Conflict (22 page)

“What are your orders, your Majesty?” Drocus asked.

“You’ll defend both fortresses to the last man. If we’re attacked, we’ll have to resist on the walls or die. We can’t go out into the field and fight divided against two armies which both outnumber us. The enemy hosts are vast and our army, although brave, is far smaller. Be prudent, remember we’re still not at war, so let’s not declare it by mistake.” He gave Gerart an accusing glance, and the young man looked away, hurt. “If we’re provoked, hold stoically, don’t retaliate under any circumstances until you receive my order. Is that absolutely clear?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Drocus said as the others nodded.

“I’m going to try to talk one last time with the Norghanians as well as the Noceans. I’ll send the ambassadors as a final attempt to reach a diplomatic agreement, although I fear it will be in vain in the present situation. I must try to stop this insanity by whatever means before it starts. I won’t stop at any cost, even though I have to swallow my pride. The lives of many honest Rogdonians are at stake: men, women and children, hardworking and peaceful, who don’t deserve to suffer the horrors of a war. As King of Rogdon and leader of the nation, it’s my duty to defend them, each and every one of them, and defend them I will. By the Light, I will!”

“I think I speak for everybody when I say, your Majesty, that we’re entirely at the service of the nation, whatever the need may be,” Mirkos put in.

“Mirkos, my old friend, you speak from the heart like the King’s faithful Battle Mage you are, and I appreciate it, even more now in this hour of dire need for the Kingdom. Mark my words, I need Silanda to stand. If the Noceans penetrate through the south, they’ll get here to Rilentor. We can’t stop them in the open and we’ll lose half the kingdom. I’m deeply worried by his Sorcerers, the evil fame of Zecly and his dark arts is well-known. You must fight them with all your strength. I know fighting and bloodshed are things you loathe, Mirkos, but if we don’t stop them they’ll spread death and destruction across all the southern lands of the kingdom and destroy everything. Like a plague of locusts, they’ll lay waste to the whole South.”

“Don’t worry, your Majesty, for all his aches and pains this old Mage still has an ace or two up his sleeve. If Zecly or his minions attack Silanda they’ll have this amiable Mage’s fury to contend with. And you know what they say about the fury of an amiable man…”

“Thank you, Mirkos. You’ve never failed me in the past, and I know you won’t fail me now, with danger so imminent and so overwhelming for the Kingdom.”

“And what are we going to do about the Ice Mages of the Norghanians, your Majesty?” Counselor Urien asked with a heavy heart.

“You must hold until Haradin is recovered. Once he is, I’ll send him to you to help in the defense of the city. Until then you’ll have to endure against the evil arts of those Ice Mages of the North as best you can.”

“We will, Father, don’t worry,” Gerart said, sure of himself.

“The Norghanians will test your mettle. Don’t disappoint me again, son…”

“I won’t, Father, rest assured.”

Solin, visibly restless, turned to the Queen, and his gaze lingered on her. His expression turned introspective, then severe.

“Difficult times are coming to Rogdon, and a black storm is approaching to darken our country’s horizon. Our future is uncertain and somber. We mustn’t be led by false hopes. War is practically inevitable at this point. We must prepare to defend our country. We must prepare to give our lives for our home.

“We must fight or die!”

King Solin drew Comet, the sword of the Rogdonian Kings, of which it was said that it had been forged from the metal found in a comet which had fallen on Rogdonian land one night during an eclipse several centuries before. He raised it to the sky and cried:

“For Rogdon!”

They all replied in unison:

“For Rogdon!”

The days went by at dizzying speed for Aliana, prisoner of the Red Usik in the village at the top of the giant thousand-year-old trees. She felt like a bird caged among the clouds. The first few days had been truly horrible: on the one hand not knowing what those savages had in store for her, and on the other the unbearable vertigo which assailed her constantly.

They kept her locked in a gloomy building of wood and steel, one of the few in which metal had been used. Seeing other wretched souls in there with her, she guessed it was a prison, hence the metal reinforcements. The prisoners belonged for the most part to races she did not know; she could only manage to recognize some red-skinned Masig, and several Noceans by their brown complexion. Unfortunately no one in the gloomy hall spoke the Unified Language of the West, so she could not communicate with them. This left her nerves on edge, because she was full of unanswered questions. In all there were more than thirty prisoners locked up with her in a very small dark space, like animals. The stench almost made her vomit.

On the third day of incarceration, Scar appeared with the hateful rope and dragged her out by the neck. The Usik walked nonchalantly along the platforms and swaying catwalks between branches and giant lianas as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Aliana on the other hand had to throw herself down on the floor every couple of steps as a result of the paralyzing attacks of vertigo she suffered. She felt dizzy and helpless all the time. She could not understand how the Usik could walk unaffected by the dizzying height.

With characteristic Usik kindness Scar pulled, pushed and kicked her along catwalks and structures which circled the giant trees. The children insulted her, hit her and pulled her hair. All the women and children had straight black hair, and the warriors’ heads were clean-shaven. The women’s clothes had surprised her: they wore tanned leather garments, in reality no more than loincloths. But on their backs, like birds, they bore great wings made with the huge feathers of the giant eagles. Although decorative, they gave the impression that these women could take flight at any moment; it was an extraordinary costume.

The culture of this tribe seemed to revolve around the huge birds and their villages among the clouds. Aliana guessed their religion probably did too. Scar dragged her to a great round building in the shape of a fig, supported by several enormous branches which belonged to two trees facing each other. Seen from above, the building seemed to float in the air between both trees as if by magic.

I’ve no idea what’s waiting for me in there, but the building is truly exceptional
, she thought in astonishment.

Scar led her inside. As she went in, Aliana was assailed by an onslaught of nerves as if she had received an invisible whip-lash. The interior looked like a ritual or ceremonial hall. Numerous wooden poles supported the ceiling, and on them were painted strange symbols and quaint representations of birds, which she imagined must be Usik gods.

A great wooden totem with a bird’s head rose in the center of the hall. The orange beak was clearly recognizable, and the plumage had been carved on the pole with great care. Somewhat to the rear, three other similar effigies seemed to watch the first, like guardians. In the shade of each totem was a Usik dressed in a long tunic completely lined with feathers from the giant birds. They also wore masks with great beaks hiding their faces.
Shamans or priests,
thought Aliana,
and they’re waiting for me.
She was scared. It did not bode well.

Around the hall the tribal elders stared at her from where they sat on the floor, colorful blankets beneath them. Their long white hair framed dry, wrinkled faces; eyes with the brightness of wisdom watched her attentively. Brusquely, Scar made her kneel before the shaman at the first totem.

From her kneeling position, with Scar beside her pulling on the rope, Aliana raised her eyes to see something that petrified her. Two Usik warriors were carrying away another prisoner, a Masig, from a table of volcanic rock behind the totem. From the extensive blood stain she could make out, she had no doubt the man had been sacrificed. She realized the table was really a sacrificial altar. She was in deep trouble. The building must be a ritual chamber where they sacrificed humans. She began to tremble with fear.

The shaman in front of her wore the claw of a giant bird hanging around his neck. He probably was the religious leader of this community. He began to talk in the characteristic Usik singsong, but she understood nothing. Her anxiety increased. She was in real danger, and she had a feeling something terrible was going to happen to her.

The shaman turned to Scar, and both held a short but intense conversation. Aliana could not catch anything of what they were saying, but she had the distinct impression that her life was at stake. When the conversation ended, two warriors came from the far end of the hall with a young woman. Like Aliana, she had a rope round her neck.

Another unfortunate victim, like me
.

But when she came and stood beside her, Aliana noticed that the young woman was not a prisoner from another tribe as she had thought, but a Usik. She was thin, and her straight black hair fell to her shoulders. Aliana could not see her face as she walked with her eyes on the floor. Then the shaman spoke to her and she looked up, revealing her face. Her eyes were a soft green and her features, despite the greenish shade of her skin, had a delicate beauty. They were gentle, and made her look very young. Aliana was surprised by the delicate beauty of this girl, who seemed to be the same age as herself.

What could this girl have done if even though she’s one of their own, they have her guarded? And by two warriors no less!

The shaman turned to the young Usik once again. Without replying, she turned to address Aliana:

“Great Shaman want to know why you on sacred mountain.”

With the shock of hearing her own language, Aliana almost lost her balance. She recovered and looked at the girl, who was watching her with a melancholy expression on her face.

“Someone who speaks my language! I can hardly believe it!” She smiled nervously. “Hi, my name is Aliana.”

“I Asti,” the Usik replied with a slight bow.

The shaman said something at this point, clearly impatient.

“Better answer, Great Shaman no patience,” the girl said.

“Oh… all right… Tell him we were looking for… one of ours.”

The girl translated Aliana’s words into the singsong language. The shaman became agitated, so that his feather suit shimmered as he spoke to the group of elders. After listening to him they began to nod and whisper gravely. The shaman spoke again, looking towards Aliana.

“Great Shaman ask what man, he important?”

“Tell him yes… he was… a very important ma— I mean shaman of our tribe…”

Asti translated and the Shaman gave some kind of explanation to the elders. He turned to Aliana again, and the odd interrogation continued.

“Great Shaman say foreigner important, many blue soldiers, good soldiers. What he want in Mountain of Ancestors?”

Aliana puzzled over her answer. She did not wish to offend this man and end up on the sacrificial altar. Lying would not be a good idea, but telling the whole truth might be even more dangerous. Something in between would be best.

“Tell him our shaman went in search of the spirit.”

When Asti translated this, a flutter went through the hall. All the elders began to whisper, while the Shaman and his three acolytes gestured angrily, their feather suits glittering. This scared her. Had she made a mistake and said the wrong thing?

The reply was not long in coming. The Shaman barked a sentence and pointed at her with the claw which hung from his neck.

“How dare disturb rest of sacred spirit?” translated Asti.

“Tell him that… our shaman… wanted to learn from the spirit, gain knowledge.”

The Shaman came closer to Aliana and asked a question with an accusing finger raised.

“What happen sacred cave?” Asti said.

“We found our shaman there… and we left.”

“And spirit?” Asti translated.

Aliana thought before answering. These superstitious savages were not going to go up to the cavern to see for themselves, she could lie. She tried to take control of the situation.

“We didn’t see it... it didn’t appear before us,” she said.

Once again the reply gave rise to endless murmuring and separate conversations among the elders.

“You lie, sacred spirit watch cavern always,” Asti translated, lowering her gaze.

“Tell him we found our shaman injured, and we left without disturbing the spirit’s eternal rest.”

The Usik did not seem convinced by the explanation. He argued with his three acolytes, then explained his conclusions to the elders who once again agreed unanimously.

“You step on sacred mountain, punishment: death. You come with blue soldiers, punishment: death. You disturb rest sacred spirit, punishment...”

Aliana finished Asti’s sentence for her. “Death…”

“Yes, death.”

“Can’t you help me, stop them from sacrificing me somehow?” Aliana pleaded, knowing she was in a desperately dangerous situation.

“No. I sorry… shaman cruel…” Asti said.

“Here, on the sacrificial altar?” Aliana asked in terror, looking at the bloodstains on the black shape.

“No, worse, much worse…”

Night in the Usik prison had been a calvary for Aliana. Explicit scenes of unbearable torture had filled her mind, preventing her from getting the rest she so much longed for. She had barely slept.

The chants and drums arrived with the dawn, filling the atmosphere with gloom. When they heard, the prisoners with her all pressed themselves back against the farthest end of the prison fully aware that death was looming. They were horrified. Those poor unfortunates knew all about the sacrificial rites.

The door opened abruptly and three Usik warriors walked in threateningly, with weapons in their hands. After them came two women dressed in wings made of giant eagle feathers, carrying trays of food and fresh fruit. They placed them on the floor and left. Aliana’s mouth watered at the sight of the food, but nobody moved towards the trays. Fear was obvious in the eyes of the prisoners who surrounded her. The three warriors left, closing the door behind them, but still nobody touched the food. All remained at the far end of the prison, huddled together, some of them even trembling.

The drums sounded again, and chanting filled the heights with female voices, piercing and well-tuned.

Aliana stared at the delicious-looking food.
I’m condemned to death, what do I care what these poor wretches fear? I’d better eat and get my strength back for what could be on its way. I’m too weak to face any danger…

Without wasting any more time on thinking, she rushed to the food and began to eat like a hungry wild animal. The rich flavors and penetrating smells filled her senses. Nobody followed suit. All the prisoners were watching her in silence. When she was full, she sat with her back against the wall and gave herself up to the sleep the night had refused her. When she woke up, she saw another prisoner eating beside her. He belonged to a race she did not know, with tightly curled blond hair and pure ebony skin. The contrast was both attractive and shocking.

I see you couldn’t resist either, eh?

As if he had read her thoughts, the prisoner looked at her pleadingly and went on eating. When he finished he sat down beside her, resignation visible in his face, which surprised Aliana. The door opened suddenly and the three warriors came in with brutal determination. They stood in front of the two of them and without a word, dragged them out by their hair.

Then Aliana realized what she had done.

Argh! The food was a trap! That’s why nobody would touch it. I was a fool, now I’ll pay dearly for this… What an idiot I was!

She screamed with pain, but the Usik who was dragging her showed no compassion. Both prisoners were shoved and dragged to the other end of the tree-top village. Aliana had to stop several times, above all on the swaying catwalks where vertigo took over her body and it was impossible for her to go on. The warriors kept on dragging her by the hair without any compunction. They would not tolerate any pause.

When they reached the other end an immense platform opened before her eyes, supported on the branches of six of the giant trees. It was as big as the great square of the Temple of Tirsar in her longed-for home, and it rested on the crisscrossing branches as lightly as a leaf. On the platform a great multitude awaited them. There were at least a thousand there, probably more, and she could not understand how the platform did not sink with the weight of so many people.

On the outer rim stood a huge bird-totem, painted red and decorated with black feathers. Beside it waited the sinister shaman with the huge claw round his neck, wearing ceremonial garb. He was escorted by his three acolytes. On the uneven branches of the six trees, at different heights, were more spectators. Judging by the number of people gathered there, Aliana had the impression that the whole village had come to witness some kind of ceremony.