Chapter 040: Of Beards, Pilgrims And Flying Lizards
"When
the wind blows you will know
Then
to a hollow place we go"
The
Spell - Tribe after Tribe
It was hard to believe that the big ship with its breached hull, its torn
and splintered masts, and its sails nothing more than ragged and torn playthings
for the wind, had at one time been able to soar freely through the air. Now,
however, there was no way that it would ever become airborne again. It must have
crashed into the side of the cliff from which I was looking down upon it, hurled
against the uncompromising rock surface by the violent storm winds that
relentlessly scourged this world. I drew my cloak closer around me as I watched
the tiny human figures below construct some kind of shelter at a small distance
away from the wreckage. Their misfortune was my luck, I guess: at least now I
would be able to find out more about this world and its inhabitants, and perhaps
I'd even get a clue as to what I was supposed to do here. According to Fi I
would probably have to start looking for some kind of highly symbolic and
legendary object, which would be located on one of the floating islands that
constituted this world. Let's see what the locals' legends had to say about the
thing.
It took me about an hour to find a suitable ledge that led me downwards
into a more hilly region. Carefully I tried to find my way towards the crashed
ship without being seen by its crew, in order to observe them a while beore
making contact. They all appeared to be male, with long hair and long flowing
beards. Their dress consisted of practical trousers and short, tight-fitting
coats. Most of them appeared to be armed, and there were a few people standing
guard, although they hadn't been posted effectively enough to prevent me from
coming so close while remaining unseen. Those who weren't on guard duty were
busy trying to repair their ship, a hopeless cause if ever I saw one.
Without too much difficulty I managed to crawl away from the ship, after
which I approached them once more, this time making sure they would spot me
immediately. I simply didn't want to get them all jumpy by suddenly showing up
in the middle of their camp. Sure enough, the guards spotted me alright, and
before I had even crossed half the distance to the ship the alarm had the whole
crew standing ready, regarding me suspiciously. Some of the watchers made some
strange gestures and they all looked pretty surprised at my appearance. I
realised that I must seem odd to them, since I was completely clean-shaven.
"Wait a minute," I heard Fiona's mental voice. "There,
that should do the trick. You should be able to understand them now. Just call
if it's not working right." I quickly thanked her and turned my attention
back to my welcoming committee. Yes, I could understand them alright, but I
couldn't say I was happy to hear what they were saying. As I draw nearer I heard
several mutterings of "Sacrilege" and "Blasphemy".
"Perhaps he's the Saviour...," a young man ventured in a soft
voice, but he was immediately cut short by many of the others.
"No, no," they said, "you know it's
only a fairy tale."
When I had finally come within ten meters from the
crowd, one man stepped forward to address me.
"The Sword be with you, stranger," he said.
"The Sword be with you too," I said,
hoping that it was the appropriate reply. "As you can see I am indeed a
stranger in these parts. Could you please tell me where I am?"
"This is the sixth island," the man
replied. "Which island are you from?"
"I'm not from any island," I said. This
news was met by a number of outbursts from the crowd.
"I told you so," one hissed.
"Oh, shut up," another muttered.
"He's come from the Underworld," a third
insisted.
"I come from elsewhere," I said
patiently, in an effort to steer the conversation away from any talk about
demons and such things. The young man who had earlier speculated on my being the
Saviour (whoever that was) hesitantly stepped forward to address me.
"Do you perhaps come from the thirteenth island?" he asked.
"Nonsense!" someone said before I could
answer. "There's no such thing." The young man turned towards the
crowd with a serious expression.
"That's not true," he said, "I have
seen it in my dreams. The thirteenth island does exists and we should try to
reach it. Only there will it be found. The Prophet has come to show us the
way." There wasn't any doubt about who that was supposed to be.
An older man with a worn-out expression snorted and said: "Your
Prophet will first explain why he appears before us looking like a woman. Had
there been a priestess present, he would have been executed as soon as he had
shown his face." Oops! Good thing there weren't any of those priestesses
here and that the men weren't apparently so strict in their beliefs.
"Look," I said, "I'm not some kind
of messenger or prophet, I'm just a traveller. I wasn't aware of any customs
having to do with the growing of beards and stuff. If I had known, I would have
come prepared."
Another young man took a tentative step forwards. "Are men allowed
to shave where you come from?" he asked with an expression showing nothing
but distaste.
"Yes," I said with a shrug, as if it were
no big deal.
"And your women approve of this?"
"Yes, they do." A wave of general
unbelief spread through the crowd, accompanied by some more cries and whispers
denouncing me as a heretic and blasphemer.
"So you don't actually know where the
thirteenth island is?" the young dreamer asked, looking crestfallen. I
quickly shot a mental question through to Fiona: did she know anything about
this?
"It sounds all very symbolical," she
commented. "Maybe the thirteenth island is our objective as well. It's
certainly mythical enough." I turned my attention back to the young man.
"No," I said, "I don't know where it is, but I am
searching for it, just like you."
"So you're a pilgrim?" several people
concluded. I shrugged, for in a sense I was.
"We are pilgrims too," the young man
asserted. "We are looking for the Sword that will save the world. Once we
have found it, the storm winds will all die down and our lives will be at peace
again." His eyes shone as he spoke these words and I sighed inwardly. I've
never been able to remain very patient around religious people, especially the
more devout and fanatical ones. "Alas," the young man continued,
"our ship has crashed, severely hampering us in our quest. But perhaps
yours is still whole?" he asked, looking hopefully at me.
"I'm sorry," I said, "but no. Your ship is in pretty bad
shape, though."
"Oh, but we'll be able to repair it
soon," several of the men exclaimed. I saw a couple of the older and more
experienced sailors shake their heads pessimistically, though, and instead of
working on the ship they went and tried to finish the makeshift shelter. It
appeared that I had been more or less accepted by these people, and to show my
goodwill I went and lend the old men a hand. They steadily kept on working, and
now and then I noticed one or two of them casting an anxious glance at the sky
overhead. I followed their gazes, but since I could see nothing out of the
ordinary I gave the man closest to me a puzzled look.
"It's got to be ready before the mohai come," he growled and
spat on the ground.
"The mohai?" I said.
"Aren't there any mohai where you come
from?" he asked in complete surprise. "Which island do you hail from
anyway?" I sighed: here we go again!
"I'm from Amber," I said, but as I had
expected that didn't mean anything to them. "The island with no
number," I tried with a slight smile, and saw that this really had them all
confused. Islands had to have numbers, didn't they? How could there be an island
with no number? While most of them were puzzling over this seeming
contradiction, one man explained to me that mohai were giant flying lizards,
which had turned extremely hostile and aggressive when the storms had started.
Before that time they used to be quite meek and peaceful, but nowadays they had
taken to attacking people, even when they were safely on a ship.
The man had just finished his tale when we were startled by a series of
shrill and violent shrieks. Swiftly a group of five flying beasts, probably the
mohai we had been talking about, came gliding towards the camp. Around me people
started running for shelter, but I couldn't help but watch as the beasts dove
straight towards us, working hard to stay out of the wind's murderous grasp.
Someone was tugging at my sleeve: it was the young dreamer, who urgently started
dragging me to a safe spot. I smiled a bit at his concern for me. Apparently he
still believed there was something special about me after all.
Huddled behind a couple of sturdy wooden boards I resumed my observation
of the mohai. For all their spectacular agility and skill at flying they didn't
appear to be able to approach the camp, due to the hazardous cross winds that
howled around the cliff. After a couple of minutes of pure frustration one of
the beasts got angry enough to brave these winds, but as soon as it came down,
it was snatched up and smashed against the cliff wall. For only a second or two
it seemed to hang there, then it tumbled downwards to collapse upon the remains
of the ship, emitting a loud and plaintive shriek going all the way down. Its
pals kept circling around for a while longer, but then they apparently decided
that we were just not worth the risk and departed for safer regions.
As soon as the other mohai had gone I quickly walked towards the ship,
avoiding any possible attacks from the one that had been left behind. I could
see that it was still alive, and it even didn't seem to be in a really bad
condition; at least, I saw no blood or signs of broken bones. Tough critters!
Closer and closer I crept, keeping my eyes on the beast all the time. It was
weakly flapping its wings and shaking its head dazedly, but as soon as I had
come within its reach it tried to tear me open with its menacing-looking beak,
which I only barely managed to avoid. Before it could try to attack me once more
I darted forward and touched the beast right behind its head, sending a strong
pacifying mental command straight to its brain. Fortunately it worked, otherwise
I would have been torn to pieces in a matter of seconds.
Sifting information from an animal mind is never easy, but even so I soon
found out why the mohai were so aggressive of late: it was indeed linked to the
storms. The poor creatures were in some way completely bonded with their
environment, with which they used to be in a state of perfect harmony. The
sudden and violent shift in the weather had made them all mad, bad and dangerous
to know. Too much adrenalin... I put all my powers to
bear to somehow weaken or diminish this creature's link with the outside
world, and it worked: it calmed down right away, and it even let me pet it. That
man's story had indeed been true: deep down the mohai were very peaceful and
friendly.
Now that the creature was calm and at ease, I had time to go through its
mind once more. I learned that the mohai were migratory animals. They had some
kind of uncanny sixth sense for determining heights which enabled them to find
their way from island to island. Apparently these islands were grouped in some
sort of climbing scale. Unfortunately, the creature had no sense of numbers, so
I couldn't find out how many islands there actually were, so I still had no idea
whether this mythical thirteenth island really existed or not, and if it did
which one it was supposed to be. Hmm, I might be able to steer the mohai from
island to island, though, and if there were a thirteenth island I would
certainly find it, given time. However, I had to stay close to the beast to keep
it calm, so I would at least need someone else who could help me with matters of
food and such. Besides, it also might be useful to have someone come along who
knew a bit more about this world. For the first time since my contact with the
mohai I glanced around and saw all the people standing at a safe distance,
regarding me dubiously. I noticed the face of the young dreamer and on a whim I
beckoned him to come closer.
"Listen," I said in a hushed voice, so that only he could hear
me, "I have more or less managed to tame this little beastie, for as long
as it lasts of course, and I intend to ride it to the thirteenth island."
"You do know where it is!" he exclaimed
eagerly.
"No, I don't," I said quickly, "but
I'm going to find it anyway." The young man's shoulder sagged.
"Are you really going to ride a mohai?"
he asked a bit fearfully.
"I don't see why not," I said.
"But everybody knows it's forbidden. The
priestesses..."
"Well, tough luck!" I interjected.
"This ship of yours is way beyond repair, and I simply can see no other way
of getting out of here." He looked a bit overwhelmed by my violent
outburst; it only seemed to have strengthened his awe for me.
"What's your name?" I asked him in a bit
more friendly tone.
"Venzai," he said.
"Okay, Venzai, what would you say if I asked
you to come with me?"
"Me?" he stammered. "But... but, I'm
still very young. I'm sure there must be older and wiser men, oh Prophet, to
serve you."
"Oh, I'm sure there are too, but I'm asking
you. And please forget about that Prophet business."
"Well, if you say so," he said, still
looking quite doubtful. "But what about my friends, my fellow
pilgrims?"
"I'm afraid there's only room for two."
He considered this for a moment, then he said: "I'll go and tell
them." I waited beside the mohai while Venzai explained my plans to his
friends. I couldn't hear their reactions, but it was plain that most of them
thought both me and Venzai to be completely mad to try something like this.
There were only a few people who were sorry to see Venzai leave or who even
begrudged him his role as my companion. My appearance here would probably serve
as the basis for a lot of new legends about the Prophet, I guess.
Venzai disappeared for a couple of minutes before returning with a
backpack filled with food and other useful items. I asked him to get me such a
package as well, which he did by scrounging around in the wreckage of the ship.
With a length of rope we managed to construct some kind of a rigging that would
allow us to steer the mohai while sitting tightly and securely on its back.
However, we had to direct the creature to an outcrop before it could manage to
become airborne with all the extra ballast it had to carry.
I asked Venzai which island was the highest of the ones he knew, and he
told me it was the tenth. I had the feeling that the island we were looking for
was either the highest or the lowest of the lot, so I decided to start by going
as high as possible. In the next couple of days the mohai took us from the sixth
to the eighth and from the eighth to the tenth island. We didn't encounter any
people or any specific troubles on our way, although the higher islands were
more desolate and yielded little food. From Venzai I learned that the lowest
islands were the most lushly vegetated ones, and that most people chose to live
there. We spent a lot of time talking and he told me a few things about his
society, where the priestesses were the ruling classes. Nowadays they seldom
left the cities on the lower islands, though, leaving the dangerous task of
braving the storm winds to the more expendable males.
Venzai himself was pretty good company, although I couldn't convince him
to stop thinking of me as the Prophet. Then again in a way I wasn't altogether
convinced myself that I wasn't supposed this Prophet or Saviour. These kinds of
legends have a strange way of fitting themselves to passing Amberites. Still, I
wondered what would happen if we finally found the Sword that Venzai kept
mentioning. He couldn't tell me anything specific about it, only that it was
needed to restore order to this world. That didn't mean, however, that that
would be my purpose as well: I might need the Sword to do something else
altogether.
When we had scrounged around for and had found some new supplies on the tenth island, and we were ready to continue our journey, I once again told the mohai to go to the next highest island. This time the creature became confused, though. I felt that it did know of a higher place, but somehow it wasn't the right time to go there. It seemed to have something to do with the mohai's mating season! Well, we didn't have time to wait for that, so I gently planted the suggestion in our mount's mind that it was the right time of the year. The result was startling: the creature rushed forward and began wildly to flap its wings, gathering as much speed as it could. Poor beast! Wouldn't it be disappointed when we got there and it turned out to be the only one of its kind present. I reflected, however, that this would be better for us, for while there was no trouble with controlling one mohai, a whole flock of them would be a totally different matter. Good thing it wasn't mating season after all!