by Jon F. Merz
Miyama’s face appeared down by his feet, above him on the cliff. “You are now suspended upside down over a cliff in the middle of a winter storm. That is what your awareness will tell you. It will no doubt also tell you that you are freezing to death, that you will be smashed against the mountain and die a horrible death.”
Ran’s teeth chattered so much he could only nod.
Miyama smiled. “Your task on this fine day is to shut your awareness off. To close out the distractions of reality and instead focus inwardly on your true essence. Find your hara. Find your inner peace. When you do so, the limits of perceived reality will fall away, allowing you to do things that you have never even imagined.”
Miyama’s face disappeared.
Ran felt a flood of panic sweep over him. “Wait! Where are you going?”
Miyama’s face reappeared, still wearing a big smile. “Where am I going? I’m going inside. It’s freezing out here.” His face vanished, leaving Ran dangling over the cliff.
A blast of wind buffeted him against the rocks, and Ran screamed for Miyama to come back. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to deal with this task now. He wanted to be back inside, where it was warm and cozy. Ran wanted to be anywhere but where he was.
But that was his reality.
His eyes stung and his head pounded as more blood flowed into it from his feet. What was the point of hanging him upside down? Couldn’t they have just as easily let him sit in the snow? He was shivering uncontrollably now, and each shiver seemed to send him closer to the side of the mountain when the wind blew.
What if Miyama was wrong? What if the rope broke? Ran risked a glance down and knew that from this peak to the valley floor was at least an eight hundred foot drop. He’d be smashed to bits on the rocks all the way down. More panic assailed him, and Ran felt his muscles tightening under the strain of thinking he was about to die.
Damn them all, thought Ran. Damn the Nine Daggers to hell for putting him through this: Anger made his heart beat faster. His face felt flushed, but not from the warmth of his inner self; from the rage he felt boiling in his veins. He’d do this damned task just to prove them wrong. They’d pull him up and see that he’d nearly frozen to death and still hadn’t been able to find his hara. As soon as they did, Ran would lash out. He’d scream at them and tell them they were all crazy. Then he’d leave. Make his own way in the world. He didn’t need them anymore.
Bastards.
Ran imagined what it would be like to be sitting in front of a blazing fire right then. Feeling the warmth of the flames licking at his face, making him sweat. He saw himself seated before a blazing hearth that throbbed as the flames danced in front of his eyes. With each new flame that sprouted up, Ran felt a throb in his lower belly. It was almost as if a pulsing energy resided there. Slowly, as he recognized the pulse, it spread through his body. Slowly at first and then more rapidly. From his stomach it spread up and down, eventually reaching his furthest extremities.
Ran forgot about the wind. He forgot about the snow. And he even forgot about the fact that he was dangling off the side of a mountain. He lost himself inside of his being.
Without giving it much thought, Ran reached up toward his feet for the rope that secured him. Getting his hands around the rope, he pulled himself up, back toward the cliff. The muscles in his arms strained. Sweat cascaded down his face as he pulled himself ever closer to the top of the cliff. Ran forgot about everything except for the goal of reaching the cliff. He pulled harder and harder until he at last scrambled over the lip and stood once more atop the cliff.
Ran untied his feet and then his hands. He stood there in the swirling blizzard and smiled.
Sweating.
Miyama stood there as well. Smiling.
“Ran!”
He blinked. The frozen mountaintop in Gakur vanished. Ran stood next to Kuva again.
“Where the hell did you go?” demanded Kuva. “It was like one moment you were here and the next you were off somewhere else. You just kept walking.”
“Sorry,” said Ran. “I was just remembering something.”
“Must have been some memory,” said Kuva. “You’ve been walking for hours like that.”
“Hours?”
Kuva nodded up ahead. “Looks like we’re almost there, doesn’t it?”
Ran looked. The mountains that had been farther away only a short time ago now rose before them. Huge. Ominous.
They could swallow this entire valley, thought Ran. And us along with it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“They don’t expect us to climb that, do they?” Kuva nodded at one of the largest mountains ahead of the convoy. “There’s no way we can get up that. I’m exhausted and starving. We’d die before we got even halfway up that damned thing.”
One of the Mung guards strode toward Kuva brandishing a whip. “You keep your mouth shut. Slaves aren’t permitted to speak.”
Kuva growled at the guard. “You’d do well to stay clear of me, friend. I already don’t like you. Chains or not, I’ll smash your skull to bits and feast on what little brains the gods saw fit to gift you with.”
A smile broke out on the guard’s face, and he nodded. “Very well, have it your way.” He reared back and prepared to unleash the whip on Kuva.
“Stop.”
Ran heard Iqban’s voice and turned. The leader of the Mung slavers trotted over. He glanced at the guard. “I don’t need them showing up battered and abused. It lowers the price I can get for them if they look damaged.”
“But sir—”
“But nothing. Put that away and resume your duties. If the big one gives you any trouble, simply attach a chain about his neck and fasten it to the back of a horse.” He eyed Kuva. “Then startle the horse. I imagine his neck will break before it gallops a hundred yards.”
Iqban kept his gaze fastened on Kuva. “Now, with that said, we’re not going to have any more trouble from you, are we?”
Kuva frowned. “I only asked how you expected us to climb that mountain when we’ve hardly been fed and are exhausted from the forced march.”
Iqban nodded. “Slaves aren’t permitted to speak. Remember that. However, to answer your question: I don’t expect you to climb that mountain at all.”
“We’re heading right for it,” said Ran. “How else are we to get past it?”
“The mountain is our destination,” said Iqban. “Now, before I grow weary of your questions, close your mouths and keep them that way. You have arrived at the place where you will be sold. The last thing I need are noisy and unruly slaves. I’d rather kill you than risk you harming my reputation.” He turned his horse and trotted away, leaving Ran and Kuva behind.
“Well, that went well,” said Kuva.
Ran smirked. “Are you deliberately trying to get into trouble?”
“I’m trying to find out information,” said Kuva. “So when I make my escape, I’ll have an idea of where we are.”
“When we escape,” said Ran. “You’ll need some help getting out of these cuffs, unless you intend to smash them on the rocks or something.”
“Can you pick the lock?”
Ran nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Then why haven’t we escaped already?”
“Because I think someone I know is trapped in this mountain. And I intend to rescue her before I escape.” Ran shrugged. “Plus, if we try to escape right now, while we’re under heavy guard, there’s more chance that Iqban’s guards will kill us. Once we’re sold, I would think Iqban will be off to raid again. It might actually be easier to escape once we’re inside.”
Kuva frowned. “That’s another assumption if ever I heard one, my friend.”
“I’m learning that a lot of life is about assumptions,” said Ran. “And hoping you’re not making the wrong ones.” He stared up at the mountain before them and wondered if he was putting himself and Kuva in even more danger. Then again, the clan had wanted him to come here in the first place. So even though Ran disliked t
he idea of deliberately placing himself in captivity inside of the mountain, it would enable him to possibly gather information. Was his new master in league with the forces beyond the mountains that Kan-Gul had said were planning to invade the south?
Ran watched as Iqban rode back and forth along the convoy. The two remaining merchants struggled to keep walking, and Iqban didn’t hesitate to have the guards prod them along. The wagons clattered over rocks, their wheels taking a beating on the uneven terrain. But Iqban seemed unfazed by the effect on the wagons. “We need to reach the entrance before last light. Everyone move!”
Entrance? Ran frowned. Was there some hidden valley through which they would pass? Would it lead them to beyond the mountains? Snow began to fall as the questions plagued his mind. Kuva muttered something unpleasant as the first flakes struck his head. Ran knew the cold had dogged the big man’s heels since they’d been on the journey north. Despite Ran trying to help him accept the weather, Kuva had suffered.
“We’ll be warm soon,” said Ran as Iqban rode past them. “Hang in there a little while more.”
“I will,” said Kuva. “If only to kill every last one of these bastards.”
They walked another two miles, the snow piling up around their feet as they did so. Kuva started shivering uncontrollably, and Ran worried that the weather would bring the big man down for good. Surely Iqban didn’t expect them to continue walking for much longer, did he?
In answer, Iqban drew up to a huge towering boulder that stood twice as tall as he did on his horse. He put his hand into the air and called a halt to their progression. Then he slid down from his saddle and walked toward the boulder. Placing his hand on a small indentation that Ran could scarcely see, he pressed inward and turned his hand.
The ground grumbled in response, bubbling up from somewhere beneath their feet.
“What madness is this?” said Kuva. “It sounds like the mountain intends to swallow us whole.”
“You may be right,” said Ran. “Look.”
The boulder shuddered now, almost appearing to rattle against the side of the mountain. As it did so, cracks showed along its edges, and then the entire stone slowly moved to the side, giving the appearance of a mountain yawning. The opening seemed large enough for two horses to enter abreast of each other. Iqban smiled as the rock finished moving, and he glanced back toward the convoy.
“We will now proceed.”
“Never thought I’d be so happy to hear those words,” said Kuva. “No idea what lies inside that mountain, but it can’t be any worse than staying out here in another blizzard.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Ran. “I can think of many bad things far worse than being in a snowstorm. And this mountain doesn’t look all that hospitable.”
They moved forward, filing into the maw before them. Darkness surrounded them, and as soon as they were all inside, they heard the tremendous grumbling of the boulder sliding back into place. Slowly but surely the last vestiges of daylight vanished as the rock moved back into its closed position, sealing them all inside the mountain.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, without warning, a series of torches sprang to life, emanating a weird blue flame that crackled as they burned. They illuminated the tunnel and seemed to stretch far off into the distance, gradually sloping downward as they proceeded.
“Blue fire?” asked Kuva. “Never heard of such a thing.”
“Hopefully it’s not some sort of magic,” said Ran. “I’ve had enough of dealing with sorcery for a while. I could very much do without it for the rest of my life.”
“Shut your mouths,” growled a guard. “No one is permitted to speak from here on out.”
Iqban led his horse and waved for the convoy to proceed.
Ran looked around, but could determine very little from his immediate surroundings. They saw no guards apart from those in Iqban’s raiding party. The blue flames of the torches flickered and danced the same way real fire did. And the rock walls looked as though they’d been hewn by hand, no doubt by slave labor if Iqban had been supplying the man who owned this place with slaves as appeared to be the case.
They walked for half a mile before coming to rest before a large circular iron door set into the rock wall. Once again, the door was large enough to permit entry to men riding horses, and an intricate alphabet was etched across the iron. But Ran could read none of it. As far as he could tell, the script was something unique. He glanced at Kuva, prepared to ask him if he’d ever seen anything like it, but a warning look from the guard told him that would not be a wise idea.
Iqban rapped on the door three times, the knocks echoing back down the tunnel they’d just traversed. They waited for several minutes, and then Ran felt a rush of air blow across his face as the iron door swung inward, allowing them passage.
The air smelled of sulfur, and Ran wrinkled his nose at the scent. But it was at least warmer than it had been in the tunnel. Kuva grinned, and Ran suspected his friend was relieved to be out of the weather.
Iqban led them through, and, as soon as the convoy was inside, the door swung shut. More torches illuminated the area, and this time Ran saw guards. They were all equipped with spears, swords, and half shields that covered their lower arms. Their armor was uniformly plate, and the expressions on their faces looked fierce. One of them approached Iqban and clasped his hand.
“It is good to see you again.”
Iqban smiled. “Mithrus. It is my pleasure to inform you that we have much to sell the king. Is he willing to see us now?”
The guard he spoke to, Mithrus, appeared to be in command. He nodded. “We’ve been expecting you.” He looked down the line of the convoy. “Although I must admit I expected you to have far more slaves with you. Did you run into trouble?”
Iqban grunted. “The caravan we attacked had with them a better security company than I expected. They cost me a great deal of my men. Fortunately, I was able to take two of them alive.”
“I count four,” said Mithrus. “Who are the other two?”
“Merchants,” spat Iqban. “Hardly worth the effort, I know. But they may yet serve some purpose that Zal can fathom.”
Mithrus grinned. “In other words, you might be able to squeeze a few more pieces of gold out of him for your trouble.”
Iqban shrugged. “I brought you a great many slaves the last time I was here. Not every outing can be as fruitful as that one was.”
“Indeed,” said Mithrus. “Only a fool expects to wake every day to sunshine.” He nodded again. “Very well, let us get you situated, and then I will inform the king that he may come and peruse your offerings.”
“Excellent,” said Iqban. “The journey has been long this time, and I am famished. My men could do with a good meal as well, if that is possible.”
“All things are possible for friends of Zal. In any event, I would not expect to leave for several days. The storms are raging now, and trying to leave would be foolish. Stay here and regather your strength. I am certain Zal will continue to have a great need for more slaves.”
Iqban smiled. “That may not be a bad idea. But we will see what Zal says first, yes? It would be improper of me to presume to stay here without his offering it first.”
Mithrus turned and led them deeper into the mountain. The mountain guards now surrounded the convoy as well as those of Iqban’s raider force. The men seemed to know each other, and Ran caught snippets of conversation as they talked. From what he could gather, Iqban brought slaves to the mountain as much as twice a month. Over the course of the last year, he had sold the king—Zal, Ran assumed—nearly one thousand slaves. But for what purpose?
The passageway snaked around to the left and led them down at a deeper angle. As they walked, Ran noted that there were guard stations at intervals along the route, typically manned by two guards. He filed the information away and kept observing as much as he could while he walked next to Kuva.
For his part, the big man seemed relaxed and comfortable now. That�
�s good, thought Ran. He would need Kuva to help him escape. Having a brute he could count on for sheer strength and intimidation would be valuable when confronting the number of guards that seemed to be stationed here.
The convoy drew to a stop as the passage leveled out in a grand cavern that stretched for two hundred feet in any direction. Mithrus motioned for his guards to fall back away from the convoy, and as they did, Iqban’s men positioned the wagons and goods they had stolen from Yasseh’s caravan for better viewing.
“You two,” growled a guard. “Stand over there.” He pointed toward a small wooden platform elevated above the ground by perhaps three feet. Ran and Kuva moved over, shuffling with the chains, and managed to get to the top.
The guards led the two merchants over to another platform directly opposite to where Ran and Kuva stood. When all was ready, Iqban looked at Mithrus.
“How does it look?”
Mithrus laughed. “You’re asking my advice now?” He smiled. “I’m sure it will be fine.” He gestured for one of his guards to come over. “Go inform his majesty that Iqban is here with another convoy.”
The guard nodded once and then left down a passageway that branched off from the cavern.
“How goes progress?” asked Iqban.
Mithrus shrugged. “Fair. Not as fast as Zal would like, but then that’s the price of digging, I suppose. With all of this rock surrounding us, we have to make exceptions for certain inconveniences. Still, the last lot of slaves you brought us seem to be performing well. Granted it’s early yet and they haven’t been worked to nothing the way the others have. We’ll need many more replacements as those die off.”
“Indeed,” said Iqban. “And I shall be only too happy to supply them to you.”
“Just make sure you keep the numbers up. I don’t think Zal will be pleased with the few you have here. Possibly with the exception of those two. But he’ll grumble that you didn’t bring enough.”
“I know,” said Iqban. “I hope he likes the goods I brought him.”
