by John O.
These Icasa must really be a strange lot, she thought. The streets appeared to be empty although nightfall was still hours away. Her history training taught her that the pure-blooded colonies preferred to operate at night instead. On seeing what appeared to be an inn, she decided that it was the most likely place to find a horse. Holding her breath, she entered and took a seat at the far end, hoping to sit and wait till a rider stopped by. Her plan was simple, as soon as a rider came in for afternoon ale, she would slip out, mount his horse and ride for the woods. Mulling it over, it sounded even more imprudent than when she had first conceived it. It would be a miracle if she survived the day, she thought numbly.
“You contemplate theft, foolish one,” a low, raspy voice suddenly said behind her.
Crippling fear made her body shiver slightly as she turned around to see an elderly woman regard her with even eyes.
“The horse you seek will not permit you to ride him. Are you not aware that we Nimusha bind our beasts to us with magic such that they obey no other? Clearly you are not from around here, though you have the semblance of one from these parts.”
Oddly glad that at least her disfigurement was not in vain, Surita replied, “I would be foolish to lie to you now. Yes, I am not from here and I have need of a horse. Do you wish to help me?”
“Foolish one, who told you that I offer help?”
Ashamed at her presumption, she unconsciously bit her lip as she contemplated an answer.
“I require a handmaid for the night. Today, my son returns from a long journey and I shall need some help around the house. Trade in your help and I will give you a horse on the morrow,” the woman offered. Noticing Surita’s reluctance, she smiled and added, “One such as you must know that we Nimusha are known for keeping our word. There may not be many of us left, since that cursed Hinary Rosento forced us to cross-breed after having killed off most of our men, but we remnants remain loyal to our old ways.
It was true, according to the accounts of her history trainer. “If I am to accept your offer, I will need something more in return. Your son must accompany me on my way as my personal guard, up until I am safely within the Main Farm.”
“She attempts to bargain!” the woman exclaimed. “I thought I just told you my son will just be returning from a journey? You must be heartless to have him depart so soon after he returns.”
“The Main Farm is but a few hours away. That is no journey!” Surita objected
“Very well. I shall see to it that he does. Remember, I cannot force a grown man to act against his will. All I will attempt to do is persuade. The rest will be up to you. Do you consent?”
Surita reasoned that the worst thing he would demand of her in return would be sex. She could easily live with that, after all the Helesp could forgive the use of her body in such a dangerous situation. “We drink to this,” she acceded.
“I’ll buy,” the woman replied happily. “Won’t you ask what my name is?”
“Is there any need? In a few hours I’ll be gone. But you may tell me yours if you wish.”
“Only if you ask,” replied the woman as she wondered what made Surita so sure she would be gone soon.
Rosi Lite arrived at the gates of the Ispris residence where he met two beautiful girls that could only be Aisprises.
“I seek the HN, Yosi Sint. Is he here?”
“Yes he is,” replied one of them.
Visibly relieved, Rosi breathed out deeply as he thanked the Almighty Spirit. “May I come in to see him?”
“He is currently with the Ispris; perhaps you may wait at the reception until they are through?”
“That’s fine by me. However, may you at least notify him that I’m here? I have some urgent information to pass across.”
“Not a problem,” replied both in unison as one of the Aisprises departed to deliver the message.
“You fail to give yourself the credit you deserve!” Yosi exclaimed as he looked through the Ispris’ art collection. “Waterfalls, trees, wonders of nature all brought to life with your art. I wonder how you do it. A paint brush and I are as unto a Leade and a sewing needle,” he joked.
Stealing every opportunity to glance at her, Yosi hadn’t felt this alive in a long while. In an ideal world, she would have been the perfect match for a man like him. He suspected that she had similar thoughts about him, for according to Maya, the Ispris was not quite friendly with men. Not that she was hostile, but she never paid them much notice, probably due to having being constantly flocked around by boys and men throughout her years. Yet here she was, laughing heartily at his inane jokes and revealing what she clearly thought was very personal to her, judging from the inner location of her art room. Take heed, he cautioned himself. This woman was no ordinary one. Moreover, she was a Foté whose father was a suspect in recent sinister events. Who knew whether the charm she put on was an attempt to have him wrapped around her finger, so to speak? Women were oddly attached to their fathers; this he had long concluded from the accounts of families in the register. Even his sister Maya would readily visit their father than she would their mother. If Aishe Foté was involved, it was unlikely that the Ispris would know nothing of it. Even if she was not complicit, if she was well aware, then the fact that she had chosen to do nothing was in itself a serious crime. But you have no proof! He stopped himself, surprised that he had let his thoughts run ahead of him. There was another reason why he could not afford to become attached − the matter of her safety. If Aishe Foté was innocent and others instead were behind the attacks, then he would unnecessarily expose her to harm. Like Ruki Sen’s wife and daughter, she could easily be hurt in this isolated place she called her home. Only sorrow and self-blame was at the end of the tunnel if he allowed his feelings to grow. No. This was a risk he could not afford. What if he was underestimating her, he wondered. After all, Maya’s account suggested that she was an excellent swordswoman with supernatural powers. Perhaps she could take care of herself. But Ruki Sen could take care of himself and he wound up murdered. Tired of the circular thinking, he firmly reminded himself that his mission as HN wasn’t to fall in love. Instead, it was strictly to right the many wrongs that plagued Lionea and love could only be an unwelcome distraction.
At that moment, an Aispris entered the room with a message for him, “My lord HN, a Leade, Rosi Lite, is here to see you. He claims he has something urgent to tell you.”
“Tell him I’ll be with him in a moment,” Yosi Sint replied.
Switching his gaze to Prisca, he said, “I have thoroughly enjoyed every moment spent together, but now I must be on my way. Perhaps we shall meet someday.”
“Likewise Yosi Sint. Please be safe. It is my understanding that the office of the HN can boast of the most enemies on this Island and beyond.”
“So I’ve been told. But I’ll be fine.” Resisting the urge to kiss her goodbye, he turned around and left her studio.
Oracion had traveled a great distance through space and time, only to find she was unable to locate the Ispris’ residence. Exhausted, she found herself hoping that some stray insect would inflict some sudden pain on her deserted body, forcing her back into her shell. The thought of traveling back disheartened her, especially because she had seen nothing useful. This wasn’t the first time she had been blinded by the Ispris. There was something about the Ispris that precluded Oracion from seeing things around her when she was in mind-travel form. Flustered, she decided to make her way back. Moving at great speed, she felt her body weaken as she raced back to her room. She would have to eat as soon as she returned, lest she would faint.
Firmly back within her body, she slowly opened her bloodshot eyes while gasping for breath in a manner like unto a person being suffocated. The man, understanding what was going on, quickly gave her water to drink followed by a large chunk of bread. It took quite some time but she eventually gained her strength and sat up to speak.
“So, what did you see?” the man asked eagerly.
“Stev Even and hi
s Studes attempted to attack the HN, but were suddenly ambushed by unknown men.”
“Interesting. Who were these men and from whence did they come?”
“You forget I am not omniscient. I only witnessed as Stev and his men fled the bush due to the onslaught, so I cannot say for sure who the men were or what they wanted.”
“What about the Ispris? Was Yosi Sint with her as we thought he would be?”
“I could not see them. Something about her makes her immediate environment entirely non-existent to me when I am in mind travel.”
“I see. It seems that although you possess the Rangelica, the Ispris seems to hold some special powers because she was born by one who also possessed it. Perhaps she somehow obliviously exudes an influence that opposes that which comes from the Rangelica.”
“She is not the only one. It’s same with the Ispri. That is why I never really knew of Yosi’s existence all while he was in the temple.”
“I understand. Trying harder would likely yield no meaningful results. Perhaps the only way to put an end to their interference is to put an end to their lives.”
Yosi Sint walked out to meet Rosi Lite anxiously waiting. Closely following behind was the Ispris who was somewhat sad to see Yosi leave at a time when she was enjoying herself the most.
“Lord HN,” Rosi began. “Apologies for interrupting. Though you may not have realized it, you barely missed an attack on your life.”
Not entirely surprised, he replied, “Does this have anything to do with the dead horses on Cemetery Street?”
“Dead horses, I saw no such thing there.”
Deciding not to speak of what he saw in presence of the Ispris, he motioned for Rosi to continue.
“Some men were waiting to waylay you as you returned from the Ice Hall. Zach was able to detect their plans and dispatch a throng of pigeons to warn you. Did you receive them?”
“No. Perhaps I was long gone before the men and pigeons arrived.”
“Why didn’t you return to the Helesp immediately then?”
Thinking it would be rude to once again withhold information in front of Prisca, Yosi explained, “I happened to see some dead horses and men littered on the street as I was making my way to the Ice Hall. The heads of the men were impaled by Spyinme knives but there was no sign of the Spyinme who killed them.”
“How many dead horses did you see?” interjected the Ispris. “According to the Aispris at the gate, three Spyinmes came to deliver the message of your coming.”
“There were three horses. Ideally, I should have run into the Spyinmes on my way here.”
“Instead, you ran into their dead horses and possibly two of the men who attacked them. There may have been more attackers, seeing as the Spyinmes are nowhere to be found,” the Ispris reasoned.
“A kidnap then?” ventured Rosi Lite
“Possibly. Could it have been the men who were sent to ambush you?” the Ispris asked.
“The attack happened before I arrived on Cemetery Street. That must mean a different set of men attacked them,” Yosi replied.
“Then these men had other motives. Slavers?”
“I doubt that. Slavery is prohibited on this island. It seems there is more to this than I initially thought. A good thing I preserved the bodies of the men. Each had a black-star tattoo on the upper arm.”
“Black-star? I had no idea that organized crime still had its roots on this Island,” the Ispris replied wide-eyed.
“What do you know of the tattoo?” asked Yosi.
“Nothing much, other than that the men who bear it seem to belong to a large organization of criminals: rapists, pirates, assassins, hired hands, you name it. Their reach extends even to the Nations to the East and West. Despite Norwaland’s strict border control, I have also heard that they operate there.”
Making a mental note to inquire about how the Ispris knew so much of such worldly matters, Yosi surmised, “It means that these men were hired. That makes it quite difficult to get to the root of this.”
“I am worried for you,” Prisca said in a soft voice. “So many unpleasant things seem to be taking place in Lionea. It appears the political games are becoming even more deadly.”
“My task is simple: to put an end to this.”
“That makes you an even more likely target. Promise me you will exercise caution.”
“I promise,” Yosi said with a longing smile. “Allow me leave my chariot behind, lest it delays me. I will ride one of the horses instead and come back for it at a later time.”
The exchange was not lost on Rosi, who wondered how the sudden fondness between the two had developed. “Lord HN,” he hesitantly added. “We should be on our way if you still intend to meet other appointments.”
Yosi Sint nodded before bidding the Ispris goodbye. He then began for his horse, Rosi following closely behind. As they departed, the Ispris called out after them, “I advise that you take an alternative route. Just to be safe!”
Nodding only, Yosi and Rosi made their way out of the Ispris’ residence.
Julya Rose awoke to mind-numbing pain on her left foot. Making an attempt to touch it, she realized her hands were chained to what seemed to be walls made of stone. Where am I? What is this place? As she tried to guess what must have happened, the searing pain struck her again, almost knocking her unconscious. Feeling for her left foot with her right, she felt the shock of her life−there was no foot on her left leg! That explained the pain. She surmised this had to be a dream; a cruel prank. How had she ended up like this? Tears of pain and outrage trickled down her face as she realized that she was now crippled. Who could have done this to her? Again, the pain struck, this time literally leaving her dizzy.
After the dose of pain subsided, giving her a moment’s respite, Julya began to recollect events: riding from the Ispris residence, jumping off her horse, struggling with three men, who eventually got the better of her, therefore knocking her unconscious. She wondered what happened to her sisters. She had heard Surita shout, but could remember nothing of Ziri. I am being held captive, she reckoned. They had firmly bound her hands with chains; why, then, had they cut her foot off? What slaver would pay for a crippled girl? Questions she was sure she would get no answers to. Focusing intently now, she listened to the distant voices she heard outside. They seemed too far, for she could only make out a few words here and there. She heard the words ‘capture’ and ‘alive’ repeatedly, which probably confirmed that the perpetrators wanted her and her sisters alive. Had the others escaped? She hoped to the Almighty Spirit that they did. For it meant that in no time, a search for her would begin. Now a cripple, what use would they have for her when they found her? She would probably be released of her sworn service and paid a monthly stipend to help sustain her. That was not a life she wanted for herself, but what choice did she now have? She screamed suddenly as the full force of the pain in her left stub came upon her without mercy. So intense was it that she didn’t realize when she slowly drifted into unconsciousness…
The three men stood before the high priestess of the Nukamchi Icasa. She was livid that they had failed in their mission. Although they had argued that the one girl they had captured had to be worth something, the priestess was hearing none of it.
“My order was clear,” she fumed. “I ask for three, and you bring me one. Yet you demand pay.”
“To be clear, you do not give us orders. We receive them only from our regional lord. Your bargain was for the price of three. We bring you one, you pay us for one. Simple,” replied one of the men.
“Just one of them is as good as having none, you fools!”
“It is not our policy to apprise ourselves of why you requested our services. So do not think for a moment that we are concerned with how this affects your plans. All we ask for is our pay.”
“And all I ask for is your heads.”
“Careful, wench!” he spat. “Even one as powerful as you would dare not make an enemy of the Kawachi. Your existence will be wipe
d off the−”
A knife protruded from the back of his mouth, stunning him. In the brief seconds before he died, he realized he had been stabbed from the back of his head by one of her guards. This woman had cursed herself to the grave without knowing it…
His men had suffered the same fate. The high priestess was done with mediocre agents who failed with excuses. To go on to threaten her after such humiliating failure was an affront she could not tolerate. Let the Kawachi leader come after her, she thought. She would expose his organization for the failures they were. Her assistant, on the other hand, didn’t quite agree. They had already waited years to reach the final stages of their plan. Why incur the wrath of the Kawachi now? He knew that to speak out of turn would earn him the same fate, so he simply kept his thoughts to himself.
“What do you suppose we’ll see in that girl’s head now?” The high priestess asked rhetorically. “Without the others, whatever we see won’t make a bit of sense.”
“We’ll never know if we don’t at least try. It is a pity they have failed us like this,” he replied.
“Check on the girl. I realize that with her foot nicely chopped off, she can never escape, even with her Spyinme training. Still, I want her checked upon every hour.”
“Your command!” replied her assistant as he left to do her bidding.
She was too tired to begin the extractive process now. She decided to leave it for the morrow. The sparse information she expected to find was hardly worth the toll it would take on both of them. Death was the better option for the girl, she knew. To have one’s mind damaged just for information that could prove useless was utterly depressing as it was futile.
