by Pedro Urvi
“Don’t move,” said Hartz. He was holding Komir’s head with both hands as he examined the bloody wound on the young man’s head. Komir was sitting on a small wooden stool, complaining at his friend’s insistence on trying to cure him.
“I’m telling you, it’s nothing, I’m all right,” he said as he tried to push Hartz away.
“No way, little one, you have a good gash and it’s deep enough to need stitches, right away.” Hartz grasped his head firmly.
“Do what he says,” said Kayti, who was bringing the wounded Norriel a glass of wine.
“All right, let me have a sip of wine, then you can stitch the wound if you insist.” Komir took the wine from the smiling redhead.
Lindaro walked into the room with a look of worry on his face.
“I don’t understand how something like this could have happened. It’s unheard-of!” he said. He handed Hartz a curved needle and thread to stitch the gash. “I’m devastated. In our own city, no less! Just a few feet away from the Temple! I’d always thought we lived in a safe, peaceful place. It’s awful! Really, the more I think about it the less I understand! Who could do a thing like this?”
“I’ll need a bowl of water to bathe the wound and some cloths,” said Hartz.
“Of course,” said Lindaro, and left the room to fetch them.
“Thank goodness your head is harder than rock, otherwise you wouldn’t have lived to tell the story,” said Hartz.
“Look who’s talking!” replied Komir. “Your head is like granite!” He took a swig of the watered wine.
“You haven’t told us how you managed to escape, Komir,” said Kayti. “How did you deal with all of them? There were too many, even for a skilled warrior like you. You should be dead, and instead of that all you have is a nasty gash on your head.” There was a touch of suspicion in her voice.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I killed them. I’m alive and they’re not. That’s all that matters.” The Norriel looked at his friend. In his eyes he could see that Hartz knew what had really happened, that this mysterious energy which lived inside Komir had awakened like a beast from the abyss without his knowing why or how. But it had saved his life.
“Let him be, Kayti. If Komir says he dealt with them, then they’re dead. How he did it is none of our business.”
“Well, it seems strange that he won’t tell us more. It must have been a really exceptional fight if he managed to survive against so many attackers. What happened? Why don’t you want us to know?”
“My head hurts too much for so many questions. Leave me alone,” said Komir.
“Leave it, Kayti. The good news is he survived that treacherous ambush. And that’s that!”
Komir was thankful for his friend’s defense. He knew that Hartz was aware of how he hated the thing which made him different, the thing which set him apart from his peers. Luckily Hartz understood him and never pressed him for details. Even after that fateful and public incident during the Ceremony of the Bear he had not mentioned it, nor would he ever. He respected his friend’s privacy, his secret. He was the best of friends…
The white-armored warrior took off her gauntlets and left them on the table.
“We were attacked simultaneously,” she said. “That requires coordination, means, a plan and a brain behind the whole operation.” She sat down at the table and poured herself a glass of wine.
“And they were pretty deft,” added Hartz.
“Yes, they were either mercenaries, or hired soldiers, “said Komir. “They knew what they were doing. They weren’t simple ruffians from the back streets.”
“An attack like this, with two groups, carried out almost simultaneously, has to have been planned and meditated at length,” said Kayti. “They wanted us dead, all three of us.”
“Why would anyone want to kill us?” said Hartz. “We’re new to the city, and we haven’t got into any trouble since we arrived, or at least none that matters.”
“I can only think it’s something to do with the Ilenian temple we found,” said Kayti. She poured herself more wine.
“It doesn’t make sense, nobody knows we found it,” said Komir, shaking his head.
“Nobody? Are you sure of that? Several members of the Temple of Light know…” said Kayti.
“Do you think they would talk?” asked Hartz uneasily.
“Maybe,” said Kayti. “After all, even men of faith have their weaknesses, even the fleshly kind…”
“Absolutely not!” protested Lindaro. He was just coming back with a jug of water, an old metal washbasin, some cloths and a piece of soap. “Nobody in the temple has mentioned anything about the discovery. The study of the Ilenian underground temple is being carried out in the utmost secrecy. I can vouch for my brother-priests, each and every one of them. I’ve known them for years, and many a hardship we’ve shared. They’re devout, and their character is upright. They wouldn’t stoop to treason.”
“I agree with Lindaro,” said Hartz, taking the jug of water from the priest and beginning to clean Komir’s head-wound. The washed-out blood dripped down the injured man’s shoulders, forming a puddle on the floor.
“If it’s nothing to do with the temple and the treasures we’ve found, what could be the reason for the attack?” asked Kayti.
Lindaro sat down beside her. “It must have something to do with your past actions,” he said.
Hartz raised his eyes from Komir’s wound and fixed them on Kayti. He tried to make her feel uncomfortable so as to make her talk about what he was sure she was hiding from them. But the redhead did not even flinch. She remained quiet, with a defiant, haughty expression on her face.
“Don’t look at me with that troll face,” she scolded.
“Troll? Me?” Hartz sounded offended. “And… what the hell is a troll?”
Kayti, taken by surprise, began to laugh heartily.
Lindaro could not help laughing too. “A troll is a huge, hairy monster, wild and savage” he explained, “vaguely human in shape but really more like an ape because of its long arms, its muscular torso and the way it runs. The beast usually has long brown hair, huge tusks and claws, and it’s said it has the strength of four men. It’s very dangerous.”
“Oh… I’d never heard of them. There aren’t any in the highlands …” said Hartz, a little embarrassed.
“That’s not surprising,” Lindaro went on. “They’ve been exterminated in most of the civilized lands. But Tremia is an enormous continent, and parts of it are still wild and unexplored. They still inhabit hidden places, far away from men, along with other nightmarish creatures.”
“You mean I could get to see one?” said Hartz, suddenly alive with excitement.
“Yes, my dear friend, although I wouldn’t advise it. It’s a cruel wild beast and it would dismember you. I wouldn’t recommend that you go looking for other creatures either, like the giant man-eating spider, the titanic king scorpion or any other horrors from the deep.”
“Well, now I want to see a troll!” said Hartz with conviction.
Kayti shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“Are you going to stitch up my head or let me bleed to death?” Komir asked his friend.
“I’m going to give you a very pretty scar, don’t you worry,” Hartz assured him. He had regained his usual good humor.
“The attack… it was ordered. There’s a price on our heads,” said Komir gravely.
“What? A price on your heads?” repeated Lindaro uneasily. “How do you know?”
“The leader of the group which attacked me thought I was finished, and he told me. Someone had put a price on our heads, someone called Lotas.”
“Lotas the Ruthless?” said Lindaro in a trembling voice.
“Do you know him?” Komir was surprised.
“Not really, no. But I’ve heard of him… He’s one of the biggest smugglers of the lower parts of town. From what I’ve heard he controls all the contraband of the port. He’s said to be a very dangerous, unscrupulou
s man. He’d sell his own mother to the Nocean slave-traders, pardon my bluntness.”
“Well, the men who attacked me were his men, that much I know.”
“Are you sure?” said Hartz, completing another stitch on his friend’s head.
“Yes,” Komir said. “I am.” He took another swig of wine to help dull the headache which had begun to torment him.
“Stay still,” said Hartz.
“I don’t understand,” said Lindaro. Why would they want you dead?”
“I think it’s more a question of who wants us dead,” said Hartz as he made another stitch.
“I don’t see how anyone could have anything against two recently-arrived Norriel,” said Lindaro. He came closer and examined the stitches on Komir’s head. “I don’t see how it could be anything to do with the discovery of the Ilenian Temple either. I’m convinced that nobody else knows of its existence yet. Which only leaves us with one question.” He looked towards Kayti.
“Is there anything you wish to tell us?” asked Hartz forcefully. He left the needle on the table and looked at the young redhead, who was calmly pouring herself more wine.
She raised her glass in a toast and said reproachfully, “Funny that in a room full of men, the only person who gets accused is a woman.”
“Don’t evade the question, Kayti,” said Komir threateningly. “My head hurts too much for arguments. If you know anything about this attempt on our lives you’d better start talking.”
“I’ve already told Hartz, I’m not hiding anything and I had nothing to do with this attack. If you want to believe me, that’s fine! Otherwise I’ll go on my way alone, in peace!”
“Let me remind you, when we met they were already trying to kill you and your brothers in arms. It stands to reason that this attack might be related to that one. And come to think of it, you never explained why you were attacked in the first place,” said Komir, holding his head. The pain was killing him.
“For the umpteenth time, I don’t know why they attacked us, and I had nothing to do with this last attempt!”
A tense silence fell in the room. None of them moved or said a word, afraid that all the accumulated anger and tension might explode violently in the small cell, burning them all to ashes.
Komir took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“These arguments aren’t helping us. We need answers, and we need them soon. I don’t want to stay in this city any longer than necessary. All these complications are doing nothing but delay my own quest. I don’t know why we’re tangled up in all this, but we must find out and I must go on. Lindaro, did your Brothers manage to decipher the meaning of the writing we found on the tomb of the King of the Lost Civilization?”
“I’m sorry, Komir… all our attempts at deciphering their language are leading us nowhere. I’m afraid that it’s going to take an enormous effort on the part of our specialists in linguistics. It will take a while to see results…”
Komir frowned. “How long are we talking about, priest?”
“To be honest, I don’t think they’ll be able to interpret much during the next few months. Maybe even years… It all depends on the complexity of the language, the symbols and the material we find in the temple itself.”
“Damnation! I don’t want to spend years sitting here doing nothing!”
“Why such a hurry to understand the language of the Ancients?” Lindaro asked. He sounded rather taken aback.
“Because it’s the only clue I have. The murderers who came for me did it for a reason, and that has something to do with my mother’s medallion. I’m so sure of that I’d put my hand in the fire. It’s the only out-of-the-ordinary object my parents possessed. What does Kayti call them? Ah yes, Objects of Power. Why would my mother have a medallion from any lost civilization? It doesn’t make sense for a humble Norriel couple in the highlands to have a thing like that in their possession. If we add that to my mysterious origin… Think about it: my parents never told me where I came from or how I came to be in their care, but I do know I was entrusted to them as a baby. There has to be some link between these odd facts, don’t you think?”
“Then you believe that’s the reason why you were attacked in your homeland?” said Lindaro.
“I’m certain. They wanted to kill me and it has something to do with this medallion my family kept. Coincidences like that don’t happen very often. I must have come to my parents’ home as a baby, with the medallion. That would explain why my mother had it and why those strangers attacked us. It has to be connected, it’s the only explanation. I’ve thought about it a thousand times, looking for motives and reasons and clues. There’s a connection, I’m sure of it!”
“I see,” said Lindaro. “Then do you think it’s you they’re looking for, or the medallion? Remember, the medallion was the key to finding the temple and opening the doors to the crypt.”
“I don’t know, perhaps both. How can I tell? I feel we’re not getting anywhere, and I still have no idea where the culprits might be. We have to take action.”
“Why don’t we simply wait until they appear again, then capture one and interrogate him?” said Hartz, finishing his glass of wine.
“I agree with that strategy,” said Lindaro. “Better wait for them in a safe place and try to find out what they want from you.” He went to the window as he said this and looked out into the darkness.
“I don’t agree. I’m with Komir in this,” said Kayti. “If we find out what it is they’re looking for, we’ll be ahead of them. Then when they come, sooner or later, we’ll have the advantage. I don’t like the idea of waiting until they come one night and cut our throats in our sleep…”
Hartz lowered his enormous body into one of the tiny chairs. “I’ll do whatever you say, Komir, you know that.”
The four of them remained silent for a moment, weighing the odds, until Kayti broke the silence in a soft voice.
“Hmmm… Perhaps we already have what they’re looking for…”
“What do you mean?” asked Komir.
“The Ilenian King’s sword. It’s no ordinary sword, it has power. A very valuable, ancient power.”
“Power?” said Lindaro, interested. “What kind of power?”
“A strange, dangerous one. I’d say it was forged with several spells. Powerful spells for whoever wields it,” said the warrior woman.
“Could you explain that?” asked Lindaro. “What’s all this about powerful spells in a sword? Could it be bewitched?”
Kayti turned to look into Hartz’s eyes. With a nod she motioned him to tell the story of what had happened in the ambush they had fallen into. Hartz took a sip of wine and slowly narrated the events. He explained in detail about the awakening of the sword, the feelings and energy unleashed in him, the communication which had sprung up between him and the weapon and how powerful he had felt with it in his hand.
“Unbelievable!” exclaimed Lindaro. “It’s amazing, a weapon of power! They were believed extinct. Only in certain very ancient volumes can you find references to those weapons, books which tell of the deeds of heroes in the distant past. They’re considered nothing more than legends and exaggerations, beautifully-wrought stories to raise the people’s spirits. And you’re telling me they really do exist?” He was so excited he could not stand still.
“Don’t get so excited, priest, the sword is mine and you’re not going to take it away under any circumstances,” Hartz warned him, looking very serious.
“But we should study it, analyze it to find out its secrets! Think of what we could learn, and the good it could bring…”
“And the evil,” warned Kayti. “Think of the evil it might do if it fell into evil hands. Let me remind you that you’re on the verge of a war with your neighbors in the south, the Nocean Empire. If their Sorcerers should get hold of it… if someone with power wielded it…”
“I understand what you mean, but it’ll be safe here. We’ll hide it in the Temple and protect it.”
“A handful
of defenseless priests? What can you protect?” boomed Hartz. “This sword is mine and it’s going to stay with me! And if somebody wants to take it away from me I’ll crush his skull! Is that clear enough?”
“I won’t dare try,” said Lindaro, backing up to the window in the face of the big Norriel’s outburst.
“Do you believe they’re looking for the sword, Kayti?” asked Komir.
“It’s possible. The sword, or maybe some other object that’s even more powerful. We don’t really know what else was in the temple, or if there’s more than one temple with objects of power. And if that’s the case and there are more hidden temples, they might not be looking for the sword but for something more powerful still. Something that could sway the result of a battle, or even conquer whole kingdoms for whoever wields it…”
Komir put his hand on his chest; under his doublet hung the medallion which had saved his life. He thought about revealing that mystery to his friends, but he would have to explain too many things, some of them quite unnerving. It was not the time or the place to reveal his power and its connection with the Ilenian medallion. He decided to keep the secret for the moment.
“Our Order, the Custodial Brotherhood, has proof of the existence of such objects in the private archive of our fortress.”
“Private archive?” said Lindaro gleefully, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Fascinating! I’d love to visit it, it would be fantastic. Has any information been compiled about the objects?”
“We have descriptions and even sketches of several weapons of power. Unfortunately most of them disappeared mysteriously in ancient times. But they existed, and some have been recovered by our Order. The main function of the Brotherhood, following the designs of Zuline, the Custodian Lady, Patroness of the Order and founder, is to watch that these objects don’t fall into the wrong hands, so that the balance between good and evil doesn’t tilt towards the dark side. Zuline was the first person to find an Object of Power, by accident. It was a ring with an unknown gem which had the power to heal non-lethal illnesses and injuries. That jewel and the good she could do with it impressed her greatly. So much so that she decided to devote her life to finding other objects with similar blessings. Over time other people joined her with the same aim, and she founded the Custodial Brotherhood.”
