Page 2

"Thank you, my God, my Lord. Father of all Truth," Eshfen whispered as he touched the flame carved into a wooden pole almost as thick as his torso. The pole was just one of many that supported a wide wooden pier that connected the shore to a series of large stilt houses; magnificent structures that could inspire awe in his soul despite his fatigue. The wood they were made of shone, sanded to resist the salt, and rich decorations were carved into the poles, handrails, doors and window frames.

At the sight of the symbol, Sidio and Mali heaved long sighs of relief. They thanked their Lord in voices trembling with fatigue.

"Let's find the trapdoor," Eshfen ordered. They quickly spotted it, in the middle of what must have been the floor of the nearest stilt house. The trapdoor was ajar, allowing a faint blade of light to pass through. Just as they looked at it, it opened abruptly, revealing the face of a girl who bore a striking resemblance to the captain of the fishing boat.

"Welcome to Lenna," the girl whispered. She smiled and tossed them a thick rope.

Eshfen pulled himself up first. The long swim in the icy waters of the sea had numbed his legs and arms, despite his uniform. His fingers and toes were stiff, the skin on his palms and fingertips wrinkled. Though the ascent was short, he felt as if he were climbing a mountain.

He looked around as he stepped over the wooden edge, meeting the girl's tense gaze and struggling to keep his balance. Now that the waves were no longer opposing him, it felt almost unnatural to move. As if his body had become very light and too weak at the same time.

Mali and Sidio emerged from the trapdoor shortly after him, trembling and with pale faces.

All three of them were chattering their teeth so loudly that they made a low, eerie ticking sound.

The girl knew what to do. She pointed them to some heavy blankets she had placed right next to the trapdoor. She took a few steps back, her eyes downcast, then turned and walked to one of the many rows of shelves that filled the warehouse. She waited.

Eshfen began to strip off his uniform and ordered the auxiliaries, "Quick, get undressed and dry before you freeze to death."

The fabric was still relatively warm as he pulled it off his torso and then his legs. Without these extraordinary garments, he told himself, the operation was based on nothing. But it was a relief to feel the thick blanket over his shoulders.

"Sit down, my lords," the girl said, pointing to stools around a low wooden table set in a corner of the warehouse. She poured steaming liquid into large brown glass cups and waited for them to approach. As they sat down, she placed small baskets of dark bread, honey, dried fish, and spiced cheese on the small table.

Eshfen nodded in agreement and let the helpers eat first. All bundled up, their cheeks flushed and their mouths full of food, they looked awfully young. But he had long since stopped associating youth with innocence. He wondered if they saw him the same way. A man far from his thirties, with the lightest skin and hair, gray eyes that looked almost white.

But Eshfen had never felt young. He had seen too much horror, shed too much blood to believe that age guaranteed any kind of right to serenity or protection.

He drank the infusion and recognized it. Green Avendira tea.

He turned to the girl who was standing in a corner staring at the floor, "My men need to rest. Come back in an hour. I trust that everything we asked for will be ready when we wake up." Actually, he had no intention of sleeping. But to set off again after that devastating swim would be foolish. All three needed some time to regain their strength. The most critical part of the mission was approaching.

The girl nodded quickly. She kept her hands crossed in her lap, so tight that her knuckles whitened, and only looked up for brief moments.

"In an hour. I will be nearby. If you need me, knock on the door," she whispered, then quickly left the warehouse, closing the heavy wooden door behind her.

When Sidio and Mali had cleared away the food and downed the brew, Eshfen pointed to the stretch of floor between the table and the wall.

"Let's lie down for a while."

"Would you like me to stand guard, missionary Eshfen? I will watch over everyone," Sidio said. He avoided Eshfen's gaze. Was he trying to win back his approval after bringing them to the brink of failure at sea?

Eshfen looked at him hard, but knew this was neither the time nor the place to discuss it. He shook his head. "We will all rest. Let's use our soft songs and sleep to regain our strength. Then we will be on our way."

Mali went first and lay down against the wall. Sidio lay down next to her, and Eshfen rested on his side with his back to the table.

As the two huddled under the blankets, Eshfen pressed them together, the warmth of their bodies helping to drive away the cold. He spread the right flap of the large blanket over all three of them. Then he began to whisper a prayer, a very low chant that lulled them to sleep before it was over.

"Oh Rahmadu, God of Ashes,

Fire upon all darkness.

Oh Rahmadu, bearer of all radiance,

Slayer of every oppressor.

Deliver us from the shadows, our Savior."

He went on to repeat the verse three times. By his last words, Mali and Sidio were asleep.

The girl approached, trying not to make too much noise, but she carried large bags on her shoulders that made her clumsy. She placed them on the wooden floor a step away and said, "Here are the clothes you asked for. And the weapons."

Eshfen woke his aides and told them to get dressed quickly.

"Did they give you something for me, girl?"

She nodded and pulled a translucent cylinder about the size of a finger from the folds of her skirt. The object was split in two by a strip of gold as thick as a ring.

Eshfen twisted the lower part to the right and the upper part to the left until a needle emerged, with which he pricked his thumb. He immediately felt an intense heat that took his breath away and had to stifle a groan.

His palm glowed.

Eshfen sent the girl away, "We will join you when we are ready." He stood, still wrapping the blankets around his body as she obeyed. Then he put some distance between himself and the helpers.

He doubted that what he was about to read was addressed to him alone, but he was not entirely sure. So he closed his eyes and watched the light coming from under his skin. It faded quickly, giving way to a series of words that glowed in his palm:

Missionary Eshfen, I pray that my words will reach you at the most auspicious time and that the mission our Lord has entrusted to you will proceed in the best way.

I have been given the honor of providing you with additional light to guide your steps. Finally, I can confirm that the items you are to retrieve are kept in a mansion not far from your location, along the rocky shores of the island. In order to get past the mansion's defenses, you and your assistants will need to pose as caretakers. The vault is protected by an Artifact lock. To open it, you will need the blood of the owner and he will have to recite the words "Hovver Custodio, Deja Sciello." Make sure he pronounces them correctly, or your efforts will be in vain, missionary.

I am proud of you and proud of your aides.

May Rahmadu guide all three of you and watch over your footsteps.

Eshfen's hand stopped glowing, and the words of the High Priest Baron Glau faded.

Eshfen slipped on breeches and a thick cotton tunic, a waistcoat with silk or linen inserts, a carefully woven wool jacket with an embroidered hood. All in shades of brown, bronze, and some gold accents; not exactly fine clothing, but the servants of wealthy merchants could not wear rags.

As long as he kept his hood up, no one would notice his hair. It had never really been a problem for him. In a way, the fact that this detail identified him as a foreigner made him proud.

He finished putting on his leather boots and went out with Mali and Sidio.

The girl was waiting for them at the end of the inner pier, where the wooden path joined the stone wall rising from the sea. She held two black horses by the bridles. They looked young and strong.

"I was expecting three mounts," Eshfen pointed out.

She kept her gaze fixed on the large blocks of stone that lined the walkway. Behind her, a wide road led to the inner harbor.

Eshfen could hear voices and music in the distance. A tavern nearby, perhaps.

"You're right, my lord, but there was a snag..."

"You little wretch, you better keep your word," Sidio said, even taking a step toward her.

Eshfen glared at him. He did not have to move a muscle to make it clear that he did not appreciate the attitude. "I am very disappointed, girl. But I will deal with your father later," he told the girl in a low but firm voice.

She nodded slowly, then took a deep breath as if to gather her courage. "I have been ordered to tell you that the villa of the Artisan Ochorus Vallo will soon run out of spiced wine. They will send for more in the hope that the guests will not be offended." She looked to her right, where the coast rose on rock formations rising from the sea. The villa was at the top of a headland. Even from this distance, the flicker of light from it was impressive, contrasting with the colors of the darkening sky.

Wine was their excuse. They would break into the mansion to bring drinks and come out with infinitely valuable items.

Eshfen mounted one horse, Mali and Sidio shared the other. In silence, they rode to their destination.

Getting out of the confines of the harbor area was easy. The constant bustle of fishermen, merchants, and workers of all sorts afforded them relative anonymity, but Eshfen continued to cast his eyes over every man, woman, and child they passed. Had any of them noticed his unusual height or the pallor of his skin, uncomfortable questions could arise in moments.

He could not afford it.

Not at this time.

As he tightened the reins and spurred the horse on, he cursed the fishing boat captain and his children through clenched teeth. He did not like the idea of having to rely on only two horses to escape.

And no matter how strong and well-fed the animals were, the weight of Sidio and Mali could mean the difference between life and death.

He banished those worries before they could rob him of the focus he needed, keeping his gaze fixed on the nearly empty country road.

The wind picked up. On the horizon, just above the headland where the mansion of Ochorus Vallo stood, a patch of sky was almost completely clear.

Seeing the structure’s shape more clearly, Eshfen tilted his head in appreciation. Carved from the golden stone typical of this part of Kenjir, it towered above the rock overhanging the sea. Its design resembled an open hand with the palm facing up, with five large towers around a central dome. The entire structure glowed under the newly rising moon, with its rays cutting a swath through the fleeting clouds.

Sidio whistled in appreciation, and even Mali joined in with a grunt. In their language, so devoid of commentary, it sounded like a great compliment.

All three had studied the plan of the manor and memorised the path leading from the imposing inner walls to the room where the artefacts were kept. But no map could have done justice to such an architectural spectacle.

Admiration was soon followed by contempt.

Ochorus Vallo was just one of many merchants who populated the Covenant Guild, an organization that was a festering sore on the face of Kenjir. And the one true God, Rahmadu, was sickened by the overwhelming power of this disgustingly wealthy group of smugglers. The Lords of Lenna were about to be judged. A fate of blood and purification awaited them.

The same fate awaited the three city-states. The wrath of the one who would bring light to Kenjir, the liberator of his peoples, loomed over Larsa, Urook, Napur and their false gods.

Eshfen filled his mind with worship and fervor.

Then he spurred the beast on, again and again.

As they approached, Vallo's mansion grew larger and more imposing. They realized that the outer walls also encompassed a modest expanse of smaller buildings, resembling a small town.

A town in celebration, judging by the lights and joyful sounds.

Stopping at a crossroads that marked the beginning of Vallo's private property, Eshfen watched the slope of the hill. To the left, it led up to small coves of pristine sandy beaches surrounded by rocks and patches of low vegetation whipped by the wind and sea foam.

To the right, the slope pointed towards the center of the island. Beyond the expanse of dense trees, tall and green all year round, rose a series of hills that soon became mountains. At the center of the peaks was Lenna, the wealthy town that gave its name to the whole island.

Eshfen looked at the lush trees that grew thickly ahead of them, forming a patch of deep green. They had broad, strong branches that intertwined to form a kind of natural roof, covering the road they were about to travel and creating a tunnel.

His attention was drawn to what was happening on the horizon. There was a hint of movement and unease outside the huge wooden gates that closed the entrance to the city. A small group of people seemed to be in the midst of a heated discussion. Some had were armed, the elusive moonlight reflecting off the iron of their armor and spears. Others were probably guests or servants, but it was impossible to tell from such a distance.

"The girl said that the spiced wine was about to run out. Perhaps they have already decided to send someone to replenish it," Mali said. She kept her voice low, as if any of Vallo's guests might hear her. Just as she spoke, thin strands of light rose from each of the towers and flew into the sky. Then they exploded into a burst of brilliant shapes: petals, leaves, branches, and wings that turned into a cascade of gold, emerald, and lava sparks.

"Fireworks," Sidio chuckled. "The people of Lenna know how to have fun, huh? This show would make even Napuri jealous."

Eshfen let the wind carry those comments away, admiring the explosions that lit up the night which had just descended upon the island. But he did not let this fleeting beauty distract him from a simple reality. Soon, Ochorus Vallo would have little desire to celebrate.

The discussion at the gates soon faded, and the group rode toward the harbor.

Toward them.

"Let's hide," Eshfen commanded, pointing to the thicket ahead. "If our people have their calculations right, these men will soon be returning to the mansion with a wagon loaded with barrels of wine."

Eshfen was amazed and pleased to see that the fishing boat captain's daughter had indeed been right. He was perched on a wide, mighty branch. Together with dozens of others, it formed the natural tunnel he had noticed earlier.

He leaned his back against the trunk, forcing himself to breathe evenly, his eyes searching for his helpers. Sidio was on the other side of the road, leaning over an equally imposing branch, but a little lower, holding on to the trunk with one hand. The other held a short, curved blade.

Mali was to Eshfen's right, lying on her stomach on a large branch that jutted out toward those growing in the opposite direction. The helper held her left knee bent downward, the heel almost touching her other leg. In the hand on the same side she held a dagger with a serrated blade. From the way her eyes darted to the road and then to the entrance of the tree tunnel, Eshfen knew she was more than ready to act.

It was not long before Vallo's men returned in a carriage drawn by galloping horses.

Of the four men who had left the mansion, two now drove the carriage. Another led the way on a steed in front of them, and the last completed the procession by riding at a reasonable distance from the load.

Eshfen waited for the group to enter the tunnel. When they were close enough, he motioned to Mali.

She nodded.

Gracefully, almost as if to take flight, the auxiliary shifted her weight on the branch and dropped to her left side.

To Eshfen's eyes, Mali looked like a wraith, a wind-tossed shadow. She hovered downward, pointing her weapon at the man on horseback, who had no idea how close his end was.

Another nod to Sidio. The young man gripped the trunk tightly with his hand and gave himself the impetus to throw himself over the branch. As he fell, he clenched his teeth as if hungry and opened his eyes wide. He raised the curved blade and swung it violently.

Eshfen watched Mali, Sidio, and the men below as if they were all moving on a stage that was both distant and annoyingly close. He did so as he leapt from his branch, wielding a double-edged blade.

His muscles remembered a thousand battles and the rain of blood that had fallen upon his skin in years of faithful service. His limbs knew how to ignore pain and give as much of it away as possible. So he held his legs tight and flew down like a column of stone.

He fell right between the two guards driving the carriage, met the terrified gaze of the man to his left, and silenced him with a blow to the throat that made him spit blood. A moment later, he delivered a blow to the neck of the man to his right. A single clean cut, then a kick to knock him off the bench and down toward the path.

Eshfen caught the speed of Mali's movements out of the corner of his eye. The helper grabbed the shoulders of the rider in front of them, using the force of the fall to drag him to the ground as she wrapped her legs around his body. The man screamed as she sliced through him with the serrated blade.

Eshfen nailed the dagger into the wood of the bench, grabbed the reins to slow the ride, and turned to finish off the man to his left. The man wrapped one hand around his throat and tried to shield himself with the other. He cried softly, his face red with pain, perhaps trying to beg for mercy out of fear.

Eshfen had seen many such looks. They rarely revealed the true character of the men and women who had defied the will of the God of Ashes, whether they realized it or not. In his eyes, to hesitate was to display the same hypocrisy as the false gods that haunted Kenjir. Those beings made decisions every day in the name of a power they were not supposed to wield.

So he drew from his boot a needle as long as a finger and as thick as a nail. With it, he extinguished the light in the man's eyes forever.

"Oh Rahmadu, bearer of all radiance,

Slayer of every oppressor.

Deliver us from the shadows, our Savior."

He whispered the prayer as he brought the carriage to a stop and pushed the body away just before the end of the tree tunnel.

He looked back. Sidio had already brought a Tamer's whistle to his lips. He blew into it with all his strength, producing a deep, vibrato sound that seemed capable of piercing through bone.

The steed that had carried the unhorsed man, startled by the screams and the battle, stopped galloping after a short kick.

Sidio approached the animal calmly, one hand raised, and stroked its neck. He whistled at it again, this time softly. Mali, not far away, did the same with the other horse.

Eshfen snapped his fingers to get their attention. "Let's hide the bodies."