The Creed

by Perla Giannotti

  He fueled his run with his own fatigue, treading on it without pity, and taking it in with every stride. He drank as he ran. He only stopped to fill up his water bottles from a spring, putting both under the water at the simultaneously to save time. He limited himself to eating once a day, before allowing himself a couple of hours’ sleep. To be sure he’d wake after a short time, he placed his arm under his body so the lack of circulation would wake him up with pain. An old trick his grandfather taught him. The full moon illuminated his run during the nocturnal hours.

  He reached the secret opening of the Caverns that led to the Valley of the Uicics the evening of the third day as planned. He took his time as he sipped the last of his water from a water bottle. Now there was nothing left to do except light the torch on an altar on the side of the rocky wall. The Uicics would make themselves known. No other man knew of that place. As he formed his wish to live just long enough to pass on this knowledge to his firstborn son, he searched for the right branches. He had to be quick, sunset was nearing. The smoke, forced upwards in a type of natural rocky chimney would alert the Uicic sentinels who would then come forth. When the pieces of wood sizzled, emitting the first timid tongues of fire and its first smoke, he let himself fall to the ground on his knees, exhausted. There was nothing more he could do except wait. He prayed they would realize his presence soon. He fed the fire and once it was ablaze he threw green wood on top so it would release a lot of smoke. Before the last ray of sunshine stopped touching the peaks of the highest mountains of Eizco, he heard a barely audible rustling. He sharpened his eyes in the twilight. Against the rock, almost camouflaged against the rocky background, he spied three archers with arrows loaded and pointed in his direction, not more than a few steps away from him. He hadn’t heard them come so close. The Uicics had an almost supernatural ability to hide themselves. A fourth Uicic approached without uttering a sound. Var bowed.

  “I am Var, Marquis of Atiarav. The Cumbal is in danger. I must meet with your Council, for a directive regarding that which I protect.” The Uicic remained impassible. They’d already verified he was alone. This last Uicic glanced quickly at the rings Var wore on his fingers which represented the marquisate. Then he examined the clothes the man wore; they made him look more like a vagabond than a nobleman. Judging by the shirt and the worn out, dirty jacket, there may have been a certain elegance to them once upon a time. Sweat ran from his hair down his face, and he exhausted by fatigue. The Uicic then sneered.

  “If you are not who you claim to be, you will die. If you are here for something other than what you have declared, you will die,” he said in the language of Atiarav with an unusual accent Var’s ears were not used to hearing. They confiscated his sword, and escorted him into the caverns under the constant threat of arms. The Uicics proceeded through the absolute darkness, pulling him in the right direction at each turn. It was impossible to memorize the way. He lost all sense of direction. After interminable hours they re-emerged in the most spectacular Valley Var had ever seen or imagined. Very high, gushing cascades bordered by luxurious vegetation opened up before them. Everything gave the immediate impression of verticality: the rocky pinnacles that rose up on the entire horizon; cliffs and ledges that overlooked an impressive abyss; he couldn’t identify the very tall trees with their straight trunks that carried leafy branches to the sky. The group walked for several hours. Finally, he was pointed towards an underground entrance that opened up halfway up a steep rocky wall.

  “Wait here,” he was told, and then left completely alone. He didn’t ask how long it would take. He knew he wouldn’t receive an answer. In the semi-darkness of that place he saw a stone seat and water in a pitcher. He drank it greedily. He sat down and waited. The night had enveloped the earth by now and Var could see a portion of the sky through the entrance of the cave. The cave went down rapidly towards the depths of the earth and he could not see anything else beyond the first few steps from the entrance. Finally, Var curled up on the seat and slid into a troubled sleep.

  “Come near.” The voice came from inside the cavity and its tone was commanding. When Var unglued his eyes, he had the impression it was not the first time he had been called. He had slept, but he felt more tired than ever. He went towards the darkness where he felt the ground beneath him give way rapidly. The temperature was suddenly cooler. He advanced, leaving the opening that went outside behind him somewhat timidly.

  “Come near,” the voice urged him again. The way curved round and there was no longer even the dim light of the moon to show him the way. He was immersed in absolute darkness without a guide. He felt around with his hands and sensed there were no walls, nor ceiling. The passage was either very big or else he was already in the underground chamber.

  “Come closer.” Var took a deep breathed, got past his fear of that deep dark in a place he was unfamiliar with, and stepped forward. He could fall into a bottomless pit without even realizing it. He sharpened his senses to anticipate air currents with a different temperature or odor, which might indicate turns, tunnels or chasms in front of him. Wandering through underground darkness had its own rules and clues for orienting oneself. He heard a light gurgling of water from afar.

  “Now halt,” the voice indicated. It was near. Var kept his eyes closed. To keep them open would be useless and keeping them closed helped him to concentrate better with his other senses. He stopped suddenly and tried to listen for the slightest sound. It felt like there was more than one presence.

  “We recognize you. We know who you are. You are the only man in the world with permission to commune with us.” Var was a aware of a rustling, a movement inside garments.

  “Why are you here?”

  He had thought out every single word he would say to every possible question that might be asked of him, and to give the most efficient answers. With every stride of his exhausting run, he’d done nothing else. He’d blocked out all the rest: his family, Ucal, the fate of his people. He’d prepared his mind for this encounter with a Vetem. He’d evoked the feelings and the necessary words to obtain what he wanted. No begging, no pleading. He would get nothing from that cold and diffident race. He had to create a position to negotiate and exploit it to his advantage. But he had to sound out their willingness and interests too. He was missing the material to complete the mosaic, even if he had an accurate idea of what that might be.

  “Last year I was sent to seek the Right Stele of Mount Kisov by an Emissary of King Lotar.” Var was very precise in naming it. Nobody else could possibly know the two Steles had been given the names of ‘Right’ and ‘Left’.

  “That we know.”

  “I am certain the Kingdom of Dar knows about the Cumbal, its use and its access too. Initially I believed they only had vague information and that they were simply testing the waters. Eventually however, it dawned on me that they had come very close to the truth. I do not know how this is possible. I have precise information though, that they know exactly where the Cumbal is and they know how to activate it.” He was bluffing shamelessly. The Emissary whom Selot had eliminated had actually thought the Stele and the Cumbal were one in the same thing, not understanding that there was one object and two access keys. A silent vibration followed this revelation and afterwards, a very slight murmuring.

  “That which you speak seems unlikely.”

  Var kept up his bluff. “I had occasion to speak with the Emissary Selot eliminated,” he confirmed, trying to maintain a steady, sure tone without being brash, showing as much respect as possible.

  “Selot gave us a very detailed account of events. He would have spoken about this.” Var grimaced in the dark, they had made a counterattack. He regained control straightaway.

  “Selot was not aware of it.”

  “That is impossible,” a second voice said.

  “I have this knowledge and I didn’t share it with Selot. I know how to protect myself from a Vetem.”

  “I doubt you could from one like Selot,” the second voice retorted.
That Uicic held high esteem for the boy, thought Var almost proudly.

  “It’s not because of my ability,” said Var exploiting the emotional energy that coursed through him at the memory of his very young friend, “but for his spirit of service and respect. He never lifted his eyes into mine.” This part had been easy: Selot had never violated Var’s mind, taking advantage of his Vetem talents.

  Var seemed to feel a sigh of disappointment.

  “This could indeed be the case,” the voice confirmed in a defeated tone. “Selot still had a lot to…learn.”

  “I have information they are nearing the Cumbal,” Var stressed. “As you know it is in a place without protection.”

  “This is unexpected and worrying. We ourselves are unaware of its location,” said the first voice. “That power almost brought our people to destruction centuries ago and other inhabitants of the planet too. That is why the Sages, in an epoch long ago, readied ironclad measures to safeguard it far from us; we are the species who give life to Vetems, the only ones able to use it. Only one of us is aware of its location, but not of the hiding places of the Steles. Only one of us knows the location of the Right Stele and only one of us knows where to find the Left Stele. Only you, Marquis, know the combination of all three objects. You are however a man, and you cannot touch the Cumbal. Not you, and not any other man. There are more…mechanisms that render access inviolable, unless there are particular events, and even then, only by the consensus of many.”

  Var listened greedily to each piece of information. The voice continued.

  “All this aside, it is known that the Cumbal is deposited in an inaccessible location for any Vetem because of the energy that opposes the very life force that feeds the Vetems’ own existence. For this reason, we maintain as of the first, that your preoccupations are unwarranted.”

  “Well…that’s not exactly the case,” Var contradicted them with a smile that no one could see. He left the unexpressed reason hanging in the air. He had the advantage of knowledge over them. The information he had received was helping him compose his mosaic. He began seeing its edges. He would take great advantage of it. He sensed unrest spreading.

  “There are elements that persuade me to believe that even a Vetem can near the place where the Cumbal was hidden. Perhaps they too have reached the same conclusion,” he said, deliberately leaving out explanations so their minds neared his trap. Var was close to having a clear idea of the whole picture, even if what he said was not at all true. He couldn’t possibly know who ‘they’ were. He could only hypothesize that they were a faction of species adverse to the Uicic Council. And above all, he had planted the seed of doubt. They were no longer certain the Cumbal was safe.

  “We must verify the truth of your declarations. You will be examined by a Vetem. We know that your descending family line is able to deceive our exams, but we also know a few countermeasures.” The voice was gelid. Var didn’t have time to wonder what these might be. He heard a deafening noise, and then a blinding light bowled him over. He couldn’t work out where it was coming from. He opened his eyes instinctively. Someone behind surprised him with a lightning speed gesture, putting a cord around his neck. It was pulled violently. His hands flew to his throat, terrified. A black outline stood before him against the light, overwhelming him. He knew it was a Vetem. The cord continued to tighten and it felt like he wanted to kill him. He realized this feeling of terror which had been planted within him was sharpened by images projected by the Vetem. He felt the Vetem’s mind slip overbearingly into his own thoughts. His defenses had already been won over. He thrashed in search of air. In an extreme attempt he took his hand away from his throat and tried to grab the man who was suffocating him, but someone else grabbed his wrists and held them behind his back in a tight grip. It went on for lengthy, horrible moments. When he thought he was about to die, it all stopped. The light went out and the grip that was suffocating him disappeared all of a sudden. He bent forward out of breath, taking deep painful gasps to get air back into his lungs; he needed calm to deal with the situation. The terror he’d fallen into had lowered his guard completely. He was sure to have failed. He still had the look of terror in his eyes and throat, but the worst thing was his failure. His legs trembled. He pulled himself up. He would face his destiny standing straight. In the absolute darkness he listened to the murmurs of the Uicics. Finally, he heard the judgment.

  “We have judged your words to be true,” it sentenced in an unstressed manner. The Marquis hid his incredulity. He couldn’t believe it. He was certain the Vetem had delved into the depths of his mind, where there was no chance of deceit. He hid his relief.

  “We must protect the Cumbal,” the voice said in the darkness.

  “Please let Selot come with me. With Selot and some of my best captains, I will be able to extract the Cumbal from its current location and take it to wherever you tell me,” he said, dominating his beating heart. He hid his real intention beneath his conscious thought, which was to keep that damned thing, along with Selot too.

  “That is not possible. Selot is not here. He is on a mission for us and he will not be available for some time.”

  “You could call him back.”

  “That is not possible. We will occupy ourselves with the Cumbal in some other way,” the voice cut off. “This encounter will terminate here. You have carried out your errand. You may go now.” Var wouldn’t give up so easily.

  “I maintain that only a team led my me, along with Selot’s support, will put the Cumbal in safe hands in time.” Var didn’t have any idea of which instruments the Uicic people might have to face a challenge of this kind, but his pragmatic vision of warrior made him believe that there were no gods or demigods on earth, only men. There may be different species, but they were always mortal and often fallible. There was no magic wand. Therefore, even they would have to make plans that weren’t without risks. He gave the impression of being certain of his statement. There followed an exchange of words he did not understand.

  “If we have need of your services, we will seek you out. Now, take leave and return to your people. We understand that you are being hunted by your enemies.” Var gulped.

  “Yes. For reasons of the Cumbal, obviously. My people are paying a very high price for their search,” he said as he struggled to keep calm.

  “Your family accepted to protect the Cumbal at all costs. The price your people pay is in the pact.” Var’s blood boiled.

  “As the pact was made, so too can it be broken,” he said without even thinking. His levelheadedness had not produced the fruit he had hoped for, and so he was growing bold.

  “We could simply kill you,” the voice replied conversely.

  “So you can find and protect the Cumbal yourselves. And you will find the two Steles on your own,” Var responded, grinding his teeth. “Why haven’t you done so before now? Was it only to respect the safety measures implemented by your Sages?” Var let a few moments pass by to create tension. “I’ll tell you why,” he added in the heat of the moment without waiting for an answer, “because you can’t. You need us. You need me. And I need Selot.” That affirmation was a risk, but he was driven by his instinct now and his thoughts were no longer passed through the filter of prudence.

  “Marquis, your behavior is unacceptable.”

  “Your attitude is unacceptable. You consider my people like animals to slaughter. Well, I’ve got news for you. I am not your servant. Pacts are made between peers. Get down from your high benches and let’s talk with equal dignity or consider the pact between our peoples null and void. So everything will be lawful. I have given precise indications to who is to take my place in case of my death.” Var had the satisfaction of feeling the discomfort spread.

  “You are in no condition to make conditions.”

  “Nor are you,” Var retorted, as if he had an entire army ready to intervene.

  The voice began:

  “We must retreat to confer between ourselves. You will wait here.”
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  “Don’t even think about it. Decide here and now. My people cannot wait. I cannot wait. I want to get them out of the hands of our enemies who are looking for it, to save my people. Now you stay right here, and discuss it with me.”

  “You must wait,” the voice repeated, annoyed. Var heard a low rustling. Then he was certain he’d been left alone in that world of absolute darkness and silence. He had pushed his luck too far this time. A reaction given over to desperation. He’d hoped to keep them engaged in conversation, without giving them time to reason. Now they would have time and tranquility to weigh up his words and without the emotional urgency, they would evaluate it coldly. With the pause they’d conceded, he’d lost the advantage of his verbal offensive. Once more, the result oscillated in complete uncertainty. He hadn’t taken a single step forward since he’d entered that damned cavern. He let out the most painful sigh of his life. The breath spread throughout the emptiness, until it hit the far walls in that underground world; it reverberated for a long time, and then returned to Var distorted and amplified, shaking his heart. The Marquis lifted his head towards the sky he could not see. He rubbed his eyes, finding relief in the gesture. As he lowered his hand, the hem of his sleeve brushed against something very close. He stiffened. There shouldn’t have been anything around him. A presence instead was there in front of him, almost touching him. His blood froze.