Trials (43 page)

“I’m glad to… to hear that… I had no news of him… whether he’d managed to get out of the Usik forests alive…” Aliana said, blushing and immediately trying to hide the fact.

Komir noticed this, and felt a certain uneasiness growing in his stomach.

“It was clumsy of me to fall into that Ilenian trap,” Haradin admitted. “The thing is, I didn’t see it coming. I was so close to getting what I’d spent so much time searching for that my eagerness got the better of me. A mistake which I can assure you I won’t ever make again.”

“What were you searching for that nearly cost you your life, Haradin?”

The Mage looked at Aliana’s medallion, and his eyes narrowed.

“That very special medallion hanging round your neck, my dear. I’d been on the trail of the Ilenian temples of the five elements for a long time, but I’d never managed to puzzle out where they were. I worked for years trying to find them, deciphering every hieroglyph, every Ilenian relic that had been found. I knew of their existence, but luck eluded me. At last, I found the trail which led me to the Temple of Earth in Usik territory. Where the Ilenians had buried one of their lords, together with an object of immense power… an object I wanted to possess… the Medallion of Earth. Which I now see is in your power…”

“If you want it, it’s yours, Haradin, but I believe the medallions choose their bearers, from what we’ve gathered. I don’t know whether it’ll let you manipulate it. Although as a great Mage, with immense power, you might be able to interact with the Ilenian artifact.”

Haradin remained thoughtful. He was looking at the medallion with his silvery gaze.

“Would you mind if I tried?” he asked at last. There was a touch of excitement in his voice.

“Of course, Haradin, please do. How could I refuse.”

The Mage smiled and reached out his hand to the medallion. Just before grasping it he stopped and closed his eyes.

“The medallion’s rejection is quite painful…” Aliana warned him.

A blue gleam issued from the Mage’s hand and enveloped the medallion. Haradin kept it up for an instant, as if analyzing the powerful object. A golden gleam from the medallion surprised everyone. Haradin stopped.

“You’re right, Aliana. The medallion rejects me, even using my power. I don’t believe I can use it… you can’t imagine how sad it makes my heart… I perceive the power within the medallion in all its immensity. I don’t understand why it refuses me. Since it’s an Object of Power, a Mage should be able to manipulate it… Why can you, a Healer, use it and yet I, a Mage, can’t? It doesn’t make sense… For what purpose did the Ilenians make these?”

Aliana, feeling uncomfortable, took a step to one side, her eyes on the floor.

“We… we believe we’re… the Bearers… that we’ve been chosen…”

“We?” Haradin said, arching his eyebrows.

“Komir is the Bearer of the Ether Medallion,” Aliana said, looking at the young Norriel, who showed Haradin his medallion. “Asti is the Bearer of the Fire Medallion,” she went on, pointing to the young Usik.

Asti showed her medallion to Haradin and said:

“I… Bearer.” Aliana smiled at her.

Haradin looked at both and was silent.

“You’re in possession of three Ilenian medallions…” he said, trying to take in that extraordinary fact. “That’s something unheard-of… It’s a discovery on an enormous scale, and with even greater repercussions.”

He went up to Komir and examined his medallion closely, without touching it. He used his power to analyze it, then rapidly did the same with Asti’s. When he had finished, he looked at Aliana and proclaimed:

“This is the greatest discovery of the last hundred years! More than that, the last millennium! Three of the very powerful medallions of the Lost Civilization, found and borne by three young people… It’s something of inconceivable importance. The repercussions will be unimaginable.”

“I’m sorry, Haradin, we don’t follow you…” said Aliana in puzzlement.

Haradin smiled and returned to Aliana.

“Chance doesn’t exist, my dear Aliana. If you’ve found these medallions and are in possession of them, it’s for some very powerful reason, Destiny, not chance. Otherwise it would be me holding your medallion, but it’s not. I’m better equipped to use it because my Gift is powerful, and not only that, I’ve studied the Ilenians and their magic. Even more, I found it first. But, did I manage to get hold of it? No, the Ilenian trap stopped me. Can I get hold of it for myself now, even though your generous heart offers it to me? Not that either, as we just saw. Not even with all my power and all my knowledge can I get it for myself. No, it’s not by chance, Aliana, it’s for a reason.”

“And what reason is that?” Komir asked. His expression was surly.

“I’m afraid, warrior, that’s a conversation for later, as there’s a lot to understand first. Now that I come to think about it, where are the other Temples, and how did you come to appear here? Where have you come from?”

Komir looked at the Mage, unsure whether to trust him or not. He did not know him, and he was a Mage… On the other hand, he was Aliana’s friend. Not a mere acquaintance, but someone closer, someone in her confidence. If Aliana trusted him, perhaps he should too. He decided to remain cautious, but in deference to Aliana, to tell the Mage everything they knew. He hoped he was not making a mistake. He remembered the negative reaction of Mirkos the Erudite when he refused to hand over the medallion to him.

“Follow me, Haradin. I’ll show you how we got here.”

Komir led him to the lower level and showed him the secret artifact. Kendas followed them in silence and went to stand behind Haradin. This made Komir feel more at ease. In case of trouble Kendas would help him. But the Mage was too taken up with the discovery to pose any danger. He was barely able to breathe with his excitement.

“It’s some kind of portal,” said Komir. “From what we gathered it joins the Ilenian temples. We don’t know if it goes any place else…”

“It’s…wonderful… the power of Ilenian magic is extraordinary.”

Haradin began to study the runes inscribed within the ring of the portal, completely forgetting about the two young men. Komir glanced at Kendas, and the Lancer shrugged. For some time the Mage went on studying the portal. He used his power on several occasions, so that a grey gleam ran through his body, something which Komir could see clearly.

“I believe the portal doesn’t only lead to the temples of the five elements but to other Ilenian secret places, according to what I can make out from the inscriptions… Frankly, it’s an amazing discovery, unbelievable. I’d give anything to decipher its way of working and be able to manipulate it, but I’m afraid that will take more time than I have available. Up there on the surface a terrible war is ravaging our beloved country, and unfortunately for all, Rogdon is in serious difficulties. I’d just come down here for a moment at the request of the brothers of the Temple of Light. I must go back at once to my duties as the King’s Battle Mage. I can’t stay and study this incredible object, or the wonders hidden behind it.”

“What’s the state of the war, sir?” Kendas asked. “I’m a Royal Lancer, I served with Prince Gerart.”

Haradin turned to look at him.

“I won’t lie to you, Lancer, the situation is really critical. Silanda has fallen. Norghanians and Noceans are moving towards Rilentor. Soon they’ll reach the capital. The battle for the city will be the bloodiest ever known in the West of Tremia.”

Kendas bent his head at the news.

As he was listening, Komir unconsciously stroked his medallion. A crystalline gleam lit up the chamber.

Haradin looked at Komir in puzzlement. “How did you do that, warrior?”

“I don’t really know… I was thinking the hall was very dark…”

“And the medallion created light…” Haradin said.

“Yes… but I don’t control it. It… it… has a life of its own…”

“An intelligence, rather,” Haradin said. “And tell me, Komir, are you aware of having the Gift?”

Komir shrugged.

“Yes… I am… it doesn’t make me especially happy… but I accept it…”

“Why do you say that? The Gift is a blessing, a gift from the gods.”

“Among my people, sorcerers aren’t much appreciated.”

“He’s a Norriel,” Kendas explained.

“A Norriel, you say? Curious… very curious… A Norriel with emerald eyes, possessing the Gift, and with an Ilenian medallion hanging round his neck. You’re not just any Norriel… How old are you?”

Komir, a little taken aback by the scrutiny, took a moment before answering.

“Nineteen.”

Haradin smiled and shook his head several times.

“Life is full of unimaginable surprises, there’s no doubt about that… How can this be possible? It can only be Destiny, there’s no other explanation. You, Komir, shouldn’t be here today. You should never have left the highlands. Our meeting should never have taken place.”

“Why do you say that, Mage?”

“Because I made it a condition that it should be so.”

Komir stared at Haradin without understanding.

Haradin looked him in the eyes and said:

“You and I already know each other, Komir, son of Mirta and Ulis, of the Bikia Tribe of the Norriel.”

Isuzeni was looking out at the sea from the top of the imposing cliff. It was so high it took his breath away. Dawn was breaking, and with the first light the High Priest of the Cult of Imork waited anxiously to catch a glimpse of the blue of the sea. An ocean he could not manage to make out, although he could hear the waves breaking violently at his feet. A dense white mist was reluctant to leave and covered everything his slanted eyes could reach.

“Mist…” he said, sounding disappointed. “Where’s the glorious dawn I’m waiting for?”

“It’s a phenomenon of these lands, my lord and master,” said a voice at his right. “Here in the East morning mists are common at this time of year. It will soon lift.”

Isuzeni looked at his acolyte and nodded.

“Let’s hope so, Narmos. Is everything ready?”

“Everything is ready, my lord, exactly as you ordered.”

“You’ve served me well, Narmos. I’m very pleased, in particular with the death of Albust, the Rogdonian Ambassador.”

“I live to serve my lord,” said the Dark Priest of the Order of Imork with a submissive bow.

Isuzeni turned to look proudly at the hundred Moyuki who accompanied him as his personal guard. With those warriors of the elite of the Dark Lady’s army at his side he always felt safe and well protected. They awaited his orders attentively. They wore dark scaled armor, and their faces were covered with masks of horror. Their presence alone made the hardiest men’s hearts shrink, which was a great satisfaction to Isuzeni.

The wind whipped his face and reminded him how exposed he was up there on the cliff. He rearranged his long tunic of rich fabric, somewhat thicker than the one he usually wore, as the temperature in that land was rather lower. He wondered if he might need a coat soon. He felt a little chilly and out of place.

“Cenem, come here,” he called his other acolyte.

“Lord and master…” Cenem said, inclining his body in a long bow.

“Has the area been cleared?”

“It has, Master. There’s not a living soul for several leagues around. I took charge of it personally.”

“That pleases me. We don’t want any witnesses who might see what they shouldn’t and tell others about it later.”

“There won’t be any, my lord. I used my necromantic power to leave some watchers… as living dead…”

“Very good,” said Isuzeni. With his two powerful acolytes beside him and the Moyuki behind, he feared nothing; nobody would dare oppose them and if they did, their souls would be consumed. “I must congratulate you too. The death of Ambassador Gelbin was a great move, critical in bringing about the war.”

“Like Narmos, my brother priest, I live to serve you, my lord.”

Satisfied, Isuzeni breathed in the cold morning air, which helped him clear his mind. He watched the mist which lay on the sea, reluctant to leave. He waited patiently. He knew it would happen soon; it was a question of waiting calmly. And he was right. Little by little the mist began to vanish and Isuzeni was able to glimpse what he was awaiting so eagerly, the reason why he was on that foreign cliff on that particular dawn. Dark dots became visible beneath the mist. First just a few, hardly apparent to the eye, then several more, and finally, when the mist vanished completely, he could see them all: thousands of them, filling everywhere as far as the eyes of the High Priest could reach.

“The invasion fleet of the Empress!” he announced to his Dark Priests, filled with pride.

Isuzeni could not help but wonder at the sight. Thousands of warships and cargo ships of different sizes filled the sea until they were lost on the horizon. It was an overwhelming sight. Isuzeni was left breathless; the power of the approaching black tide was unarguable. The ships with dark hulls and black sails were decorated with the unmistakable emblem of the Dark Lady: the two curved swords crossed in bright red, blood red, the red of conquest.

“They’re coming…” Isuzeni said, unable to hide the pleasure he felt.

“Beautiful…” said Narmos, with his slanted eyes fixed on the horizon.

“And overpowering…” added Cenem.

Isuzeni was awestruck by the Dark Lady’s impressive deployment of war power. The sea itself seemed to have been taken over by an immense black tide which covered everything, scattering the waves with red drops. Seventy thousand men traveled on those ships. The biggest invasion force ever assembled. Bards would sing for generations about the day when the Eastern Sea dawned black, bearing a host of hitherto unseen size and power. Isuzeni watched the advance of the fleet; the blue of the ocean disappeared completely, corrupted by the power of the immense black fleet.

Isuzeni waited full of excitement until the first ships arrived at the shore. The beaches would soon be thronged with soldiers in red and black.

“The five city-states of the east coast will have discovered the invasion fleet by now,” Isuzeni said to his acolytes. “Have my instructions been carried out?”

“Yes, my lord. The Alliance of Free Cities won’t interfere. They guarantee us free crossing, in exchange for a payment in gold which has already been delivered,” said Narmos.

Isuzeni looked at him thoughtfully, his gaze following the line of the coast.

“Just as I’d planned. The strategy is working as I expected. How predictable these greedy rulers are. The merchant peoples and their rulers have only one thing in mind: gold. They’re not even aware of the dangers around them, blinded by their own greed. I’d already anticipated the Alliance’s response. They gain nothing from an armed conflict and far more from our payment in gold. It was a proposal they couldn’t refuse.”

“And if they betray us, my lord?” asked Cenem. “If they should attack?”

“They won’t. The five city-states have a good-sized fleet which they rule the Eastern Sea with, but their infantry is far smaller than ours. They might attack us by sea and sink part of our fleet, but once on land they won’t dare confront us. They won’t come out of their fortified cities where they feel safe. I thought of the gold payment so that they wouldn’t find the temptation of attacking us at sea too attractive, and it’s worked. Although I doubt they would have dared once they saw the size of our fleet. But the wary man is the one who reaches old age,” he ended with a smile.

“In that case, we have free crossing into Tremia,” Narmos said, looking behind him. “Or were you planning to lay siege to the city-states and take all the eastern coast, my lord?”

“It’s tempting, my sharp-witted pupil, but it’s not the Empress’s wish. We can’t dally taking the East. It would take too long to lay siege to the five city-states and conquer them. The walls which protect them are formidable, and because of their location, the lie of the land around them and the years of endless war against each other, the cities are fully prepared to stand a prolonged siege. I’ve calculated they could resist for several years. The cost of taking them in a few months, although feasible, would be too high.”

“We’d conquer all the eastern coast of Tremia, a truly rich territory and of crucial strategic importance,” said Cenem. “If we should be forced to retreat… we’ll rue not having taken the cities.”

“Very true, and that’s what we ought to do. Going into Tremia with the enemy behind, blocking the access to the sea in case of a retreat, is extremely dangerous. More than that, it’s an action I’d never carry out if these were normal circumstances. But these aren’t normal circumstances… We must hurry west; that’s what the Dark Lady wants. What we’re looking for is in the west, and that’s what we must take first, crushing whoever gets in our way. We’ll go on at a forced march, crossing the continent until we reach Rogdon. We’ll destroy everything in our way: farms, villages, towns, cities, armies… Nothing will stop us till we reach Rilentor.”

“And once we’re there, my lord?” Narmos wanted to know.

“We’ll take the whole west of Tremia, since that’s what our Lady and Empress has ordered.”

Both priests of the Cult of Imork bowed their heads in a sign of respect for their Empress and her wishes.

Isuzeni watched the first units leap onto the beach. They took possession with military efficiency, securing it for the great landing which followed. He breathed deep and proclaimed:

“Let this continent of little men with round eyes and sharp noses tremble! Soon, very soon, it’ll be ours. Nothing will contain the devastating power of the Empress Yuzumi, who like a storm of hurricane winds will raze all Tremia to the ground. Nothing will survive.”

As he thought of his Mistress and the conviction which guided her, Isuzeni knew that seas of blood were on the verge of flooding the fertile lands of Tremia. It seemed almost unreal to him that he was finally in the great continent. He had known the day would come, he had known it for quite a while, but to find himself there, standing on that faraway land, was like a dream. He bent over and touched the ground with his hands.
The day has arrived. After so long… the omens are coming true, one after another… There is no more doubt. Our Destiny claims us with invisible but unbreakable bonds. We shall face it. The Dark Lady wants to conquer that destiny for herself, and that is what we shall do.

Isuzeni remembered, as if it had been the day before, the moment it had all started. It was the day chosen to celebrate Yuzumi’s eighth birthday. The little girl had been at the Temple less than a year. At that time Isuzeni was no more than a humble Dark Priest of the Cult and had been assigned to her as her tutor. During her stay the little girl had manifested her great power, and the high-ranking Priests of the Cult of Imork, deeply impressed by what they had seen in Yuzumi, wished to know the potential such a special child could reach.

For this reason they decided to take her to the Oracle, the one who with his power was capable of seeing the future, even the destiny of certain individuals if the gods saw fit. The Oracle dwelt retired from the world at the Temple of the Future, built on the top of a mountain where snow reigned all year round, known as the Peak of Dreams. The temple was built of such a white marble that it was said to reflect the thoughts and dreams of men. There they took the girl. The journey was long and arduous, but they reached the temple at last.

Isuzeni doubted whether the Oracle would receive them. It was well known by everyone in Toyomi that the Great Oracle only saw kings and great lords of the continent, and even them not always. He was a man who did not wish to be disturbed; he spent his life in contemplation, indifferent to the wishes, greed and dreams of men. He was a very special man, so much so that a Great Oracle was only born every three generations, so exquisite and rare was his Gift. It was a Gift which allowed him to read the future of anyone, anyone except a single person, the Oracle himself. It was the wise way in which Nature balanced such incredible power. No Oracle could ever see his own future, and in that way he could not use his Gift to alter it. The Great Oracle was both blessed and cursed by his unequaled power.

Surprisingly, he accepted seeing the little girl, most likely given the influence of the Cult and the gold the group of leaders accompanying them had presented.

“Don’t be afraid, little one. This is a wise man. He won’t hurt you,” Isuzeni had told her, to put her at her ease.

The truth was that the old man’s appearance was terrifying, particularly for a little girl of eight. His hair was long and albino, the right side of his face was horribly burnt and his eyes had been gouged out to enhance his visionary power. Because of this, he never left that place among the clouds.

“Why have we come here, Isuzeni? What does this old man want?” the girl had asked uneasily.

“Don’t you worry, Yuzumi, nothing bad will happen to you. This is the Great Oracle, and he’s going to read your future, your destiny.”

“But I don’t want to. I want to go back home. Let’s go home, Isuzeni,” Yuzumi had begged.

Isuzeni looked at his superiors of the Cult. They shook their heads firmly.

“It will only be a moment, little one.”

The old man came up to Yuzumi and placed his hands on her head. A sepulchral silence filled the main hall of the temple. The Oracle seemed to enter a mystical trance; his limbs stiffened and his body arched backwards, as if in a death rigor. Isuzeni feared that the old man’s frail body might break in two from such tension, like a thin twig of a tree. Isuzeni watched him in awe. But Yuzumi did not seem altered with what was going on.

The old man raised his head and his empty eyes looked, unseeing, toward the marble ceiling of the temple.

“I feel power… a great power… I can see it. Incontestable… The power in this girl is enormous… and it will grow… it will develop… into an unstoppable force…” he said in such a deep voice that it seemed to come from the deepest and remotest abysses of the continent.

The leaders of the Cult nodded their approval. Isuzeni knew that this was pleasing them and giving them great satisfaction: greater power and glory for the Cult of Imork.

“Yet I see two destinies in the future of this little girl, very different…” The Oracle went on, with his head still back and his white hair hanging in the air as he held the little girl’s head in this unusual mystical trance. “The first destiny is one of Glory. This girl will triumph, she will conquer the whole continent… all of Toyomi… but that is not all, she will reach much further… she will conquer the great continent beyond the seas. Kingdoms and nations will fall before her power, kings and emperors will bend before her and grant her victory. Her power will be incontestable, nobody will be able to hold her back, and all who dare confront her will suffer a cruel death. She will become the most powerful woman in the known world and will reign without opposition. This is the vision of the first destiny: the destiny of Glory.”