Trials (6 page)

“The war in the great continent is already a fact, and that pleases me. Now Rogdon must fall, that’s where the Marked and his companion the White Soul are to be found.”

“Rogdon shall fall, my Lady, the plan will work.”

“I want Rogdon overcome, defeated, destroyed, completely razed to the ground. Fields, villages and cities must be left desolate, their army annihilated.”

Isuzeni nodded, letting his analytical mind go over the most likely scenarios for the development of the war.

“Rogdon won’t be able to withstand both invasions at once,” he reasoned.

“On the other hand, I want the Norghanians, just as much as the Noceans, to reach the end of the war very weakened. The losses for both armies must be many. The greater the number, the greater my satisfaction. So it shall be, shall it not, Counselor?”

“So it shall be, my Lady. Rogdon will fall, and in the process both invading kingdoms will suffer considerable losses. My agents are in a position to guarantee it. It’s a considerably complex task, but we’ll make it happen.”

“I will only accept absolute success. Don’t disappoint me this time, or it will be the last thing you do,” the Empress threatened him with her stern, velvety voice.

Isuzeni raised his gaze until he met the Lady’s lethal black eyes. He read in them an unshakeable yearning for power, and an absolute cruelty. If he did not achieve what his Lady asked of him, he would not survive. He had to bring about what his Lady had requested without the slightest error. He nodded and bowed, fully aware that his life hung by a thread and that if he was not already dead it was because she still needed him to achieve the destruction of the three great kingdoms of the continent of Tremia. All his years of faithful service, his advice at critical times, the winning strategies and the complicated plans which had been successful: all these counted for nothing.

Nothing moved the Dark Lady, her black heart took nothing into account. Only success, the achievement of her wishes, mattered. Isuzeni knew that this icy woman would tear his heart out of his chest with her own bare hands if he failed again. When he straightened up, he saw the Square of Triumph, packed with the Empress’s terrible regiments in perfect, symmetrical formations. An amazing spectacle under the martial beat of the war drums. The entire square was filled with warriors in their polished armor and tall standards of different colors.

Impressive, truly impressive. The regiments representing the seventy-five thousand soldiers, the hosts of the Dark Lady, ready for action at nothing more than a sign from their Empress. An incredible and frightening spectacle, particularly for those who dare get in the way of the Dark Lady’s wishes
.

“One thing more, Counselor.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“There’s been something new… something unexpected. A new vision… about the Marked.”

“Absolutely new?” Isuzeni asked, deeply intrigued. “Or a variation on the previous visions?”

“Absolutely new.”

“Then has the premonition, the fate, varied?”

“No, the final vision is still the same, but something has changed. Something new is going to happen, something we’d never before witnessed or even known about.”

“Perhaps we might use it to our advantage,” ventured Isuzeni.

“Perhaps. In any case it’s a new factor which has come up in the game of fate. A factor we hadn’t counted on but which, my intuition tells me, is going to be very important, decisive even.”

“What is that factor, your Majesty?”

“An arcane and profoundly ancient power has awakened. A power which has remained hidden… buried… for a long time and which is coming to the surface now. That’s what I’ve been able to gather from the
Premonition
.”

“Is this factor in our favor or against?”

“To begin with, against. For now, that power is in the hands of the Marked.”

“I see. That might explain why he has been able to survive our attacks.”

“It might be. But guesses are irrelevant, only facts are significant. And the fact is that he’s still alive.”

“What has the Skull of Destiny shown you, your Majesty?”

“It has shown me a shapeless, blurred vision. In it I could see the Marked and a young woman being united, linked by an arcane power transmitted through certain medallions of great power.”

“Medallions?”

“Yes, arcane medallions, objects imbued with great power. A very ancient power. A power I want.”

“Did you see the face of the Marked?”

“No. Once more the Skull refuses to show it to me, denies me his identity. But in essence I know it well, it was certainly him, it was the Marked. That much I was able to grasp clearly. I felt it in my guts. The same age, the same inner power which I felt and recognized immediately. The young woman on the other hand also possesses an arcane power, one different from that of the Marked, very different, but equally tangible. They both have the Gift, and they were both manipulating very ancient and powerful medallions.”

“What do you wish me to do?”

“Now, more than ever, it’s vital to kill the Marked and get hold of that medallion of power. Kill him and those with him. But be careful. With that power in his hands, with the medallions, they might become extremely powerful.”

Isuzeni looked down at the square. Somehow, looking at the Empress’s armies, it seemed to him that no arcane power was strong enough to stop her. The Marked would die, and so would anyone with him.

“I’ll see about that, my Lady.”

“This new power in the game worries me greatly. When I caught its essence I could feel how strong and ancient it is. I don’t know where it comes from or why it’s interfering with my plans, but it must be contained. It’s a power I want for myself. The Marked can’t be allowed to make use of it. In the end it might be the means by which he can defeat me. I must obtain this new source of great power, take it away from the Marked, and if it’s from the cold fingers of his corpse, so much the better.”

“The Marked shall die and the medallions of power shall be yours, your Majesty.”

“Isuzeni, bring me their hearts on a platter.”

“I will, my Lady.”

“I want to taste the flavor of their souls, eat their hearts while they’re still warm. Kill them!”

The Empress turned and left the balcony, her long cloak trailing in her wake. Behind her the formidable army stood to attention and presented arms amid the cheers and applause of the fevered audience.

Amtoko was stirring the contents of the great copper cauldron over the fire, heaving energetically with the enormous wooden spoon. With a circular motion, using all the strength her lean body could give her, which was far from what it had once been, she went on stirring the thick ochre liquid.

“It’s nearly done, a few more ingredients and the spell will be ready for use at midnight,” she announced, pushing back her long white hair.

A couple of sizeable bubbles appeared in the midst of the liquid surface. When they burst they filled the dark cave, the home of the hermit Norriel Witch, with an unpleasant odor of sulfur.

“Oops, I don’t think this perfume suits the refined atmosphere of my elegant dwelling,” she laughed under her breath.

She went across to a set of wooden shelves leaning against the wall of rock, on which stood several earthen jars whose contents Amtoko made sure were unmistakably identified with primitive runes in red. She picked a ceramic bowl and took a grey mineral from one of the jars.

“Yes, this is the final component, the one to give consistency to the spell and allow me to see what I want.”

She went back to the cauldron, poured the contents of the bowl into it and went on stirring with renewed vigor.

“It’s nearly done, my dear puss. Soon we’ll have news from our brave young friend.”

As if she understood what her mistress was saying, the big black panther came up to her, pacing with graceful stride by a plain wooden shelf where dozens of flasks and bottles stored all kinds of substances, both vegetable and animal, some of them even human. When she reached the cauldron her dangerous feline eyes looked first at her mistress and then immediately towards the bright entrance of the cave. A roar of warning filled the cave.

“Yes, my dearie, we have visitors, you can feel them, can’t you? You needn’t worry, they’re friends, good friends. I’ll be safe.”

The panther growled again and came closer to her mistress.

Amtoko stroked her velvety back and big head. This was an unequaled companion, a friendly protector, and faithful like no other. And for that reason the old silver-haired witch adored her.

“We’d better tidy up a little. It would be very rude of us not to clean our humble abode for our visitors.”

The great panther walked slowly to the entrance, with the clear intention of receiving the visitors. With a grin on her wrinkled face, Amtoko grabbed the horns of the male goat which she had sacrificed some hours before in the preparatory ritual and dragged it deeper into the cave, as far as a bend where it was not visible from the entrance. Then she gathered up several toads with poisonous skin and put them into a jar.

“Each time I find it harder to make this place decent, and what’s worse, I’ve been getting too many visitors lately. What became of the time when not getting a single visit in a whole season was the norm? At this rate I’ll have to charge for my services like a peddler. Aren’t I supposed to be feared and hated as a Witch? Nobody would guess, would they? A body can’t live in peace any longer.”

She looked around the cauldron to check that there was nothing which might arouse fear or discomfort in her visitors.

“It’s hard enough to practice magic as it is without having to cope with other people’s fears and interruptions and all the odd things they do on top of it. Isn’t that so, Missie? It’s a real shame we have to pretend, but we both know they wouldn’t understand our rituals, or the twisting paths that lead to clairvoyance. Besides, one little animal sacrifice and they go crazy… They don’t understand us, my little one.”

The panther looked at her mistress and roared.

The roar echoed against the walls of the cave as far as the entrance, where the three visitors had stopped and were waiting for the witch, with respect and fear.

She looked at the cauldron and nodded.

“Right. While I take care of the visitors the base for the spell-enhancer will finish setting.”

Amtoko hurried to greet the visitors, not wishing her beloved panther to make them nervous.

“Good day to you, my distinguished countrymen, “the Witch said in welcome. “To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?”

“Unexpected, Amtoko? You’ve never had an unexpected visit, dear Oracle,” Auburu said, smiling broadly as she held out her arms.

Amtoko hugged the matriarch and leader of the Bikia. She was wearing a long woolen tunic with simple green embroidery, and her long blonde hair, which reached down to her waist, was gathered in a single thick braid. The young leader’s usual serious manner was softened by the affectionate smile she gave the older woman. Their embrace was firm and honest. Both women felt deep respect and affection for one another.

“You know me so well, Matriarch, I won’t deny that a starling whispered to me that you were coming.”

“A starling? I rather believe your magic allows you to know everything all of us do, even before we do it. You don’t fool me, Silver Witch,” said Althor, the octogenarian Master Smith.

“Master Smith, you’re always so sharp and so observant. I know you still have the spirit of a young boy, even though you’re past your eightieth year. How could you bring yourself to climb up here at your age? If you’d summoned me I would gladly have gone down to the village. I like to go down every now and then to see how our beloved Orrio is doing.”

“We came ourselves, to avoid unnecessary gossip,” Master Warrior Gudin explained. “The situation is beginning to turn complicated, and we decided to come to you before we discussed our possible courses of action at the Council of the Twelve.”

Amtoko looked at the scarred warrior, a demigod among the Bikia. He was a great warrior with a noble heart. Amtoko knew him well.

“I see that it’s time for prudence. I must say that your view of the situation is correct. Let’s sit by the oak and talk, it’s too beautiful a day to waste inside the cave, Ikzuge is shining today with heartfelt force.”

The four sat beside the great oak on ancient marble rocks whose surface was well-polished by use. The great black panther sat down warily beside her mistress.

“If you’ll allow me, Amtoko,” Auburu said, frankly, as was her custom, “I’d like to talk about the nub of this complex situation we’re involved in, without beating about the bush.”

“Of course. Go ahead, my dear.”

“Well now, these are turbulent times. Rogdon has been attacked and the war has begun in the west. Unfortunately this war will affect us whether we want it to or not, or at least that’s my belief. Anyway, and as might be expected, it’s provoking plenty of arguments in the tribe. Views among our people are very varied and opposed. That’s why we wanted to talk to you in private.”

Amtoko nodded.

“Rogdon has sent us heralds,” the young leader explained. “King Solin has asked all the Norriel tribes for help, along with some others from the highlands and the coast. He’s offering to pay in gold if we join his army in the defense of the Kingdom.”

“I see… and you, Auburu, our young Matriarch and Leader of the Bikia tribe of the Norriel, what do you think is best for the tribe?”

“It’s a difficult decision to make. If we ally ourselves with Rogdon and go to war, many Norriel will die. I’m not interested in gold. I don’t think greed should be our guide. There’s no guarantee of victory either, the payment might not come in any case. My duty is to my people, to their wellbeing and prosperity. Going to war is never a good option. Iram our Mother Goddess has taught us so. We should think it over and make a carefully considered decision, weighing up all the alternatives.”

“And what do you think, my dear Master Warrior?” the Silver Witch said, looking at Gudin. “This is your area of expertise, and your experience and skill in these matters is invaluable.”

“From the news we’ve received, Rogdon finds itself in a very dire situation, I would venture to say a critical one. They’re being attacked from the South by the Noceans and from the north-west by the Norghanians. Stopping either of those powerful and warlike nations would seem extremely difficult to me, so that stopping a joint or simultaneous invasion by both armies would be practically unthinkable.”

“Yes, I agree with that,” Althor interrupted. “In all my years, and they are many, I’ve taken part in and witnessed several wars, but none of such magnitude. Armed conflicts between nations have been many, but those confrontations never reached a point like this. Never have two such powerful nations attacked a third simultaneously. The consequences will be catastrophic. Rogdon will perish, it’s just a matter of time. The enemy outnumbers them, I have no doubt about that.”

“Master Smith Althor has a well formed opinion, his voice is that of experience. He’s spent many years forging swords and chain-mail for our warriors, his view must be taken into account,” Amtoko said, looking at the old steel-smith.

“In that case, do you recommend that we shouldn’t fight beside Rogdon, given that they have no option of victory?” Master Warrior Gudin asked, worried.

“Oh, I haven’t said that at all. I simply state that Althor’s perception of the present situation is correct. As things stand right now, Rogdon will fall.”

“I don’t understand,” Gudin asked, frowning. “Are you saying I’m right, then?”

The Witch smiled fondly at the hardened warrior.

“Thank goodness warriors don’t guide the fate of our tribe,” and she smiled again with her eyes on Auburu.

“What Amtoko wants us to see is that the present course of events entails the destruction of Rogdon, but events might change and with them the fate of our neighbors of the lowlands.”

“You seem to be reading my mind, Auburu,” the Witch said, smiling warmly at the Norriel leader.

“We’d be part of those events? Our intervention in the conflict, I mean, if it came to that?” Gudin asked.

“Yes, indeed, a crucially important part, my dear warrior.”

“Hmm… but you’re not telling us the whole story, are you, Silver Witch?” Althor interrupted. “Can you guarantee that if we take part, we’ll come out victorious? That Rogdon will be saved?”

Amtoko laughed softly. “There you’ve got me, old fox,” she said. “No, I can’t guarantee it. In fact, I can’t even guarantee that if we don’t take part in the war, Rogdon will perish as a result. What I’ve been able to discern through my power is that if we do participate, our role will be very important in the events to come. Take into account that I can’t see the future, only the immediate present and some of the tomorrow which is there around us.
Us
, not Rogdon.”

“And if we don’t take part, will Rogdon fall” Althor insisted.

“Most likely, yes. The threads of destiny have shown me different forces and events which are on the move right now and might have a significant impact on the lowland kingdom’s future. We, the Norriel, are one of those forces. This conversation we’re having right now is of critical importance. As far as my power allows me to see, if we Norriel don’t act, Rogdon will most likely fall. Even though there’s another force which might still change that fate. All the same, in my humble opinion it’s highly unlikely.

“Therefore we can be sure of two things,” Althor said. “On the one hand, if we don’t help Rogdon it will almost certainly fall. On the other hand, if we help them there’s no guarantee that we’ll triumph, they might equally be defeated. Is that so, my old friend?”

“It is. Although let me state that the first option is nearly a certainty and the second is really the toss of a coin.”

“Toss of a coin?” Gudin said. “Aren’t you crediting us with far more value than we really have? I don’t see how our participation can balance out the fight. The invading armies are still more numerous and powerful than any that an alliance between the Norriel and the Kingdom of Rogdon might recruit.”

“Using cold reason, adding up figures? You’re right. I won’t argue the case with you. You’ve lived through skirmishes, battles and wars, and you’re absolutely right. All the same, there are more powerful forces at work than simple numbers: forces we can’t see but which are acting both for and against our interests. Hidden powers, which could unleash events that might bring to an end even empires. My Gift helps me to perceive them. And in this case, let me assure you, Master Warrior, the threads of destiny allow me to weigh up the great impact we, the tiny Norriel, will have in the outcome of this war which threatens half the continent. In one way or another.”

“I wasn’t expecting such uncompromising and determined answers, Amtoko. You lay a great weight on our people’s shoulders,” Auburu said in annoyance. She was looking more and more worried.

“You came for my advice, and that’s what you get. I can only put forward to you what my power allows me to perceive. It’s never the whole view, but it’s not often wrong. Without the Norriel, Rogdon is practically lost. With our intervention they might be saved, although there are no guarantees. Many and powerful are the forces influencing the threads of destiny, and the results of their acts aren’t yet visible to me.”

“In that case, if we don’t have guarantees, why risk the lives of our people?” Auburu asked.

“I feel the same,” Gudin said. “This war among the three great kingdoms doesn’t concern us, so why take part? They won’t come here, to the highlands, they’re not that interested in us, and they know we’d defend these lands to the death, to the last man. The Noceans won’t come, I’m sure of that, there are no riches here, they don’t like the climate, the land doesn’t suit them. Perhaps the Norghanians would, but it would mean too high a cost for too little plunder. I doubt whether they’d bother. Here in the highlands, with all the Norriel tribes united, we can hold out. We’ve done it before. They won’t be able to defeat us in the mountains and rocky passes, even though we’re fewer in number.”