The Creed
Page 19
The next morning he had everyone gather together. The worried and tense faces steeped in silence knew that the news wasn’t good. The men and women tried to maintain calm, and pass tranquility onto the children, but the tension was there. Var started speaking from a position above, on a slight rise overlooking the hollow where the people had grouped together. The area had been called ‘the gathering’ for centuries, because its shape and the rocky walls that surrounded it made for a perfect arena with excellent acoustics even if outdoors. In the past it had been the place where the people assembled to decide on important events. It was for this reason everyone was sure that this was a crucial moment in the history of the people of Atiarav. Var wanted his brother, Nora, and the commanders of his tiny army, beside him. Eight men in total. He did not summon Ucal, because he did not play a pivotal role in this very tight knit military hierarchy. Ucal took his place with the people, off to one side as always. Var looked at him for a moment. He owed the salvation of his people to that young man, and yet he was not granted a place of honor. He felt guilty. Ucal wore his usual calm and still expression. He didn’t expect anything. That hurt Var even more.
Between the bated breaths of all present, he informed them of what they had learned thanks to Ucal’s powers of observation. The warrior listened along with everybody else. Var did not omit any information he had at his disposition. The resolution with which he spoke however, made everyone understand that he already had a plan ready and that the terrible menace would not be endured, but faced head on.
“We have two lines of action,” he began, as soon as he had finished describing the situation.
“The first is to recall all men from the borders of the Kingdom of Dar. We need them. Above all, I cannot allow them to lose their lives for the same King who wishes to annihilate us. I need volunteers to be dispatch riders. I am very familiar with all battle fronts that the Governor of Solzhaz has requested to send our citizens over the years. Five battle fronts means five dispatch riders who must reach them with my missive. Each rider will have ten copies of my letter so that news will be read by as many people as possible, once the rider reaches the front. Battlefronts are vast and we will need to spread the news by word of mouth, by means of secondary dispatch riders who will be formed after the first. Members of the first group must then return as soon as possible. Each dispatch rider team will be made up of three people and must travel incognito. To make themselves known to the warriors of Atiarav they will carry sashes with our symbols. I need fast riders and fast runners. News must get there in the shortest time possible. The furthest frontier is the south-east front. It is also the most arduous, both for environmental reasons and climate conditions, and the scenes of war that are developing right now. The nearest is to the north, towards the lands of the Rotmandis.” Var stopped for a second.
“There are very few of us,” he said through clenched teeth. I cannot allow only the men to go. Fifteen men is more than we can afford, because we must ready the defenses as I will soon explain. I need at least two women in each dispatch team. Five men, ten women,” Var finished without hesitating, knowing he was asking for a huge sacrifice from the families.
“It will not be without danger. Once you reach the front, the dispatch team must identify at least three of our warriors and ensure that three letters are delivered to each, so that they continue the chain of information as fast as they can. The most delicate moment will be approaching our warriors in the army,” he stopped for an instant, “each messenger will have to base their decision on the situation they find themselves. The risk is being captured by the soldiers of the kingdom. It is implicit that no one must reveal the aim of the intrusion into the military camps. Use every strategy possible to get out alive. Once you have carried out the mission, whoever is able, must return here promptly to give support to our defenses. I will establish which men will ride. The women will volunteer.”
He was about to move onto the second topic, but he halted. Many girls were moving forward in the crowd, young women not yet married and without children, but also mothers with families who knew they could count on the elderly to take care of their children. There were at least thirty of them. Var struggled to contain his emotions. None of their family members protested, even if Var saw many of them close their eyes in pain; the elderly women trembled as they watched their daughters go up, while children asked where their mothers were going. It tore at his heart.
“I ask forgiveness from your loved ones and your children,” he said quietly when they were near, but the silence and the acoustics of the rocky arena carried his words to all. He turned towards Nora.
“Captain Nora will choose the ten most suitable. She will evaluate your speed, your riding skills, your vigilance, but above all, your aptitude for this mission. You will comply with her decision.” Nora nodded in assent. She pointed to the volunteers to stand beside her until the marquis had finished giving orders to his people.
“All able fighting men who remain, will be assigned to the defenses. We must spread out in the mountains, in numbers of no more than four families per core group. Each family group will be defended by groups of guards, which will be divided up evenly. Points of communication have been established, where leaders will bring colored strips of fabric bearing symbols to determine if the family group is well, whether there have been sightings, or if instead there have been attacks and loss of life. A communication group will have the duty of collecting this information and keeping me up to date, taking back with them my orders to each core group. Each core group will abide by the orders they receive, without hesitation. We will have you move frequently as we must be mobile and invisible. We will not look to attack until we have the elements we need to do so.” He gave no further explanation for this last command. He stopped to see the reaction of his people in light of this terrible news. Cries were withheld behind tense faces. The nightmare hadn’t ended. Families held each other tight. Able men clenched their teeth; it was time to fight again. The guards of his army were ready and they showed him their harsh, proud expressions. Ucal was like a statue, calm, and very attentive as always.
“I have put together a list of teams together with the captains. By this evening, each one of you will have been assigned a specific duty. If I die, Bal will succeed me. May God concede us survival, and to live freely and in peace.”
That was everything. Now the people of Atiarav knew. Captains, group leaders and simple soldiers bowed to witness they had taken orders from the marquis.
That same day saw preparations in full swing. Var wrote down the text for the letter to be delivered by the messengers. He handed it to his captains for their approval. Two scribes prepared a sufficient number of copies to be distributed by the five dispatch teams.
To make up the strips of acknowledgment, pieces of cut up fabric were used from a few sheets to press the symbols of the Marquisate of Atiarav into the wooden mark: the cardoon which is the thorny flower able to survive the harshest mountain climes, and the chub: a river fish which knows how to live in strong river currents, a symbol of strength able to oppose fate. Var subdivided the people into core family groups, making them up so that each group had roughly the same number of able-bodied adults who could defend the group, and weaker people. Together with his captains he distributed duties to each person. Nora, Bal and Baxel, a young and very capable captain, were chosen to make up the communication group; they would be the ones who were most exposed to danger in being identified by the sentinels of the Kingdom of Dar. No one objected to receiving their orders.
That evening, everything was ready. The next day, everybody would abandon the first settlement. This would perhaps always be nothing more than a building site now. Each person had a specific destination: the dispatch riders towards the furthest regions of the kingdom, the others towards the network of hiding places in the highest parts of the valley. The only anomaly was Flash: he didn’t want to join with any of the family groups, despite the fact that many wanted to have him wi
th them. His candor and his ability to make do, and the way in which he made the other children happy was appreciated by everyone. To Flash, it wasn’t a matter up for discussion: his destiny was tied to that of Ucal. The warrior had much to say in trying to convince him to join the strongest families, or those most fond of him.
“Wherever you go, I go,” the child cut him off before running off to play with his friends, as if nothing were at stake. Ucal gave in. He knew he wouldn’t listen to reason. The warrior was the only one who hadn’t received orders and therefore didn’t know his destination from one day to the next. That’s why he went to Var. He found him sitting in front of a fire near the construction of his house. The marquis lifted his gaze when he saw him coming, as if he had been expecting him. Ucal saw he was tired, perhaps for the first time ever. The tension of the preparations melted away. Everything that could be planned, weighed up, organized and made available, had been done.
“Var, do you have any orders for me?” he asked simply. He was a warrior. He didn’t beat around the bush with words, and he didn’t know the uncertainty of thoughts and intentions. If he didn’t know, he asked.
“Yes, I do.” Var responded. He made a sign for Ucal to sit down next to him in front of the fire. Ucal sat down on a rock beside him and he took the time to stoke the fire with a poker. He understood that Var was getting his thoughts in order and he wanted to give him time to do so. Clen and the children were with the others to say their goodbyes, embrace and give over to fresh tears that separation and anxiety for the future brought. Before speaking, Var took a big breath. Ucal knew that what he was about to say was painful. He felt ready though for anything, and he nodded his head to communicate that whatever he had to say, Ucal would be there for him. He slowly laid down the poker and turned his full attention to the marquis.
“You are free,” Var began, “you are not obliged to take part in our destiny.”
“We’ve already talked about this Var, get to the point,” Ucal interrupted him. Var pursed his lips. He had to make sure Ucal was aware of the consequences of his choice.
“If you remain, you are my best warrior and based on this, I will assign you your mission.” Ucal opened his hands, straightened his back slightly, his expression relaxed.
“Of course,” he said, accepting the premise which meant Var had left the most difficult mission for him.
“They have been hunting us down to get their hands on a power our people have been guarding for centuries,” Var began. “My family is responsible for its guardianship. That is the reason they are hunting me down so furiously. You were the first to understand it, the desire goes beyond the Emissary. Perhaps it even goes beyond the desire of King Lotar!! This insistence does not correspond with the impression I have of this king, nor of the politics he maintained up to a couple of years ago. I knew his father and I cannot align this absolute hate with the image I have of him and his son. I have the feeling there is a picture with pieces missing; we don’t have all of the materials needed to understand its final design.” Ucal nodded. Nothing new up to here.
“We protect the Cumbal, and this is the reason I knew of the existence of the Uicics, the non human people that Vetems and Vetem warriors are descended.”
“Like Selot.”
“Yes, like Selot. Like the Hood of Death. I’m beginning to fear we have finished up in the middle of a Uicic civil war, or at least in between two factions. I am almost certain that even King Lotar is nothing more than a stepping stone in a game which is far vaster.” Var closed his eyes for a second. He was about to reveal details that were destined only for his sons. Ucal knew it without asking.
“The Cumbal can only be activated by a Vetem. Or better still: only a Vetem can open it and remain alive. It is an object that grasps the vital energy of whoever holds it and exploits it for their purposes, even to the point of completely consuming their energy. Written in ancient codes, there must be at least two or three Vetems united to be able to complete this purpose, knowing full well that the first must withdraw quickly before exhausting their vital strength.” Var watched the breathing flames of fire and its flickering geometry. “The combination to activate it is contained in two stone Steles, one useless without the other. King Lotar sent me to recuperate one of them which was situated in the heart of the peak of Mount Kisov.”
“And the other?” Ucal asked, imagining this was the point he was leading to.
“They looked for it in Avascen…”
Ucal nodded his head. “When I observed the rubble, I knew then that before destroying it they had tried to search for something with meticulous determination. I had the impression that the force of destruction was based on the fact they hadn’t found what they were looking for.”
Var winked and smiled slightly. He admired his friend.
“As always, your perspicacity has quickly dug up the truth. They were looking for the second Stele. The few who know of this secret think that my ancestor moved it to Avascen after we were exiled from Solzhaz. But that is not the case.”
“Where is it then?”
“It is in the residence where my family once resided in Solzhaz, before we were forced to retreat to the higher parts of the Valley of Atiarav: it’s in the Governor’s palace. They’ve had it under their noses the whole time without knowing,” he said, smiling bitterly. “There’s a very ancient crypt under the foundations of the palace. It was the place where my ancestors went to pray. We believe that the government of a people is a weighty responsibility, which should be upheld even unto death, praying every day to be worthy enough. Not an undeserved privilege where riches and personal advantage can be extracted. To govern means to serve.” His words were thick with resentment. “But it appears this new kingdom is taking us on a different course, far from this vision.”
Var went back to practical matters.
“The underground rooms of the palace are a labyrinth, and they extend much further than the visible plans of the building. They run underneath the entire city of Solzhaz. I had a map, but it was destroyed in the blaze that devastated my fort. You’ll have to rely on my memories…which are not very precise.” Var clenched his jaw. “As you can imagine, I can’t spare you men for this mission. You’ll have to do it alone. I can give you a lot of information about the defense garrison at Solzhaz and about the guards at the Palace; information about its access points, on how the guards are organized in shifts. Nothing more.”
Ucal’s mind went over the assignment. He wrinkled his forehead.
“Var, have you by any chance considered my skills as thief rather than warrior?” Ucal pretended to be offended. It was the first laugh after such a heavy day of preparations.
“Both, I must admit,” replied the marquis.
The mission was a desperate one. Ucal did not stop to weigh up the risks involved. Logic was not the right approach in this situation. It had to be done. He would find a way, or die trying. Everything that the people of Atiarav had prepared for was exactly the same. It was like that for the dispatch teams, for whoever remained to defend, and for the families who had to hide in the woods. It would be so for him. At that point there was nothing more to add. Though the full picture of Var’s plan had escaped Ucal.
“Why do you want the second stone? Why not leave it where it was? If they’ve never guessed where it is, so close to them, why do you want to force their hand? You’ll risk drawing their attention, and maybe even allow them to discover its existence. Why have you revealed it to me? Now I am just one more person who knows about it. If I were to fall into the hands of a Xàmvetem he would suck the information out of my brain. Why are you risking so much?”
“I’m risking little with you. You have never failed a mission and you will not fail in this one either. You are the only man I know who could possibly pull off a job like this. And the heavens brought you here, so you could do it.” Ucal arched an eyebrow.
“That’s very intense faith you have in me, my noble friend. Though I still don’t understand. Yo
ur aim is to obstruct King Lotar II, or whoever else, from using the Cumbal. Perhaps the safest thing to do is to leave that damn slab where it is,” insisted Ucal, who would not be satisfied with that explanation until he understood every single aspect of the matter.
“My aim has changed, Ucal. I want the Cumbal. I want the access keys and I want to be in a position to use it if I am forced to; to wipe out the enemies of my people from the face of the earth.” The darkened look of the marquis made even a warrior like Ucal, who had seen it all, tremble. The warrior kept quiet for a few seconds.
“I hope it is a good decision,” he finally said, trying to maintain a balance, but one could see that the idea of opening up such a powerful and mysterious force left him speechless.
“It’s my plan B,” Var said following Ucal’s train of thought. “Nevertheless, I won’t hesitate to use it if the oppressive forces of the Kingdom of Dar try and destroy us.”