Viryl and Anker may have defeated a seemingly invincible enemy, but the situation they found themselves in after the battle did not bode well.
The snowfall had finally turned into a blizzard, the heating potions were starting to run low, and the horses had run off toward the swamp and disappeared. The idea of losing the ten-lira deposit they had paid when they rented them now seemed like the least of their worries.
Anker suggested spending the night in the ruins of Valacqua, but Viryl was keen to remind him that there wasn’t a single building left in the village with four walls and a roof intact: if they tried to sleep there, in that terrible weather, they would surely freeze to death. Anker tried to argue that if there was even the remote possibility of finding a secluded room in which to light a fire among the demolished houses, it was worth trying.
«And if we don’t find it? And if the weather doesn’t improve tomorrow?» Viryl asked. The implicit answer to that question was that they would only be wasting their time and resources.
«You’re the mountain guide here, Viryl,» Anker conceded. «I can’t help but trust you.»
«You get the idea. Stay behind me, and if you lose sight of me, scream,» Viryl said resolutely.
In fact, the fallen knew what he was doing. He walked south until he found the rocky wall that surrounded the basin, and then began to follow it counterclockwise until he came across the ravine where the path that led to the road to Belladia descended: obviously the roadway had been swallowed up by snow, but it was enough to continue downhill and follow the rocky ridge to be sure of being in the right direction.
By the time they reached the paved road they were already in the dead of night, but since they had descended several yards below the level of the basin, the snowfall had lost much of its intensity, so a couple of incandescent globes were enough to find the way.
Rather than venture toward Meridania, Anker suggested turning in the direction of Belladia and stopping at the first inn they came across. Viryl nodded; insisting on returning to Meridania that night would mean taking unnecessary risks.
Fortunately, the outskirts of Belladia turned out to be closer than expected, and in less than an hour Viryl and Anker had found a couple of warm, comfortable beds. The next day the weather was no better, but Viryl thought it safe enough to set out under the pale sun’s rays that shimmered through the thick, ashen curtain that enveloped everything.
They reached their hotel in Meridania’s university district in the late afternoon, exhausted from their trek through knee-deep snow. For that day there was nothing left to do but rest, wait for the remaining wounds Anker had suffered in the clash with the Fearkan to heal during the night, and take stock of the progress made in their investigation since their arrival in the League of Free Communes.
*****
The twenty-second day of the month of Siliphicus came to an end. Almost seven days had already passed since landing in Yuthsenia, and Anker had already used up more than a quarter of the time allowed on his visa.
The clock was ticking for Viryl too. The Lazulian Christmas celebrations were imminent, and passing through the snow-covered city one could sense the trepidation and joy of all the inhabitants for the three festive days that awaited them. And Christmas would take the month of Siliphicus away with it, making room for the thirteenth month. Neviticus. Radios' threat would have become terribly more concrete, turning that calendar page and seeing on the new one the execution date marked in red.
There was another, more insidious matter that required them to be even quicker in closing their investigation. An entire mountain village had been wiped out after their visit. Of course, the incident had occurred in the jurisdiction of another commune, but more than a couple of people knew about their escapade in the Oiran basin. Dioryl. The unpleasant librarian. The receptionist at their hotel. The owners of the stables where they had rented the horses were also suspicious of the fact that the animals had not been returned. The only factor that worked in their favor was the snow. As long as the storm raged and for a few more days to follow, no one would have ventured to Valacqua. But it was a matter of at most ten days before some traveler in the valley came across the corpses, in Viryl's opinion.
As for the results obtained, there was nothing to be particularly enthusiastic about. The only positive aspect of the inspection in Veltagia was that Anker had finally obtained enough evidence to be convinced that Viryl was not a crazy visionary, and would finally stop with his doubts and his worries. It was no longer a question of having faith in intangible beliefs and in the mere intuition of a veteran: the clash with the Fearkan had made concrete a world that until that moment Anker had never had the opportunity to know and which he had legitimately doubted.
However, the fleeting encounter had not opened any new leads. Velthan's son had escaped, leaving no trace of him, and now they had to start the search all over again.
Anker had come up with the idea that rather than remaining in Meridania any longer it would be more profitable to turn their attention elsewhere. According to Viryl, however, the esoteric city still had much to offer. They had to succeed where they had failed that far, and find a way to sneak into occult clubs: surely in those circles they would find information both on the Fearkan and on the hand that seemed to move it. After all, based on what the monster had revealed to Anker, it was reasonable to assume that he had not stolen the Exoplion and the Demetriscus Stele for himself, and that there were much darker secrets to be revealed.
*****
Their attempts were unsuccessful and another four days passed without any new developments. The occult world of Meridania was protected by an impenetrable facade of bourgeoisie. All commoners in the streets seemed exclusively dedicated to strictly earthly matters, and certain questions had the only effect of arousing the hilarity of the interlocutors.
A chance meeting on Christmas Eve finally managed to shuffle the cards on the table.
The snow storm had finally calmed down and Viryl had proposed to Anker, dejected by the stagnation of the investigations, that they cheer themselves up with a dinner in some cheap inn and then party until late in the night district. Anker was not dying to accept the invitation, but since he had never given up a bit of serenity in the days of the Holy Christmas, even in the most difficult years of the academy, he had to agree that perhaps taking a few hours of leisure was for the best.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
After a dinner of cappelletti in capon broth, pan-fried stockfish and polenta, they headed to a pub where they ordered a couple of beers while waiting for midnight. They sat at a quiet table in the corner, while a polka was being played and dozens of people danced in the center of the room.
On that night of celebration it seemed that all the sleepy citizens of Meridania had awakened, and one could see around clean faces that on ordinary days would never have ventured into those places of perdition.
At the edge of the dance floor there were a couple of girls in skimpy clothes shaking with provocative moves, and Viryl only had eyes for them. Actually even Anker's gaze, perhaps due to the half liter of white wine from dinner, perhaps due to the half-empty mug of beer he was holding in his hand, couldn't move away from the black lace hem of one of the two's tights, which squeezed her thighs forming a soft hollow. The perverse habits of his comrade were starting to make their way into him as well.
«How the fuck can they go around dressed like that in this weather? Won't they catch a cold?» Viryl observed.
«Well, maybe they left a coat hanging on their chair or something like that. And in any case they are mountain girls, they must be used to the cold temperatures.» Anker retorted, trying to justify them.
«I don't know about the coat, boy, but for once I see you're interested in girls, and that's all that matters to me. If you want to ask one of them to dance, go. I'll take care of looking at your things.» Viryl suggested.
«Oh, come on! She is having so much fun with her friend! What if she's not interested? What if I can't take the right steps and I end up making a fool of myself? And what if she already has a boyfriend who is here in the club and he is dancing with his friends and…» Anker began to babble, red in the face as a pepper.
«For fuck’s sake, boy!» Viryl interrupted him: «What are you, thirteen years old? You're asking her to dance, not to go to a toilet and give you hea…»
Caught up in the heated exchange, the knight and the fallen didn't notice a man waving at them. So this one had approached stealthily and, when he was behind them, he gave a loud slap on Viryl's scalp, exclaiming: «I’ll be damned if you are not Viryl of the White Gale! Time has been inclement with your hair loss!»
Viryl jumped on his chair, turned around, and with the pissed off look of someone who's ready to start a fight, looked him up and down. He was an imposing man, about the same age as him. On his chest, partially hidden by an elegant black velvet cloak, he wore an Exoplion with the coat of arms of the Order of Libertas engraved on it. He had piercing blue eyes and a slightly receding hairline. Viryl's expression relaxed and he replied: «You, on the other hand, seem to have put on a few extra pounds, Melfis Jawbreaker!»
Anker couldn't help but wonder if the League's knightly epithets were all that crude.
«That’s because my sweet little wife treats me well!» Melfis gloated, holding his belly with both hands.
«That’s rich! A blockhead like you getting married?!» Viryl shouted, his eyes widening.
«Yes, with a seamstress from Meridania. I had to move here to the mountains, where she owns a shop. It's freezing cold, but with the liberalization of Fekoro hunting in the internal Varanachian Sanctuary we have no shortage of money. I've saved up quite a bit, you know?»
«I knew it! I remember you had told me you’re not from around here! You used to live in the Volgada Plain, in one of those small towns around Colonica.»
«I presume that you and Lyndabel as well started your own family in the end. Is the kid next to you your son? Are you enjoying a little trip together to some ski resort in Gregheria to celebrate your retirement, or maybe he's the one celebrating his first paycheck? Where did you leave her?» said Melfis, reeling off a series of questions that demonstrated a certain acumen. His conclusions were completely erroneous and Anker had no idea who this Lyndabel was, yet the hypotheses postulated by Melfis were congruous and relied on a single detail that he had grasped at first glance. Anker was wearing his uniform, on which the emblem of the Kingdom of Ferlonia was clearly visible, while Viryl was not.
Viryl's expression darkened as he listened to Melfis' words. After a few seconds of heavy silence, he replied: «No, my friend. The boy and I are not blood related. We simply found ourselves traveling together because we have some goals in common. As for Lyndabel… well, you can't know. She is no more. Unfortunately she passed away a few years after our return from the crusade.»
«The hell?! Did she fall on the battlefield?»
«No, that was a far more unpleasant matter, and I don't feel like talking about it at all.»
«I'm sorry, man. You two were always sticking together, that must’ve been quite a blow for you. Hearing you chatting loud in your Ferlonian accent with your partner took me back to the times of our crossing to Venatolia. The first time I met you, you were on the deck of the galleon having a spat with Lyndabel, and you had exactly the same tone of voice. Do you remember? It's so peculiar that, even though more than twenty years have passed, it took me an instant to recognize you!»
Viryl managed a painful smile, while Anker witnessed the meeting of the two veterans without uttering a word. Was hearing Viryl croaking in the corner of a noisy pub really enough for Melfis to recognize him? Was his voice really that peculiar? Unable to find an answer to these questions, Anker raised the mug of beer to his lips and took a deep sip.
Since Viryl didn't seem very happy to let himself be dragged into those nostalgic memories, Melfis's face became more serious, and he put his hands on his belt. He thought it was time to change the subject: «If you're not here for leisure, it must be for work. Friend, if there's anything I can do for you, don't hesitate to ask.»
Viryl showed Melfis a chair and invited him to sit down, then said: «Have a drink with us, and I will explain our situation to you. Surely there is something you can do to help.»
«With pleasure!» Melfis replied, pulling back the chair with his powerful hand.
Sitting at that narrow round table, with the notes of the polka and the mazurka in the background, followed by the midnight celebrations, Viryl took a good hour to tell his story from the beginning, also revealing some details that even Anker was still unaware of. He started from afar, from how he had renounced his title of knight, tracing deep furrows on his emblem and hurling it angrily into the lobby of the Order’s base in Corlona. Then he remembered his early days as a shepherd on the Horn of Morghorou and how he had come across the Observatory while loitering on the slopes of the mountain. He retraced his research, which took him deeper and deeper into the temple of Ghorou, and his feverish translations of the Demetriscus stele. He finally arrived at his meeting with Anker, and recounted their journey up to that point, leaving out almost no detail. He was particularly keen to point out how short they were on time, given the latest developments.
Once the story was finished, Viryl came to his request: «And so, I think you can figure out what I am going to ask. I need to find a connection in the esoteric circles of Meridania in order to trace that damned Fearkan of Veltagia. Anyone, in any position, is fine with me. But I need at least an initial contact.»
«Esoteric circles, you say?» Melfis replied, with a note of skepticism in his voice: «I've been living around here for a few years now, but I've never heard of arcane rituals or anything like that, Viryl. But as for that woman, Darlah if I’m not mistaken, maybe I can help you find her. I have a colleague who has some vices, and often hangs out in brothels. I don't know if he knows her directly, but he is certainly able to get to her. Give me a couple of days, and you'll know where she lives. And then she will no longer be able to escape you.»
Viryl nodded. It wasn't much, but he would make it work. They exchanged their speculum codes and Melfis said goodbye. It was now almost one o'clock on Christmas night, and his wife was waiting for him at home, probably frustrated by his delay.
Once Melfis had abandoned them, Anker cast his eyes towards the dance floor in search of the damsel in the lace-edged pantyhose. Unfortunately, she and her friend had been gone for quite some time.