Novels2Search

33. Border

It took them three days’ hike to reach the Manolian border.

First the rolling foothills of Zerlan rose to mountains. These were actually easier to cross because instead of having to climb each mountain they simply used the position of the sun to make sure they were still heading south-east and kept to the lower slopes, cutting a path through them that wove below the summits. Once amidst the mountains they soon parted ways from the river, which turned abruptly north in a small valley, up towards the snow-dusted higher slopes, but this didn’t matter as they had filled the water flasks Cid had bought them in Nevva and were nearing their destination anyway.

Although they would not need to traverse any snow themselves since, as Elrann explained, they were cutting across the south-westerly edge of the mountains where it was not quite so cold at this time of year, things became more difficult when the mountainsides grew wooded. For in time they reached a place where a blanket of tall pines covered the slopes; a beautiful convergence of mountains and forest that they had no choice but to plunge into since it lay between them and Manolia.

The dense, unharvested trees hid the sky, throwing them even harder onto their trust in Elrann’s sense of direction, but now and again they opened onto a clearing, or the rise of an incline offered them a gap in their covering and the party was able to check the position of the sun again as its rays slanted down to greet them. The forest also had the benefit of concealing them from any Imperials who might be around.

Proceeding thus, on the afternoon of their third day walking, they sighted Manolia.

They saw it even before they saw Plessa, the station-town the Sirran train had been heading towards. As they came to the edge of a rocky crag where the ground suddenly fell away in a vicious drop, and the treeline with it, taking care not to stumble over the edge they were given a glimpse of the space between the lower slopes of several mountains. And there in the distance, beyond where the mountain range ended, was a gigantic, grey, stone wall.

Ryn thought it was a natural feature at first, so vast was it. He reasoned that the earth must have pressed together from two sides and, with nowhere else to go, pushed up to form an enormous cliff shelf. But as he looked more closely he saw that the edge of the shelf was entirely straight, and all the same height along the top, and that it stretched out of sight on either side; it must be man-made. Or ‘woman-made’, he supposed, from what Nuthea had told him back when he had still been speaking to her. It was impossible to tell how tall it was from this far away, but it looked to be at least the height of a mountain.

“Our journey is nearly at an end,” said Nuthea as they all stood side by side staring at it.

“Gold, gemstones and beautiful women here I come,” said Sagar, and licked his lips.

“We need to stay out of the way of the Imperials,” said Cid.

“That will be easy,” said Nuthea. “We can avoid Plessa entirely, and make for the secret passage in the north-eastern tip of the wall. It is not actually all that far away, since the wall is not very long as the land contracts here to form the Manolian peninsula. And it should be easy enough to stay out of sight of any lurking Imperials in this tree cover. Let’s go.”

They set out on what Ryn hoped was the last leg of their journey before they reached Manolia, turning from the crag to descend the last part of the slope they had been traversing, then turning north-east to walk parallel with the wall.

As if in assistance, when dusk began to fall a thick mist began to spread over the mountains. It started high up around the peaks, glimpsed as roiling white fingers reaching through the gaps between the trees, and then rolled slowly down to meet them, cloaking the wooded slopes in fog. If there were any Imperials out looking for them it would be even harder to spot the party now.

The only drawback to the mist was that it obscured their own view too and meant that they had to walk closer together to keep from losing sight of one other, so Ryn was no longer able to hang back from the group. He heard every word of their occasional, nervous conversation.

“How do you know this land so well, princess-girl?” Elrann asked, apparently impressed. In spite of the fog Nuthea still seemed to know exactly where she was going.

“I used to gaze out at these mountains every day from my bedchamber in Orma not far from the border wall on the other side. I know their names. I know where Plessa sits in relation to them.”

“It’s a good thing, too,” said Sagar, “or we’d be fodder for the Imperials by now.”

Sure enough, when Nuthea eventually led them out from underneath the trees onto a plain where the mountains ended, there in front of them, suddenly looming like a visitor they had not known had been at their door, was the Manolian border wall.

It was even more immense up close. Now Ryn could see for sure that it was hewn out of smooth, grey stone: If you looked closely enough you could see weathered lines in the places where massive rectangular bricks had been joined together. It must have taken an age to build.

What was that noise? A gentle susurrus, rising and falling to and from a larger swell from moment to moment, not unlike the wind and yet not the wind. He looked left, along the wall, and just visible through the descending dusk and lingering mist was the shimmer and foam of the sea.

Stolen story; please report.

“What are we looking for, then?” said Sagar. “A secret door?”

“I will know it when I see it,” said Nuthea.

They drew up to the face of the wall and walked to its extreme north-eastern tip. Here its edge suddenly stopped and fell away to a rocky coastline where the white spray of crashing waves glittered in the air. A vertical pole about as tall as a person came into view, standing a little way away from the wall, and near enough to its edge that when they gathered by it they got a bit wet from stray droplets of seaspray. It had the sheen of metal rather than stone, though had been camouflaged against the wall from a distance so you would not have known it was there if you were not looking for it. It was thin and straight, except for its tip, at about head height, which ended in a metallic sphere slightly wider than the pole itself.

“This is the lock to the secret passage through the wall,” said Nuthea. “Only Manolians with the Gift can use it. Stand back.”

She spread her feet and opened her hands.

“Bolt!”

Bright white lightning leapt from her open hands to the sphere at the top of the pole, a single shock of discharge. In the same instant it ran down the length of the pole into the ground, and the whole pole shone white for a moment, then returned to its metal colour.

Silence but for the foaming sea.

Of course Sagar broke it first. “Well that was a pretty trick, princess, but how does it help us?”

Even as he spoke two sections of the wall in front of them slid backwards with a rumbling scrape, revealing a dark, person-sized opening in the stone.

“That’s quite clever, I suppose...”

They followed Nuthea into the darkness of the passageway.

Once she had gone a few paces she checked that everyone else was in, then pressed her hand against a place in the stone she knew to look for. The stone she had touched depressed and the doors behind them slid shut, plunging them into a dimness punctuated only by a blazing torch mounted on the wall of the passageway a few steps further in.

“Princess Nuthea!” said a female voice.

Ryn almost jumped out of his skin. Sagar and Vish put hands to their swords.

In front of them stood a tall, broad-shouldered woman clad in a golden breastplate over a gold-dyed tunic and skirt. She wore a golden helm too, with a guard that came down over the bridge of her nose. Like Nuthea, she had long, golden hair. All the gold on her glittered in the flickering glow from the torch. She carried a metal spear taller than herself, with a vicious, twinkling tip. Her approach must have been masked by the tunnel doors sliding shut.

“Kathuna!” Nuthea said, running forwards. They embraced and kissed on each cheek.

Sagar turned round and raised his eyebrows, flashing Ryn a lascivious smile. He mouthed the syllables ‘Beau-ti-ful wo-men!’ and his eyes glinted mischievously before he turned back round.

How can he be thinking about that now? He’s got a one-track mind. He could see what Sagar meant, though. This woman was very beautiful. Not as beautiful as Nuthea, though. Her jaw was wider, and she didn’t quite have the same striking angular cheekbones, Ryn could see even under the helmet she wore. And she was slightly shorter, and stockier. Also she just wasn’t Nuthea. Not that any of that mattered. Ugh. Why was he thinking this? He wasn’t even interested in Nuthea anymore.

“You’ve come back!” the woman, Kathuna, was saying. “And you’ve brought these...people with you?”

“Yes; these are my friends, Lady Elrann, Grandfather Cid, Captain Sagar, Master Ryn and Sir Vish.” Why did she say Elrann first? Why did she say Sagar before me? “I...well, there’s no time to explain now—Kathuna, the Morekemian Empire is seeking to invade our country! I must see my mother to warn her!”

“Calm down, calm down!” Kathuna put out her hands in a steadying gesture. “We know. We’ve been watching the Imperials for some time now. They have been mustering troops at Plessa for a few days, bringing them in by train. It’s fortunate that you chose to come back this way. But maybe you knew to avoid them?”

“So they haven’t attacked yet?”

“No. Why would they? They know we have the Gift.”

“Oh, thank the One! I’m so glad we’re not too late!”

“Too late for what?” Kathuna tilted her head to one side. “Where have you been all this time, Princess?”

“I’ll explain everything in time. I must get to my mother as soon as possible—I have information I must share with her.”

“Of course. Follow me.”

Kathuna took the torch and led off down the passageway. “I have got so much to tell you, Princess. So much has happened while you’ve been away.”

“Oh?”

“As I’m sure you expected, Queen Materea was furious when she discovered that you’d fled the country. House Aluna were furious as well. Vivenna vowed to go and find you and bring you back to Manolia herself, but her mothers wouldn’t let her. They were so offended that you’d run away from the wedding that they withdrew their proposal altogether.”

“That is a relief.”

Ryn had lots of questions, in spite of himself. But he couldn’t voice them what with his pact of silence in regards to Nuthea.

Fortunately Sagar voiced them for him. “Huh? Who’s this ‘Vivenna’?”

“Vivenna Aluna,” said Kathuna, “is the young lady Princess Nuthea was engaged to be married to.”

“You were engaged to be married to a woman?!” Ryn could not help himself from blurting out.

“She was. By the arrangement of their families, as is our custom. I have heard this is not so common in the primitive lands, but in the Motherland we have little need for men, except as slaves and surrogates.”

Ryn’s throat went dry and for the moment his questions dried up too.

“Hang on a moment,” said Sagar, suspicion seeping into his tone, “you’re not about to try and enslave me, are you, princess? I was promised gold, gemstones and beautiful women in return for escorting the you back here!”

“You were promised what?” said Kathuna.

“Never mind that just now,” said Nuthea, laughing nervously, a sound that Ryn had never heard before. “The promises I made to you will be fulfilled, skycaptain. And do not worry, Ryn, Vish, Grandfather. You will not be made to be servants here either. You are here as my guests. Manolia knows that not every country in Mid follows her customs, and my mother should be able to tolerate men in her presence so long as you behave yourselves and are polite.” She glanced at Sagar. “In fact, perhaps it is best if you do not say anything, Captain.”

“Okaaay then, princess…” said Sagar warily.

Vish grunted the barest acknowledgement.

“I’m starting to like this country,” said Elrann.

“I did warn you,” Cid said quietly while Nuthea and Kathuna continued talking, “that Manolia was a Matriarchy. I should hasten to add, not all Oneists take this view of the roles of the sexes—that men should be subservient to women. I, for one, do not. It is a doctrine that is peculiar to the Manolians. So you will need to...allow a certain amount that you are unfamiliar with while you are here.”

Ryn didn’t really care that much. Why should he?

They reached the end of the passageway at last. This time Kathuna depressed a small place in the wall, and two hidden doors in the stone that barred their way swung open.