The Creed

by Perla Giannotti

  “What do you think?”

  Marrhit's face clouded over. Without answering, he turned around and left to nap.

  Selot and Ucal spent the rest of their time chatting. Selot told him about the battle at Saus and how they had been suddenly saved by Var. Ucal shivered at the thought of Yellow Eye.

  “Will there be another just like him, down there?”

  “The General of this legion is a Xàmvetem,” Selot confirmed. “We know there are many of them, and that they are installed at the vertices of military and political power in the kingdom. They will stop at nothing.”

  Sunset arrived and words died down. Marrhit returned to give them the sign to get ready. They wiped coal on their faces to be as dark as the night.

  “Our aim is to enter and proceed unseen until the tents of the official lodging quarters of the general headquarters. They won't be ready for us and we shouldn't raise alarm. I need to get to the officials closest to the General. If it goes badly for us and someone realizes we are there, we need to eliminate him simulating a fist fight, maybe a quarrel over cards or something like that. Kill and stab them with their own weapons.”

  “Can't you use your voice to make them lose their memory of ever seeing us?” Marrhit shook his head.

  “A mind that has been visited by a Vetem is always visible to another Vetem. The only mind that is silent is a dead mind. Don't make me waste my time explaining it to you. Listen and that's it. I will shield you if necessary. Selot explain it to your friend.”

  “Tomorrow morning, the dead will put them on alert in any case, as soon as they are found,” Selot said. “Do you really think they'll fall for the fight...or even more than one?” Marrhit stood directly in front of his brother. “We need to know what is happening and we need to do that as silently as possible. If you've got a better idea than that, feel free to tell me. In any case, I am certain the General and his men know that we are near.” There it was, that shadow on Marrhit's face. “To have the certainty will not change much for them. Having the information about their plans could make all the difference for us.” Selot reasoned. It made sense: they had been exposed in the battle to defend Saus. Their existence had been noted by the leaders of the army. The Congregation was awaiting their every move, without a doubt.

  “So this could be a trap, put out for us! Is that what you think?”

  “Unfortunately, that's a possibility.”

  “Well, why should we decide to go in there then?”

  “Because your marquis is right, and you should at least, learn strategic intelligence from him!” Marrhit burst out. “Without information we are blind and we could make a wrong decision. This incursion is a very high risk. But we cannot leave without this information.” Marrhit was silent for a few seconds. He diverted his gaze. “And then,” he continued with a bitter tone of voice, “if we return without useful information to get ready for war, your marquis will ask you to use the Cumbal, without a doubt.” Then his words hardened. “I will go in alone, you stay here. If I do not return by tomorrow, you must run to warn your marquis.”

  “What? You cannot think of facing such a risk alone...” Marrhit answered him in the Uicic language.

  “Reason, Selot. You are the only one in the world who can use the Cumbal. If I do not come back, you have no other alternative. It would mean that the General of this base and the entire Congregation along with him, will be sure we have come to the aid of the people of Atiarav. The deviants of the Council will also be informed. You are far too precious an element, you must not fall into their hands. And Ucal must not fall either, he knows too much about the two of us and above all, about you. He doesn't know how to shield against a Vetem and his knowledge would be given away in very few seconds.

  Marrit's observations were not unfounded. Selot was about to retort, but he kept quiet. He was aware of something moving near them. Marrhit had also perceived it. Ucal followed their alarmed looks. All three of them pulled out their swords. A slight rustle, and then the footsteps of a man moving away from them. Someone had seen them and was trying to escape.

  “Ucal, you stay here!” Marrhit said. He and Selot threw themselves into the direction where they heard the steps. Under the uncertain light of the stars, for what little could shine through the woods, they spied the outline of two men. They moved at lightening speed in an area where the leaves of the trees were more sparse and a ray of light shone on the Dar insignia of their capes. A pair of sentinels, outside the camp. They had to stop them. The two Vetems were on top of them in a very short time. Marrhit slit the first man's throat with a very swift movement. Selot was not as quick. He saw the terror in that man who was wondering how he might escape death.

  “Wait, don't...” the man implored, but there was no time left to add more. Marrhit's knife reached his heart.

  “Before killing them, did you at least discover anything interesting?” Selot asked as he slowly lowered the cadaver to the ground. He did not agree with his brother's methods. Marrhit was a very powerful Vetem, and he could have found ways, other than taking away life. He couldn't resign himself to the fact that this was the only possible way. “Did you hear what I said?” he pressed him, annoyed for his lack of reply, but he immediately kept quiet, in alarm. His brother's expression was tense.

  “We are in trouble, up to our necks,” Marrhit murmured. “Yellow Eye is here and he is expecting us.” Selot's blood froze in his veins.

  “We must alert Ucal...”

  “It's too late.” Marrhit closed his eyes, and passed a hand over his face.

  They turned round. They were trapped. They were entirely surrounded by a platoon with their bows at the ready. Something hit them. They immediately fell to the ground, unconscious.

  They awoke in chains, stocks on their hands and feet, kneeling down on a wooden base in the central square of the general headquarters of the military camp. They were barefoot and wore pants only. They were strangely, not blindfolded.

  Selot looked around him, dumbfounded. “I believe I've been here before...” he said ironically.

  Marrhit had come back to reality very quickly. “We are two perfect idiots. I should have gone away on my own, days ago. I should have dragged you with me, far from Atiarav and far from all his madness. Or I should have left you to your fate. But no. I stayed behind like an imbecile and here we are again. Right back at the beginning.”

  “Ucal...”

  “He's not here. He's either dead, or he has escaped. Pray he has managed to leg it.”

  A shadow passed over them.

  Yellow Eye was standing there in front of them, with a demonic grimace painted on his face. He let out a sinister squawk. Half of his face had been disfigured by fire. The memory of the fire of Saus had not yet healed on his skin.

  Sons of Sabre, welcome back. I can assure you this time, things will be very different. I know how to treat dogs like you. His thoughts bombarded their brains. He looked at Marrhit insistently.

  Here you are, chosen son of my fierce enemy.

  Yellow Eye signaled to the captain of the praetorians who then approached holding a hammer and two giant square pegs in his hand, about a hand's width long. Marrhit spat on the ground in a sign of disgust and to keep the fear at bay. Selot didn't dare think about what would happen. The Xàmvetem with the uneven irises sneered with satisfaction. As two guards held Marrhit's legs and another three kept his torso still, the captain drove the peg through his feet to the wooden base. Marrhit screamed out in unbearable pain.

  Yellow Eye nodded, satisfied.

  I imagine it will be more difficult to escape this time.

  He went away, leaving Marrhit's strangled cries invade the encampment. Marrhit turned towards Selot, his face masked in suffering. He was asking for help. Selot grabbed his mind suddenly and together they activated the mechanism that commanded the pain. They managed it within a few minutes. When the level of the pain had subsided, they concentrated on slowing down the blood flow. For as long as there were metallic obje
cts in the flesh, there was nothing else they could do. At certain moments, the pain went past Marrhit's ability to dominate it and transformed itself into fits which rose up from his feet and went through his body up to his head. Selot was always with him in those moments, contending the pain with his intervention. This necessitated him to create the same pain within his own body, so his mind could follow his brother's body and reduce it. The praetorian guards observed them. They watched as the grimaces of pain formed on their faces at the same time. They knew what was happening. They had been trained to know what a Vetem was. It had been they themselves who had referred to others of the events in Saus. Above all, Yellow Eye would not tolerate any errors when it came to dealing with the two young Vetems.

  “Thank you,” Marrhit managed to say, shaking. Selot took his eyes away. A strange word from his brother's mouth.

  “You should curse me, instead. You're here because of me.”

  Marrhit took a deep breath, to keep the pain under control.

  “I wanted to enter the world, not stay above it,” he answered, with his voice almost calm now. “I believe I understand what it means now.” Selot turned his head to look at him. Marrhit even managed to smile.

  “Even if we don't have much time left...”

  Hours went by and then dawn came. The pain had not allowed either one to sleep. The sun rose quickly on the horizon and began burning the day. Marrhit was dry with thirst and he was still losing blood. An entire platoon of praetorian guards guarded them, keeping due distance as instructed by the General. Midday came. The sun struck like a hammer on that dusty square of dirt. The praetorians observed them with maximum attention, sheltered from the burning sun under a pergola covered by canvas.

  The captain of the praetorians approached, an expression of cruelty on his face. Marrhit faced him with his stare. Yellow Eye was really very powerful. That man was completely under his control and in that moment, he was his eyes and his mouth. A puppet controlled by his will from afar. The captain had a large strip of wet leather in his hand. He tied it around Marrhit's neck.

  “When you are ready to talk to us about where to find your father, you only need make a sign and we will understand. If you decide to the contrary, I wish you a very long death. We will find a way to make it even more atrocious. I will return every hour, with a little present for you. If you decide to die without talking, we will start with your brother. Though we will leave him alive for much longer. I am growing weary with waiting for Sabre. You will tell me where to go and find him.” Yellow Eye spoke through the captain's mouth.

  Marrhit bore his look and words without moving a muscle. The leather strip with the heat of the day would dry and eventually tighten very slowly, until he died by suffocation before evening. Selot wriggled with all his might.

  “Leave him alone, damn it!” he screamed out desperately. “Leave him alone, he doesn't know where our father is! You don't know anything about us, it's been years since anyone has heard from him! Can you hear me, Yellow Eye! Coward, face us as equals, why do you need to hide like that? You are only a bloodthirsty madman!”

  The man left with a demoniac sneer.

  “Selot...” Marrhit's voice was very calm. “Do not be anguished. We made our move. We were wrong. It will all be over for me by evening. Think about gathering your strength and concentration for yourself.”

  After an hour, the cord was all dry and was beginning to squeeze. Marrhit began coughing out of tension. The scorching heat was unbearable now. His lips were completely dry. The captain arrived once more, with Yellow Eye's possessed smile on his face.

  Selot thought he'd only ever seen that Xàmvetem by night. He thought perhaps it had been a problem with the light of the sun. Or maybe not. He made another hypothesis. He thought back to when he'd interacted with him. He began thinking of Yellow Eye differently to how he had up to now.

  The captain had a giant iron in his hand, the end of which was a red-hot plate.

  “It's hot today, isn't it?” he said cruelly as he pressed the plate into Marrhit's chest, leaving it there for a long time until it sizzled and the smell of burnt flesh reached his comrades too. Selot screamed like mad for them to leave him alone, yanking at the chains furiously, but the more he screamed the more enjoyment the captain seemed to have. His screams combined with those atrocious screams of Marrhit. Some praetorians, being used to all, started to draw in longer breaths. When the captain left, Selot's eyes were streaked with tears. Marrhit grunted in order to bear all that befell his body. His mouth trembled painfully, his head and shoulders too. He regained control and with incredible effort turned to his brother, drawing out his words between stifled breaths.

  “Keep calm, Selot. Now listen to me,before I can no longer speak. Help me die with dignity. I don't want to go crazy, I don't want to beg for my life, nor wet myself. I don't want to squeal like a pig to slaughter.” Selot made himself stop crying. At the same time, he intercepted the terrible burn on his brother's chest and was helping him face the pain. Marrhit proceeded.

  “I know it will be worse for you than for me. You must tolerate watching...this; then it will be your turn and you will be alone. But you are stronger than me and you can do this. I beg of you, do this for me.” Selot couldn't do it. He couldn't believe it would end like this. He couldn't admit it. He couldn't accept it. He had to think. He had to do it quickly. After another hour, the cord around Marrhit's neck would dig into his flesh. Marrhit was on the edge. He was wheezing. The scorching sun of that day was accelerating the tightening of the leather and would probably kill him well before dusk. Selot wouldn't let go, not even for an instant, recreating in himself the echo of his pain to help him dominate it, and regulate his breathing as much as possible. He prayed ceaselessly.

  “I...you...n..” Marrhit gasped, but he couldn't go on. By now, he was unable to speak. Selot cried. “Leave your eyes transparent for me, Marrhit. Let me see you.”

  Marrhit had a flame in his eyes. He nodded painfully and for the first time he offered up his eyes.

  I would like to know how to pray like you, little brother.

  They entered into the state of Baìah suddenly without even thinking about it. It was a surprise for both of them. They'd never considered rendering open their reciprocal stares and they didn't think it would provoke the spirit of Baìah so easily. Selot felt energy enter his body. The symbol of the pendant given to him by Estela flared up and it was as if he were carrying it at his neck in that moment. It moved something between his heart and his brain. He couldn't give up. He neared his brother's throat and began producing saliva which his thirst would allow, to dampen the piece of leather. The praetorians looked on from afar, astounded. What was that prisoner doing? A kiss to his companion's neck? The guffaws began and the vulgar banter as well. Marrhit pulled away with difficulty and looked at him.

  What the devil are you doing, I asked you to help me die with dignity, damn it...he protested.

  “I've got other plans,” Selot cut him short, and went back to secreting saliva on his neck.

  The praetorian guards started making unequivocal gestures, mocking and laughing coarsely at them, with the most obscene phrases a military group can possibly make in situations such as these.

  After a good while, the saliva produced had its desired effect and Marrhit had his throat loosened somewhat. He coughed and spat. Though he was at the end of his strength. His thirst, the blood loss, and the terrible wounds had all weakened him. Selot bit on an arm doggedly, until it bled. Then he passed his arm to Selot.

  “Drink.”

  “Selot...it's all futile...”

  “Don't you understand, Marrhit? We are taking it for granted that Yellow Eye is stronger than us. This is our greatest mistake. A giant error. We are committing this error, not for what we truly know about him, but because your father wrote in a letter that he is 'beyond your reach', but not beyond 'our reach'. Sabre didn't know we would be together. Think about it. Yellow Eye has always outwitted us, it's true, but h
e has never defeated us in an encounter. He has never faced us. Haven't you noticed, he always sends others in his place? Don't you remember in Saus, he sent his praetorian guard against us, but he stayed back, out of harm's way? He didn't want to face us together. After our first incursion at his camp he began fighting you but as soon as I intervened, he changed tactic. Think about it, Marrhit. Even this time, he showed himself to us only after we regained consciousness and we were completely unarmed. We are not his victims. We are victims to what we think of him.” He gnawed at his arm, where the blood had coagulated. Fresh blood poured out.

  “Drink,” the brother insisted once more. “I need your strength.”

  Marrhit opened his eyes wide. Under normal circumstances, it would seem inconceivable, but at that very moment, it didn't make sense to split hairs. He placed his lips on Selot's wound and began to suck. The blood entered his throat and slid down. He felt that it did him well and he kept on sucking repeatedly, biting at Selot's wound with his canines to widen it and make more blood flow out. Selot clenched his teeth.

  The derisory banter of the praetorians was unleashed and obscene. They were losing their rationality. Some of them experienced disgust for what they considered acts against nature. The captain came, wearing a ferocious expression. All became silent in an instant, standing to attention. They knew exactly when he was possessed by Yellow Eye and they were terrorized. Nobody dared breathe. Selot distanced himself from Marrhit straight away. The captain held vises with nails embedded on the inside of them, in his hand. Yellow Eye had chosen this successive torture for Marrhit. He neared the two Vetems with his inhumane expression. Grabbing Marrhit by the hair, he yanked his head back.