridor, where eight soldiers stood waiting. Without mishap, they soon found themselves outside the jail, in a narrow back alley, where a cool evening breeze wafted around them refreshingly, a treat after their long stay in the stuffy damp cell. After a few blocks they were into the countryside, and soon the town was far behind them, as they struggled to keep up with the steady marching strides of the soldiers. A ligh
t warm breeze brushed over the surrounding fields, under the starry skies. They eventually reached the spot where the fictitious changing of the guard took place; none of the guards suspected a thing. Once the men that Bediz had arranged to meet them with horses and wagons had left, they changed into sylvan clothing. The men put on long, shiny yellow capes, black boots and floppy hats, while the women dressed in flowery capes, harem pants and small, round caps of different colours.
“These clothes are quite a bit different from the simple peasant clothing we arrived on the mainland with,” said Zania, swinging herself around.
“Yes, really,” said Caver, “although I’m not sure that they’re any better because of it. I feel like a scarecrow.”
“We’re not going to be that way now,” said Anderika and started to laugh so hard that she almost began to choke. “What was that about thinking positive?”
“I’ll try,” he answered.
“Can anybody drive a wagon?” asked Bediz, once they were ready.
“Yes, I’ve ridden quite a bit,” answered Allur.
“Good, then you can take that one,” he said, pointing at the wagon that was furthest back, “and I can take the other one.”
As soon as they’d climbed onto the covered red wagons, Bediz grabbed the reins and started off into the darkness, with Allur driving right behind him, gravel scattering from flying hooves and wheels. By dawn’s approach, breathtakingly beautiful, they had travelled a fair distance from Gildar, so that they felt it was safe enough to stop by a stream so that the horses could drink their fill and rest. Bediz soon told them all to hitch up the horses to the wagons again so that they could leave.
“Can’t we take it a little easier now that we’ve come so far?” asked Zania.
“No, that’s not advisable. We have to continue as quickly as possible to avoid their catching up to us,” answered Bediz.
“I’m sure he’s right,” Kark admonished, when it looked like she was going to protest.
When they eventually entered a long, stately allé, birds scattering through the green leafy treetops as they proceeded, Zania said that she would never have thought that it would be so wonderful to be able to stop being a princess.
Loria Page 17
