Chapter 11

From afar, it looked like a swarm of ants had covered the hills in darkness. Even from where we were, we could feel the ground quake from their marching. The banners of the Mirnese, a black, upright sword on a red background, dotted the skyline, almost blocking out the setting sun of Telafa. Their drums rumbled through the hills like a thunderous, crashing cloud. They had truly come in their thousands.

My homeland had become engulfed in blackness, and we Bervians knew what the blackness brought. Death.

“Now is not the time to stare,” my mother said softly. Her voice was as calm as always. She put a hand on my shoulder which gave me a sense of safety that I had no right in feeling.

I looked down at the soft earth beneath my feet. A single tear was in my eye.

“There must be a way we can fight them,” I said. Although I knew the truth of it. It was clear now why my father had warned everyone. Why he was so scared of this day finally coming. Why, in the end, he ran.

There were just too many of them. Never in all my life did I imagine a gathering of soldiers could be so plentiful.

Still, my mother did her best to console me, “There is a way to fight them,” she said. “But it is not today nor is it tomorrow. For now, we do what we must. Go and seek your brother, and make sure the rest of them are safe.”

I looked at her and she smiled a hopeless smile.

“What will you do?” I asked.

“I’m going to find your father. I know in my heart that he wouldn’t just abandon us, and it’s my duty as his wife to help and guide him in his time of need.”

“But that would mean going towards the enemy. How do you expect to find him amongst that?”

I pointed to the ever-moving blackness of the Mirnese. Her hopeless smile waned. Her eyes welled up with tears. “I have a different journey, Jeb, we may never see each other again my son. But there is always hope. Look after the ones you can.”

*

I opened my eyes slowly.

At first, I couldn’t make out what the flecks of green were. My vision was a blur. I could hear a ringing behind my ears, a low humming sound that lingered endlessly. A droplet of water hit my forehead and then things became clearer. I was staring at bits of moss on a stone slabbed ceiling. The light that I could see came from a window just big enough to fit a head through. The window was arched and barred.

I went to move. A wave of pain surfed across my head as I prompted myself into a sitting position. A quick look around told me that I was in a room, dark and wet. Three sides of the room were of uneven stone walls, and one side was of thick, iron bars that were pressed tight together. A realisation dawned on me. This was a cage. Like the ones that Father used when setting traps before a hunt, only this was human-sized. I got to my feet gingerly and almost fell again as the dizziness struck. I felt the back of my head and winced. It was sore and my hair was crusted with dry blood.

I stood there for a moment, reliving the final parts of the plan through my mind. How did I survive?

I pressed my face against the bars of the cage to look out along the corridor. There was nothing, just a few unlit torches hanging along the wall.

“Hello!” I called in Naminian.

Silence.

“Hello!” I tried again in the local tongue.

Silence.

I let out a breath. “You’re not on the hills anymore.”

I sat on top of some hay that was in one corner of the cage, put my head to my knees, and wept. I was alone, tired, hungry, scared, worried, guilt-stricken, and probably going to die. I don’t know how long I stayed like that for, but it was long enough for the sunlight from the barred window to fade and moonlight to form.

So far, no one had come.

The only thing I had to keep me company, was the noise of the droplets falling from the moss- covered ceiling.

I fell into a dreamless sleep like that. With my head on my knees.

*

“Get up kling!” said a voice.

I stirred.

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My first waking moment was greeted with the return of the rushing throb in my head.

“I said get up!”

SPLASH!

The rush of cold water hit me in an instant. I shot to my feet in a sudden fear that I was drowning. I started to shiver and panic, and for a moment, I had no idea what was happening. But then I realised what had happened.

Three men stood in front of the bars of the cage.

The brown-robed one held an empty wooden bucket. He was old, haggard, and skulking. A cruel, gaunt, look was upon his face.

The one in front of him was dressed in a thick, rich coat of dark green, and wore a hulking chain necklace that looked as heavy as a stone block.

The third was a bald man in a mauve robe, tall, and small-eyed. With his chin raised high.

The man in the green coat looked over at me and spoke in the local tongue.

I caught a few words here and there but not enough to understand.

“His Excellency the Doge Rolof II asked for your name, kling, I’d advise that you answer him.”

The bald man spoke in Naminian.

“J-Jeb, Jeb-of-deer-hill-and-low-grass,” I said shivering.

The front man’s face was unmoving. Unblinking. His dark eyes were fixated on me like that of a statue.

So, this was the Doge I had heard about. From what Anna had said, he is the chief of this city, like my father was the chief of our tribe. He stood with straight, broad, shoulders and had his arms clasped behind his back expectantly. A thin black moustache lay on his top lip and a slight tuft of hair was set on his pointed chin. He looked neither amused nor angry, neither bored nor excited. He just looked plain. As if dealing with something like a Bervian killing a drunkard in the middle of the street was an everyday occurrence. He lifted his green hat and scratched the top of his head. He then spoke again in the local tongue.

The robed man cleared his throat, “The Doge says that you have stirred quite a lot of trouble in his city. Your technique and general handling of the operation were sloppy and unprofessional. He was expecting better, especially you being one of Raina’s ilk.”

All three men looked at me as if I should have some explanation. I shrugged. I was cold and tired and unsure of what was happening.

When the silence remained, I shrugged again and said “Well, we only had a week to prepare.”

The robed man gave me a scalding look and then translated quickly.

I realized how stupid it sounded.

The Doge gave a peculiar smile and spoke again in the local tongue.

“How long have you been in the city?” Asked the bald man.

“No longer than two months,” I said.

The Doge spoke again. The bald man nodded, waiting for him to finish before relaying what he said back to me.

“It must have been hard, coming from your homeland to here.”

I sighed, “Yes.” It was the last thing I wanted to talk about. I was in no mood to tell a long tale. Doge or not.

He pursed his lips and spoke again.

“Our excellency would like to give you some advice. He says that the best thing you could do is leave. Leave the city as soon as you can. This city treats people like you the worst. If you expect to live another two months, then you will want to be far away. He even says that he will give you the provisions you need. He will see to it that you live a comfortable life in lands distant from here. He is a man of his word, and his word is bond.”

frowned at him. His face remained the same.

“Why would you help me so?” I asked.

The robed man gave a quick translation and the Doge replied promptly.

“The Doge said that you shouldn’t ask why. That the offer is a good one and that you would be a fool not to take it.”

I looked down at the floor, “It’s not that simple,” I said. “They have my brother; I cannot just leave him.”

Then a thought dawned on me, I looked up at the leader of Wannihiem, “Perhaps you can help him?” My voice was eager and desperate. “You could free him from the people he is with, and we could leave together. If it could be, then I will certainly go. Please, can you help me?” I was close to getting on my knees and begging as the bald man relayed my request.

There was quiet after he finished translating.

The Doge scanned me, eyeing me up and down as if I were some sort of prized horse. He then spoke again in the local tongue. It was a command. The short, skulking man to his left put the bucket down and pulled out a set of ringed keys from his brown robes. He unlocked the caged gate and slid it open.

The Doge spoke again, and both the skulking man and the translator left us without a word. The Doge kept his eyes on me as we heard the door from along the corridor slam shut.

He exhaled, “My condolences on your brother.” He said in a clear Bervian accent. It was better than Anna’s. “However, I must be brutally honest. If the drunk god has shined on you, and you have the best luck in the city. Then they may have just made a slave of your brother rather than killed him. I wouldn’t hold out any hope of that. The people that have him are savages, and a Kling is of little worth to them. So, my offer still holds. You are better off to leave this city and forget about your brother. He is probably already dead anyway. With my influence, I could get you as far as Vidlaia on a merchant’s caravan. There, you will be safe and live a better life than you would here. This city has nothing for you but death.”

I was in such awe at how well he spoke that his words went over me. “You know Bervian?” “Obviously.”

“How is it that you speak it so clearly?”

He frowned “I was taught it. How else?”

I looked at him blankly with a low-hanging jaw. The dialect was pitch-perfect. If it wasn’t for his flat nose and his pale complexion, I would have thought he had spent his life on the hills.

He began to look annoyed, “Please take that stupid look off your face and heed my words. Run. Leave this city behind you. It’s not every day that you get a pardon from a Doge after killing one of his citizens.”

“But the person I-“

Doge Rolof held up a palm, “I do not know, nor care of the details. What say you? Quickly now. I have little time.”

I let out a breath.

The offer was tempting. Especially after all that I had been through. I knew stronger men who would jump at the opportunity. I’d suspect that even Caine would have understood. If he was alive that was. Still, there was no way I could leave without at least knowing. Even though we had our differences, he stuck with me for as long as he could. I owed him as much to do the same.

“I’m sorry but no. If that means that I die, even by way of execution, then that’s the fate that my god Henralta has chosen for me. Whether my brother is alive or dead I need to find his whereabouts. He is all I have left.”

Doge Rolof tutted, “You realize that what I am offering you is for this time only. That if you decide against it, this opportunity will be lost.”

I considered his words for a moment. “I am sorry, I cannot abandon the last of my tribe.”

His eyes flickered, “Very well, then listen hillman. You have entered a snake pit disguised as a brothel. You will be bitten with poison fangs and think they are kisses. By the time you realize what happened, everything around you would have burned.” He took a step to the side, “Learn to lie better than those in your company, it’s the only hope you will have.” He pointed down the corridor “Head down there, at the end you’ll find the door that leads to a set of stairs, go down the stairs and keep walking, eventually, you’ll see the light.”

I moved past him quickly. Before he had the chance to change his mind, I was halfway down the corridor.

He called out: “Oh and hill man, tell Raina that we are now even.”