by Pedro Urvi
“Yeah, I can see they’ve got us all very busy.”
She jabbed her thumb at the tower behind her. “Pigeons, owls, crows and messengers go out day and night from here.”
“Any news from the rest of the group? I haven’t heard from any of them, although that doesn’t surprise me, considering I’ve been lost in the fields and mountains of Norghana on one mission after another.”
Nilsa smiled. “Well, I have got some,” she said, and looked mischievously at him.
“Come on, don’t be like that, tell me what you know.”
“I’d better not do it here,” she said, and looked unobtrusively around her. “Besides, I’ve got something to show you. Let’s go to the tower, somewhere quiet and discreet.”
Lasgol was intrigued. “Okay, then.”
Nilsa took him inside the Rangers’ tower. He thought she was going to take him to one of the rooms on the ground floor which were set aside for those Rangers who were passing through, but he was wrong. She set off up the wide spiral staircase, and he thought she wanted to take him to report at once on the third floor, where Gondabar had his office. He was wrong again, because she went on up the stairs, very fast. This did not surprise him particularly, as she rarely did things at a normal speed, and almost never at any that implied calm. They passed several Rangers on guard on the different floors, but when they saw Nilsa they did not even make any move to halt them. They seemed to know her well, her and her races.
“Where on earth are you taking me?” Lasgol asked. He was beginning to be out of breath.
She laughed. “You’ll know when we get there.”
“Well, we certainly haven’t done that yet …” he said. His thighs were beginning to feel the hundreds of stairs.
“Don’t lag behind,” she teased him.
Lasgol saw her red hair and Ranger’s cloak appear and disappear with every turn of the stairs as they went up.
“Is there … any reason why we have to run up the stairs … at this rate?” he complained.
“Well, of course, a very important one.”
He frowned, waiting for the reply he knew was coming. “What?”
“Because I love to race upstairs like this,” she said, and laughed as she disappeared above him.
Lasgol rolled his eyes. “You don’t say …”
Nilsa went on until she reached the pigeon house, and stopped there. They were one floor below the topmost one. Lasgol, panting, stopped at the door and saw Nilsa inside it with fifty or so of the birds which the Rangers used for communication.
“Isn’t it amazing? Look at these beauties.”
Lasgol looked at the crows, pigeons, various kinds of owls, ravens, hawks and falcons in their cages and perches, and nodded as he recovered from the ascent.
“They’re wonderful.”
“They certainly are. I often come here. Although I don’t stay long.”
“Why not?”
“I love them, but it smells terrible.” She indicated the floor of the pigeon house, which was covered with bird droppings, and shrugged.
Lasgol grinned. “Yeah, it’s usually the case. So why have you brought me all the way up here?” He suspected that it was not just to show him the Rangers’ beautiful birds.
Nilsa pointed. “Look who’s come,” she said. Lasgol followed her finger and saw an angry-looking owl.
“Milton!” he cried delightedly, and went over to make a fuss of him.
“He arrived a few days ago.”
“I’m very happy to see you, Milton,” Lasgol said, and stroked his head gently. The owl’s feathers were soft and beautiful. “You’re very handsome,” he whispered. Milton clicked his beak, but allowed himself to be petted.
“He always lets you stroke him,” Nilsa complained. “The rest of us can’t even get close.”
“That’s not true. He lets Gerd do it too.”
“That’s true, but only the two of you. It’s not fair.”
Lasgol smiled. He searched for a message on the bird’s leg, but found none. “Did he come without a message, or do you have it?”
“I have it. But we’d better not read it here,” she said. She waved at the birds around them. “Too many witnesses,” she said with a smile.
She led him up to the topmost floor of the tower. The square, open battlements were deserted.
“We’ve got some time. The guard only comes up here three times a day. There’s nobody posted here all the time, now the war’s over.”
“I’m sure that more than one of them’ll be grateful not to have to come up here. These battlements are pretty high up.”
“Yeah, but look at the views. They’re wonderful.”
From the height of the tower, the whole city was visible at Lasgol’s feet, and he was surprised by how much detail he could see of the different buildings and neighborhoods. Beyond the walls of the city, he could make out forests, fields and paths, in every direction. The Zangrian army would have been visible approaching from several leagues away. The views left him breathless.
“It’s really something,” he commented.
“Isn’t it just? I love to come up here, even if I have to climb all those stairs.”
“Who’s the message from?”
“It’s from Egil. Let me read it to you.” She made sure that nobody was coming up before she read the message to Lasgol in a whisper:
“Dear friends and comrades, dear Snow Panthers, I hope this letter finds you all healthy and free from danger. Before explaining the reason for these lines, I am writing, I would like to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your unconditional friendship and the total support you have given me: particularly in a complex situation when the risk was so high for all of us. For this, and before I say anything else, you have my most sincere gratitude. It represents a great honor for me and makes me proud to count you among my loyal friends.”
Lasgol nodded. “There’s no doubt that it’s from Egil.” He had recognized his friend’s way of expressing himself, and a smile appeared on his face.
“He certainly is a bit affected,” Nilsa commented, and went on reading: “I have news which I think is significant, and you all need to know this since it affects us, even though I am not yet able to assess the extent or the gravity of the situation. The first piece of news I want to pass on to you is that Dolbarar is still very ill. The strange illness which is afflicting him, and which has had the Healer Edwina and the Master Ranger Eyra fighting for his life for months, has not eased. Far from that, it is extending through the whole of the Camp leader’s body, and the prognosis is beginning to be desperate. It is now common knowledge that he is seriously ill, and Edwina and Eyra are no longer hiding the fact. This, I’m afraid, is a sign of something very bad, not to say fatal.”
“Oh no!” Lasgol cried. “I was hoping he’d be better by now, that they’d have found a way of treating the illness.”
Nilsa nodded. Her expression was grave. “It seems they can’t heal him, Gondabar’s very worried about him. He’s sending messages to the Camp all the time to ask about his health.”
“That’s very bad news.” Lasgol was shaking his head and looking at the ground, deeply worried. He had been sure that Edwina and Eyra would find some way to heal Dolbarar. This was alarming. He wanted to help, but had no idea how to do so.
Nilsa went on reading: “There’s no need for me to tell you that I’ll do everything in my power to save Dolbarar’s life. I owe him my own, and I’ll never forget that. It’s a debt of honor which I must repay. I won’t stop trying to help him get his health back. You have my word on that. Because of his illness, Dolbarar is no longer acting as Leader of the Camp. He can’t leave his bed and is getting weaker and weaker, with his state of health so delicate that he requires constant attention. Edwina and Eyra spend more time in the House of Command than they do in their own. For the moment they’re keeping him alive, but every day that goes by he seems frailer to me. Soon he won’t even be able to tell me which things I need to t
ake care of. Gondabar, seeing that he’s not going to be able to count on Dolbarar to lead the Camp, has appointed a new interim leader until he recovers.”
Lasgol was looking at Nilsa with narrowed eyes. “Not Haakon, I hope,” he interrupted her.
Nilsa shook her head. “Gondabar’s sent Veenerten.”
“Who?” Lasgol had never heard the name.
“Angus Veenerten,” Nilsa repeated. “He’s a Master Ranger who’s been here at the capital helping Gondabar. From what I hear, King Thoran likes him.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good recommendation.”
Nilsa giggled. “That’s what I thought too. But if both Gondabar and Thoran think he’s competent, then he must be.” She shrugged.
“I have no doubt he’ll be competent, and smart too. What worries me is that the King likes him. That means that he might not be a very good person.”
“We don’t know that. He might get along with the King because he’s smart and knows how to deal with short-tempered monarchs.” Nilsa laughed at her own joke and glanced at the door to make sure nobody had heard her. It was not good political strategy to laugh at the current monarch.
“Let’s hope it’s that, but I think it’s more likely that he simply has a character like Thoran’s, and they get along well because of it.”
“Let’s see what Egil says about him,” Lasgol said.
Nilsa nodded and went on reading: “Angus Veenerten has already taken up the post. He’s kept me in my old duties, so I still have access to the mail and all the messages that pass through the Camp. I also keep access to some privileged information about what happens here. As far as that’s concerned, we haven’t lost access to information and intelligence which we’re sure to need. I don’t know him very well yet, but he gave me the feeling of someone quiet and serious. He must be around sixty, completely bald, short and thin. He looks like a scholar rather than a warrior, which surprises me, and even more the fact that he’s reached such a high position in the ranks of the Rangers. That may be precisely the reason, the lack of Erudites among us. Forgive me, I took this small license, seeing that I am in the minority among all those tall, strong, good-looking Rangers.”
“That was one of Egil’s jokes,” Lasgol said, “because he’s a scholar too, and one day he’ll be an erudite.”
“It certainly was,” Nilsa said, laughing.
“He’s always had a particular sense of humor.”
“Everything about Egil is particular,” Nilsa said, and giggled again.
“Very true.”
“I’ll go on,” she said: “On the other hand, the first disagreements between Veenerten and the Master Rangers have already made their appearance. It seems that they don’t share his ideas for improvement, especially Eyra and Esben, with whom he’s had several meetings which have not, shall we say, gone too well. Esben’s shouts could be heard from the nearby peaks. Eyra, who rarely gets angry, was beside herself with Veenerten’s new impositions. Ivana and Haakon, however, haven’t taken it so badly.”
“How strange …” Lasgol’s expression was ironic.
“Yeah, I thought the same.”
“Those two aren’t altogether trustworthy, I’m more and more convinced of that.”
“That’s a lot to say. It’s one thing if you don’t like them, and another to think they’re plotting something. There’s a gap between suspicion and fact.”
“Well, okay, I can’t prove it, but Haakon’s surely planning something, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if Ivana were in it with him.”
“That’s just a theory,” Nilsa said. “The fact that Haakon doesn’t like you and you don’t like him doesn’t make him a suspect. And anyway, suspected of what?”
Lasgol folded his arms and frowned. “Of everything.”
“Can you be a bit more specific? It’s all a bit general.”
“Well … of … of Dolbarar’s mysterious illness, for one thing, and … and the Dark Rangers, for another.”
Nilsa was thoughtful. “We can’t rule out anybody at this moment as far as those two fishy affairs are concerned, but I doubt very much whether Haakon or Ivana are involved.”
“Well, I think they are. The last time I was at the Camp I was questioned as if I were a criminal, and they looked daggers at me. Haakon in particular, but both of them did.”
“Couldn’t it have been because you gave them some vague answers?”
Lasgol wrinkled his nose. “I tell you, the way they treated me wasn’t entirely normal. It gave me the shivers. I’m used to not being treated with love, but this was different. Esben and Eyra, on the other hand, treated me as well as usual. I don’t think it was my imagination, and nor do I think it was just chance that they asked for so many explanations and that they came pretty close to being rude, Haakon in particular.”
“Well, Ivana’s always been very cold with everybody, and Haakon and you – well, you know … it could be just that.”
“Something tells me there was something else behind all that, but obviously it’s only a hunch.”
“And hunches are often wrong.”
“That’s very true, I’m not going to deny it. I’m just telling you so you keep it in mind.”
She winked. “Okay, I’ll do that.”
“Go on reading, to find out what else Egil has to say.” Lasgol sighed in anticipation.
Nilsa nodded. “In addition, it looks as though the new leader of the Camp is a bit of a control freak. He calls it paying attention to detail. He wants to be on top of everything, to know it all, and for the four Master Rangers to request his direct approval before they bring in any new ideas or make any decision. That hasn’t gone down very well. Dolbarar is a lot more open to new ideas, and he’s always encouraged his four Master Rangers to feel free to act and make decisions in their own fields as they see fit. He trusted them. From what I’ve been able to see of Veenerten, I have the feeling he’s the complete opposite. In fact, I’m beginning to think he doesn’t even trust his own shadow. I help him daily, and he always asks me a thousand questions. At first I thought it was because there were things he didn’t know. Now I’m beginning to realize he’s really making sure I do everything the way he wants it. My first impressions of him are that we’re faced with someone who’s very intelligent, but equally distrustful, if not more so, and with a tendency to need to know absolutely everything and to have everything under his own strict control. I don’t know whether this is because of some quirk in his personality or whether he doesn’t trust any of us, which I find rather strange. He might suspect me personally for being the person I am, but not the four Master Rangers, because they’ve spent years serving Dolbarar faithfully. I’m beginning to think it’s more of a character trait.”
“So, in other words, he doesn’t trust anybody and wants to have everything under his own personal control,” she concluded.
“Sounds charming,” Lasgol said dryly.
“You’re not having another of your hunches about him planning something against us?”
Lasgol smiled. “No, I don’t have any hunches. For now.”
Nilsa snorted, loudly enough for him to hear. “Thank goodness for that!”
“I’ll let you know when I have one,” he said with a smile. “Go on reading, please, if you’d be so kind.”
“Another of the significant things I’ve noticed recently, that is to say since the end of the war, is that I’m being watched. At first, I ascribed this to my nerves, as I always have to watch my back. Unfortunately, I have been able to establish that I’m being watched very closely inside the Camp. I usually go to the Library every day, as you know, because of my duties, or else to broaden my knowledge. The former I usually do during the day and the latter at night, since I have the key, thanks to my responsibilities. During the day one of the veteran Rangers, Vincent Uliskson, always follows me at a prudent distance. At first I failed to notice, because he keeps himself very well hidden, even in broad daylight, but I had been having the odd sense tha
t I was being watched, and I was unable to shake it off. By one of life’s coincidences – sometimes these things do happen – one day when I was loaded with books I bumped into a third-year who was coming out of the Library, also carrying several books. I fell backwards and the books flew all over the place. I tried to stop one of them – Essays on failed monarchies – hitting the ground and ruining its leather cover. I twisted on the ground, seized it with one hand and rescued it. In that forced move I saw a pair of boots vanishing quickly behind one of the trees behind me, and was surprised by the movement. I got up slowly and stared at the tree while several third-years picked up the books. To my great surprise the boots never reappeared, but instead stayed hidden behind the tree. I waited for some time, but neither the boots nor the Ranger they belonged to came out from behind that tree. Coincidence? I don’t believe very much in coincidences. From that moment I started paying more attention and finally spotted Vincent. It was a difficult business, but gradually I was able to spot him. Of course, I’d already had my suspicions and was almost certain that he was following me, which helped.”
“Does this Vincent ring a bell?” Lasgol asked.
“Nope. He might only just have been sent to the Camp.”
“It wouldn’t be unusual. There’s been quite a turnover of staff, and even more with the war. Go on, please. I don’t like this.”
Nilsa nodded. “Then I got an even greater surprise. I was not only being watched during the day, but also at night. Another Ranger, Musker Isterton, also a veteran, is the one in charge of the night shift. I saw him from the Library window one night in a moment of distraction on his part. It was once again because I was watching in case Vincent was outside. I must admit, I’m not surprised that I’m being watched. I am the person I am and I bear the name I bear, and that’s not going to change, The war is over, but the West will regain its strength again in a not-too-distant future, which is beginning to make many illustrious people of our realm nervous.
