by Stas Borodin
“Hey!”
Hrianon leaned out of the boat and bent over me. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Can’t sleep,” I replied.
Like a cat, she slid to the floor and peered into my book. “Poetry?” She pouted. “I didn’t think that wizards ever read poetry.”
“My friend wrote this book,” I said. “His name is Anesh Amash.”
Hrianon shook her head. “I don’t read much poetry. Sorry.” She sighed. “A few months ago, all the books in our city were confiscated by the church and burned in the central square.”
“Damn!” I shuddered. “How could they do that?!”
“Master Astar said that books poison the mind.” Hrianon clenched her fists.
I set aside my book and gently touched her hand. The girl nodded.
“It is strange that I’ve never heard that name before,” I said.
Hrianon shrugged. “He was a travelling preacher before, and I heard him preach with my own ears. He told us to burn the old gods and destroy the churches. He told us that Mistar is the only true god.”
“And what about the townsfolk?” I asked. “What did they say?”
“They laughed and threw rotten eggs at him.” Hrianon frowned. “We were all so careless, so stupid!”
The girl’s face became distant and alien.
“So he took his revenge…”
“Yes,” she nodded. “I think so.”
For some time we sat in silence. Then Hrianon moved closer and leaned forward, almost touching my ear with her lips. “The alchemist’s diary that you gave me hides many interesting things,” she whispered. “Very dangerous things!”
“What things?” I asked in surprise.
“He invented a mysterious powder, which, he claims, is way stronger than any magic.”
“What do you mean?” I was intrigued.
“Can’t say,” Hrianon looked smug. “I have to try it myself first. The diary is written in Ancient Tevalian. I know the language, but the problem is that some words are missing from the modern vocabulary. I can only guess what ingredients he had in mind.”
“So, you want to be stronger than the wizards?” I smiled.
“No.” She shook her head. “I want my revenge.”
✽✽✽
Early the next morning we went to the city.
Like Paara, Gonkor was surrounded by a ring of high walls and massive imposing towers. The only difference was the colour of the stone. Black instead of white.
“Porsk stone!” Hrianon snorted. “Look, they filled all the gaps and breaks with red Gonkor granite.”
“Is that bad?” Ice looked at the polished walls with admiration.
“It compromises the wall’s integrity,” said Hrianon, biting on her thumbnail thoughtfully. “Porsk stone is much lighter. So, slabs of the same size will have a completely different weight. If you hit the wall in such a place, the upper plate will crush the lower one and the whole structure will crumble by itself.”
“Quiet, you two!” hissed Bevid. “Or someone will hit you in such a place…”
We crossed a deep and wide moat filled with water and entered a long, echoing corridor with dark loopholes on both sides.
“The moat is good,” said Hrianon. “It would be a serious obstacle for my siege towers and battering rams. I’d have to fill them first with sand and dirt, and that, boys, would be not an easy task!”
“Would you shut up!” Bevid hissed. “Or I’ll fill the moat with your bones!”
Hrianon didn’t bat an eyelid.
“The worst thing is this hall.” The girl lowered her voice a bit. “The defenders can shoot arrows through the loopholes and pour tar and boiling water on our heads. This gatehouse is a fucking death-trap!”
The guards inspected our cargo meticulously, and one of the pigeons almost bit a finger off when the poor fella risked patting the bird on the back.
A weak stream of merchants and artisans slowly moved past us. Their faces were blank and their carts half-empty.
“It seems that the simple folk are in no hurry to embrace the new god,” Bevid chuckled.
“Keep quiet!” Hrianon snapped. “Or the fucking noose will embrace you!”
Bevid snorted indignantly, and the girl, with the look of the victor, stalked on.
The streets were wide and empty. We saw soldiers with spears and dogs standing on every corner. The dogs were of a special Gonkor breed, with heavily scarred muzzles and cropped ears.
“They know the taste of human flesh.” Eimor nodded at the dogs. “Be careful when you pass by.”
“Nonsense!” Ice beamed. “Just look how adorable they are!” My friend pointed to a particularly loathsome beast, gnawing lazily on a bloody bone. “What a cutie! You know, my dad had a dog too. Year after year, our Lugo was voted the ugliest dog in the whole kingdom and took all the prizes for ugliness at the big fair in Pengo. No one, believe me, no one could look at him without having to puke!”
Hrianon livened up. “Your dad is a lucky man! Did they invite you to that fair too?”
Ice laughed. “Nah. The ugliest one in our family is my step brother Aspataden. I think he and Lugo are somehow related!”
Hrianon nodded. “Nice family you have!”
Ice stuck his tongue out at her.
The inn was almost empty, and the innkeeper greeted us like honoured guests.
“Master Em!” he cried. “I’m glad to see you still alive and kicking!”
“You know, I’m a hard nut to crack.” Eimor patted the innkeeper on the back. “This time I came with a whole family. Here is my wise grandfather Bevid, my lovely fiancée and two stupid nephews.”
Bevid and Hrianon opened their mouths, unable to utter a word. Ice and I laughed
The innkeeper laughed with us. “Don’t pull my leg, Em.” He wiped his eyes. “I know that your brother would never allow you to have a grandfather, nephews and especially a bride.”
Eimor smiled. “Master Ovayn was a royal spy once. A true legend!”
The inn owner folded his meaty hands on his voluminous belly and looked at us with affection. “You are gallant as ever, Master Em. You know how to make an old man blush!”
We were given a large room on the second floor, and Hrianon got a room of her own.
Eimor set the cages in a row by the window and fed the birds with grain. “For now you can relax, boys,” he said. “Ovayn is our man. I trust him with my life.”
✽✽✽
Ice woke me up early the following morning. “Get up, man, I’m starving!”
I was hungry too, so I quickly put my boots on and we went down to the dining hall.
“Where are Bevid and Eimor?” I looked around.
“Gone. Hrianon too. It was still dark when I heard her door bang,” said Ice. “She said she had a lot of friends to visit.”
“I’m worried about her,” I sighed. “Too bad she didn’t wait for us.”
“She’ll be okay. She’s a big girl.” Ice smiled.
“Big girl with a big mouth,” I nodded.
Ovayn brought us food. “I’m sorry, Master Wizards, this is all I have to offer,” he said, putting the plates on the table. “We can barely make ends meet lately…”
There was cold meat, bread, eggs and pickles. On top of that Ovayn poured us a large mug of dark Gonkor beer.
“Your beer is way better than Antragian,” said Ice.
“I didn’t know they brewed beer in Antraga,” Ovayn grinned. “Or are we talking about different kind of drink?”
“So, you’ve been to Antraga?” Ice inquired sourly.
“No, gods forbid!” The inn owner laughed. “However, I have heard a couple of stories about that blessed place.”
Ice peered into his mug. “Yes, but we still worship Orvad.”
The old man sat down on the bench next to us and dropped his hands to his knees. His face darkened at once. “We underestimated Astar.” He shook his head. “We should have cut his damn throat whil
e we had a chance!”
“It seems that you two are well acquainted,” I said.
“I knew him earlier,” nodded Ovayn, “in the days when he called himself the Mouth of Mistar.” The old man spat on the floor. “Since then he has visited every single island of the Inner Sea and fooled us all.” He sighed. “People say that in his wanderings, Astar met a powerful ally, a sorcerer who has helped him ever since. I don’t know if that’s true, but the fact is that now our half-mad beggar sits close to the king and whispers directly in his ear.”
“We’ve been to Dekt.” Ice looked up from his mug. “Do you know what happened there?”
“Yes, Master Ice,” nodded Ovayn. “And soon enough you’ll see what I mean. If you have anything connected to Orvad, please, leave it here with me.”
“Are you serious?” Ice snorted.
“Nowadays they have chopping blocks installed on every street corner,” Ovayn said. “But no heads to chop.”
The innkeeper took out an amulet depicting a closed eye.
“Fuck!” Ice jumped up from the table and drew an Orvad’s circle in front of him.
“Don’t be scared, Master Wizard, I’m not one of those,” said Ovayn. “But the streets could be very dangerous without this. I will get you amulets too.”
Chapter 4
We put the hideous amulets around our necks and left the inn. A few moments later, we were stopped by a bunch of young men dressed in white robes and holding freshly cut green branches in their hands. On top of their robes some of them were wearing leather aprons and they were armed with heavy hammers.
“Hello, brothers!” a young man greeted us with a pleasant smile. “Mistar has granted us a wonderful morning! Are you looking for a place to make your morning prayers?”
“Yes, we were just going to ask somebody,” I said.
“You are lucky.” The young man bowed politely. “We would be honoured to take you to the nearest temple.”
The young men surrounded us on all sides, and we had no choice but to follow them.
“Where are you from, my blessed brothers?” The man in white was smiling. “How long have you been under the gentle wings of Mistar?”
“We are merchants from Bit,” I said. This ever-smiling young man gave me the creeps, but I forced myself to smile back. “We have found Mistar only recently, and every day we learn a lot of new things.”
“Oh, I do not doubt it!” the young man exclaimed, waving his green branch. “It is so exciting to see new converts ready to fall upon the Father’s chest and kiss him with bloody lips!”
Ice tugged at my sleeve, his eyes widening.
I followed his glance and saw a mountain of skulls piled in the middle of the square and decorated with green branches.
“Before you enter the temple”—the young man stopped us in front of the open door—“you’ll have to purify yourselves.”
Our escort parted and we saw Orvad’s statue, its head buried deep under the ground.
“I don’t know if you do this on Itar—” the young man began.
“We are from Bit!” Ice interrupted him.
“Of course, from Bit.” The youth grinned. “I’ll show you how we do it in Gonkor!”
The young man pulled up his robe and pissed on the god’s statue. His example was followed by the whole company. Ice shrugged and dropped his pants too.
When my turn came, I followed my friend’s example, but no matter how much I strained, I could not squeeze out even a drop.
“What is it?” the youth asked in a unctuous voice. “Is it so hard to sprinkle the statue of the false god?”
I felt the men with the hammers moving behind my back.
“I can’t when everyone is watching,” I said. “Look!”
I pulled on my shirt collar and took the amulet out.
The young man examined the amulet carefully and nodded with respect. “You should have told us that you were converted by the Magister himself, for it is a great honour!”
“I did not know that I would be asked to piss in front of the whole city!” I blurted out.
The youth laughed, and the whole bunch, including the thugs with the hammers, laughed with him.
“Well, pissing is much more fun, but you can simply spit on it.” The young man nodded indulgently. “Any of your body fluids will do.”
I tried to swallow, but my throat felt dry. Ice looked at me and the air suddenly smelled of smoke.
“Wait!” I quickly bit on the inside of my cheek, sucked out a little bit of blood and spat. The bloody spittle landed right on the God’s hand.
“Bless you, brothers!” the whole company cried, and we were pushed into the dark bowels of the temple.
When my eyes had adjusted to the dim light, I could see the interior of the sanctuary clearly. The small circular room was almost empty, but its very centre was occupied by a small statue sitting on a high dais. The air was heavy with the smell of burning incense.
“I’m out of here!” whispered Ice.
“I want to search the place first,” I said. “We need answers, remember?”
“Well, I don’t,” Ice muttered. “For I wasn’t asking.”
I took a step towards the statue and froze in terror. It was not an ordinary interpretation of Mistar! I had seen this hideous demon before – sitting on a pile of corpses in the dead town on the border of the wild steppes.
We hurried to get out of the sinister temple, making sure that the White Brothers were still out of sight.
“It’s so vile!” Ice said. “To trade good old Orvad for this … abomination!”
I told him that I had already met this idol before.
“This time they’ve gone too far,” he nodded. “And I thought it was someone’s tasteless joke.”
“Well, it is not,” I said.
We went back to the inn almost at a run, but our friends were still out.
“What is it?” Ovayn asked, inspecting our worried faces.
We told him all about the idol and about the Orvad statue.
“They don’t usually go that far,” said Ovayn. “I think the White Brothers just wanted to have some fun.”
“Some fun at our expense?” Ice growled. “Nice! And now Orvad’s gonna fry my sorry ass for all eternity!”
“Orvad saw nothing,” Ovayn reassured him. “The statue was buried with its head deep down in the ground. Remember?”
“You are right!” Ice perked up. “Thanks, man! You just took a heavy burden off my shoulders.”
“Strange.” Ovayn looked at me. “You said that you met this very demon before, but the idol you described could only have come from the far north.”
“Come on,” Ice grinned. “That can’t be. The Nameless Lands have been desolate for centuries.”
“That’s what worries me the most,” said Ovayn. “I have to see it with my own eyes.”
We told him how to get to the temple.
Ovayn nodded. “I remember the place. It was a temple of Rothe once, my wife used to visit it before the White Brothers came…”
We did not ask what happened to his wife, for Ovayn suddenly fell silent, and his eyes became red.
✽✽✽
Bevid and Hrianon returned at dusk. The old sailor was pushing a heavily laden cart, and the girl trailed behind looking angry.
“No matter how expensive it is, we have to try everything,” Hrianon growled.
“My dear,” cried the sailor, “I can already see the bottom of my purse. I cannot buy you the whole market!”
Eimor appeared a few minutes later. He was carrying a rattling and creaking basket on his back.
“Luckily,” he said, “I met an apprentice selling alchemical equipment. He said his master was working on some mysterious potion and had poisoned himself just the day before.”
“Lucky us.” Bevid winced.
Eimor put the basket on the table. Ovayn and Bevid shrank back in terror, but Hrianon clapped her hands gleefully.
“I just want
to warn you, young lady,” Eimor said mildly, “if your powder doesn’t work, I’ll make a powder out of you!”
It seemed that Hrianon had already told Eimor and Bevid all about alchemist’s diary and had made them run around the town looking for the ingredients.
“I swear on my father’s grave!” Hrianon stood on tiptoe and kissed Eimor’s cheek.
I raised my hands, palms up.
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute! As far as I remember, we were sent here to collect information.”
Eimor nodded. “To spy,” he corrected me.
Bevid chuckled. “If they send Eimor, expect trouble. Mayhem is his speciality!”
✽✽✽
Soon the alchemical workshop was up and running in the basement under the inn. As it turned out, Eimor proved to be a great expert in this field, and Hrianon couldn’t take a step without his counsel or help.
Our wannabe alchemists were busy from morning till late at night, mixing concoctions and evaporating smelly liquids. Ice and I kept away from the foul dark basement.
Meanwhile, Bevid send the third pigeon to Master Aydiola.
Time passed, and we were not a single step closer to unravelling this mystery. What had happed in Gonkor? Who was behind all this, and what was their purpose? There were many questions, but no answers.
“The palace is heavily guarded,” Bevid said. “And the streets are swarming with White Brothers with their stupid green branches! The townsfolk have gone mad. They spend their days praying and their nights dancing in the streets. It looks like the whole kingdom is run not by the king but by Astar alone.”
Bevid was right. Every day I watched the White Brothers swarm the streets. They were like a tide, sweeping all in their path, devouring anyone who tried to stand their ground.
The shops and stalls were all closed and the half-empty markets were a sorry sight. You could wander around the city all day long in search of fresh fruit or spices and find nothing. Only fish was still aplenty, and only because grim Gonkor fishermen had neither time nor ear for the White Brothers’ preachings.
