Robuald confided, “I will never forget what we saw, which left us stunned and disgusted. The remorse that has haunted me since that day will never ease.
As you know, we were supposed to join the cavalry squadrons sent to the South, and the western pass was the meeting point. They had arrived there too early and they were decimated by the battles that spared us. Our fellow soldiers, who must have hoped for our help, laid lifeless and scattered around us, while a horrid gang of monsters feasted on their brutally mangled bodies. In the brief moments of denial, I sensed that if our soldiers had made it that far, it meant that the lands they had passed through had been cleared of all contamination and therefore, the only enemies to face were in front of us. As soon as these thoughts rushed through my mind and allowed me to slowly break through the thick veil of daze that had enveloped me, I understood that I would never see my beloved brother Romuald's affable features again or even be able to recognize them. I turned to my companions, and without any order, we rushed towards the horrifying diners as one man. Not a cry or a moan escaped our throats clogged with horror, and the enemy was not given time to breathe.
I do not intend to go back to what happened on that fateful day or the atrocities that were committed with my consent and participation! That hour of indecency reappears to me clouded. It seems to me, and I will say only that, perhaps, we surpassed those same murderers in cruelty. May the fire that consumed their bodies purify my heart and erase the images that now I see faded, but that acquire defined forms and features in words to increase my torment. They reside in me and poison me, I see it clearly now!” Suffocated by remorse and disgust, Robuald finished speaking, unable to continue or to face the two men who had listened to him throughout the narration, during which his suffering had grown until it finally revealed itself in shame.
A sincere sorrow and a motion of compassion towards his friend poured out genuinely from Sigismund’s heart, who got up, approached him, and kissed him. Such gesture, as unexpected as it was loving and finally worthy of a human being, performed in the midst of so much stench of misery and transience, moved Robuald to tears. And, as if cleansed by his own tears, he was reborn and felt human again, a gentle and inherently good being capable of forgiving and loving once more.
With that kiss, Sigismund had repaid his debt, giving back to Robuald the life he lost as a sacrifice for victory on the battlefield, to the point that the captain of the East suddenly realized how fresh and rejuvenating the evening air was, so he breathed deeply and smiled. He fixed his gaze on Sigismund and in that glance he conveyed a feeling that no words could have expressed more clearly. When he spoke again, his voice rang out clear and his eyes shone brightly, like a stream that, held back by rubbish until it putrefied in a pool, was suddenly unleashed by a flood and flowed freely once again: “When nothing moved anymore, we counted ourselves, and we were still enough in number to go on and ensure that the outer entrance of the pass was clear, or to clear it if necessary. In addition, we were driven by the desire for revenge aroused by the hatred of our own actions. This was undoubtedly the greatest achievement of the enemy, because while resentment consumed us, our minds were clouded. So, after giving the fallen the most dignified burial possible, we threw ourselves headlong through the passage, and if adequate troops had been posted at the exit, they would have easily defeated us. Instead, we encountered only a few guards whom we killed without even stopping, and like a whirlwind unleashed to shatter everything in its path, we rushed westward, throwing ourselves towards destruction. And if we had not met you, our fate would have been certain.
When we allowed ancestral barbarism to invade our hearts and took up the same weapons wielded by the enemy, we decreed our fate, and if it had not unexpectedly changed, a very different crowd would have gathered today around these blackened stones. But we have met you, and you have led us back to the path that leads to our home. No, Sigismund, do not argue: this is how it is, and now that you have learned how events unfolded on this cursed site, you also know that the truth lies in my words. Perhaps we have only postponed the moment of our death, and perhaps the verdict has already been pronounced. But the most important thing has been achieved because our souls will not be lost again, therefore the impostor's triumph can no longer be absolute.”
“It is too early to accept defeat,” said Astor admonishing him, “and too late to prolong this discussion. The light is fading. Come on, let's leave this gloomy place quickly, and if you wish, lead us into your territory so that we can better assess what faculties we have left to resist and likely repel the enemy a second time, just as you have already done once!”
“No!” exclaimed Robuald. “We must prevail, but not as I did! But you speak correctly, noble Astor. We must not surrender, so let us proceed, because I feel that if they do not find us prepared, the next assault will overwhelm us all forever. Let us hurry then!”
Penetrating the lands they had not yet explored, the veterans of the West realized, league after league, how unprepared that nation was to fight. The houses, scattered along the hilly paths travelled by horsemen or dotting the vast plains, were open and welcoming, low and elongated, arranged on a single floor. It was clear that they were built with love by hands used to handling the instruments of life, rather than those of death. Nevertheless, the valor that the eastern army had shown in battle was undeniable, because that people so dedicated to peace, proved themselves capable of fighting with ardor and skill in case of need. Such doubts and thoughts saddened Astor, as the beautiful countryside flowed around him.
Sigismund had insisted that Robuald's cavalry go ahead to bring the news of the recent victory quickly. As for his own company, it would proceed slowly, keeping pace with Astor’s infantry, but Robuald had refused to leave them and preferred to continue side by side to enter the city together. He merely sent some heralds with the task of announcing the arrival of the Allied Army, thus preparing for them a worthy reception, while spreading renewed hope.
At dusk, the army camped on a vast rise, because prudence and fear were constant companions of their journey and advised them not to choose open spaces to set up the encampment. However, the night, contrary to every fear, passed peacefully, crowned by an enchanting starry sky.
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The bright dawn greeted the numerous and anxious entourage, rested and eager to resume the journey, which in a few days would finally lead them to a welcoming and sheltered place. A coveted place, where every expectation was placed.
Despite the warm and caressing sun that loosened the grip of the apprehension that gripped many hearts, their pace remained sustained, and the rearguard never neglected its task. The funereal vision of the ruins they encountered on the threshold of that territory, had reawakened in them the awareness that the conflict had not ceased at all, but only suspended in a truce that no one knew how long it would last.
The words exchanged during the march were very few and brief. The soldiers seemed to have lost interest in the amenity of the places, as if they were suddenly overwhelmed by doubts about the military resources that could be found in such a gentle location, which were indispensable for to continue the war as soon as it resumed. In particular, Astor's troops, who did not have the opportunity to witness the bravery of the men from the East in battle, were beginning to doubt the real security of the region. Until then, in fact, they had not laid eyes on a single building that could serve for defense, and their uncertainty quickly shaped contorted expressions on their faces and dry phrases in their mouths, uttered almost harshly.
Sigismund quickly realized this and feared that his guest might also notice. He then tried to draw his attention by starting a conversation much louder than necessary, so that his soldiers would turn their attention to him and be encouraged to ask similar questions to the allies. He turned to Robuald, who was riding alongside him at the head of the column, inviting him: “Robuald, first of the Captains of the East, enlighten me, if you will, on how your state is governed and who its Prince is, so that I may pay him the homage he deserves when I meet him. And tell me, if you please, about the city we are heading towards.”
Robuald, happy to talk about his people as if speaking of this could reduce the distance that separated him from the destination, replied: “I consider it a great privilege to describe the poor history of my people to such a distinguished companion in battle and now in travel. Until now, I had been held back by the embarrassment that would result if you were to compare our simple life to the glorious events of the Realm from which you come. However, since you yourself wish to know, I will speak of it, trusting in the magnanimity that has already helped us. Well, ours is not a kingdom, since no king sits on a throne, nor is there an aristocracy to lead the people.
As I had the opportunity to mention in the past, mine is a community of shepherds and farmers, lovers of the most extreme freedom and independence.
It is based on the honor of every adult man, who governs and conducts himself, strong in his own morality and eager to live without the fetters of the law and those who apply it. And it is this same desire that drives us to respect the freedom of others, even more than the possibility of losing our own. There is indeed a sort of government constituted by the Council of Elders, formed by men who have distinguished themselves in the villages for their wisdom or for some particular talent in judging or advising. However, such a meeting is rarely called, only in very serious circumstances, such as the one that saddens us now.
Upon our arrival in the City of Stone, as the capital is called, we will find it gathered, waiting for the news we bring, to decide what to do.
It had been years and years since it was last convened, since few and rare are the crimes committed among my people, and they are always punished with extreme severity as a warning to safeguard and maintain intact the customs.”
Astor, who was riding on the left of Robuald, intervened, asking: “What kind of executions does this Council impose, then?”
“None,” was Robuald's response, and he continued, saying: “Is death not the gift of true and ultimate freedom? It would therefore be a reward for my people, who in fact do not fear it. Instead, we prefer to deprive those who have proven themselves incapable of making good use of their lives of the power to decide their fate, and so they are delivered as slaves to the family they have harmed, until the day they can obtain forgiveness. Sometimes many years pass, if the offense is serious, but we believe that this is the only valid way to ensure that the resentment and hatred that have arisen are quenched by both sides. We consider this result so vital for peace that we attach no importance to the time it takes to achieve it.”
Astor and Sigismund remained silent, pensive, but Astor was the first to express his doubt: “And tell me, Knight,” he resumed, “does it never happen that the captive...” he interrupted himself, searching for the best expression, but since the concept to be expressed was of absolute nature, he continued resolutely: “Well, that he dies?”
“If that were to happen,” replied Robuald, “the hand that had cut short his life would itself be subject to the family of the slain, perhaps forever. Furthermore, the one who is condemned is not held captive, but he is free in body, although no longer in spirit because of his own actions. If he were to escape, he would be caught at the borders – always under surveillance – and sent into the desert forever, where the bandits would sentence him to a much harsher state without possibility of redemption.
This is our law and it is taught to children as soon as they reach the age of reason, which arrives very early in our free life in the countryside.
No, Astor, no man worthy of that name has ever evaded his punishment. As for those who have chosen to claim a false and arbitrary freedom, they have ended up losing it as well. We do not know what became of them once they were banished, since no one has ever returned from the arid lands, and we have forgotten them, erasing their names from all censuses.”
You may find it a harsh rule, perhaps, but it has always allowed anyone to safely travel our paths and settle wherever they please, safe from any violence or oppression. Security and freedom reside in their own actions, and no one else but themselves can take them away.”
Astor objected, “It seems to me that your entire freedom is therefore constrained by law.”
Robuald replied, “There is no freedom without law. The law is the only freedom that man possesses.” He fell silent, but his expression and the pride with which he had pronounced those words made Sigismund admit, “Indeed, Robuald, the more I learn about your people and their traditions, the stronger my conviction grows that we belong to the same root. Only someone who could probe the mysteries of time could confirm my belief, but I do not know anyone who could do so.”
“Perhaps I do” whispered Robuald, but he looked far ahead and it was clear that he would not reveal anything at that moment.
Sigismund’s intentions had succeeded, as the conversation had been carefully followed by those behind them, who, albeit discreetly, had begun to exchange comments, which were curiously taken up by the majority of the column, until the soldiers themselves started asking the new companions about their customs. They thus discovered that many habits and customs, such as hunting and cooking, were similar – as the knights of Sigismund had already noticed – and that unity between the two allied militias, until then forced by events, grew stronger.