[The Anagolay]
Whoosh. Whoosh.
I wake to unnatural sharp alertness. At once I know I am tied upside down, searched and stripped with weapons, swinging back and forth. I am left of the scarf obscuring my features. We have been drugged on that house to make us pass out.
How, damn it! We were not darted. Was it the candle? All the blood rushing to my head is not making me think straight and my stomach is cramped. It must be days later.
Looking about, there is not much to see but contours of a room for the place is dim and deserted. Where am I? Where are the others?
I try my binds tied on my torso to my legs but I cannot move my arm or any of my fingers. I cannot bend to reach my feet either. Grunting, I hear a scratching sound like boots on a floor.
"Anagolay?"
Groggy but it is Lila's voice, whispering not far from me.
"Lila? Where are you?"
Another shifting scratching noise. She must be lying down. "I am right behind you. You're upside down."
"I know that. Can you stand?"
"Wait… My hands and feet are tied…" she says, struggling as I hear her try and stand. Amusingly, a Mystic is tied by a petty rope.
"What is this place? Where are we? Where are the others?" She hops and eventually I see her feet before me.
"We have been captured," she gasps.
"Really, what gave it away?"
"Seriously Anagolay. My satchel, my dagger, they took it–"
"Of course, they took it so shut it and untie me."
"Sanim… Could he be?"
"Stop panicking and untie me kid."
Whatever she is doing, it is making me feel worse being rocked like a boat on turbulent waters. I realize too late that she was putting her weight to mine. Then, a snap and I hit the floor face first. I groan.
Curses Lila, bloody–
I think I let out all the cuss words I know in the languages I speak. Twisting, I see her smugly staring me down.
"You're welcome."
Biting her binds is the solution she settles on. Like a mouse. She barely made progress on it after minutes of trying when we hear a sound on the far corner. I cringe my neck to look on the shadows, but it stopped.
"I think there's someone else here with us…" She whispers.
Ku… Ku…
We exchange looks. "Is… is someone there?" Lila asks.
"P… Please," very softly, a voice replies in Thraine's tongue. I have to move closer to hear him articulate. It does not sound like Sanim.
The identity of our captors is clear now; our contact was a Thraine after all.
"Help me…" Lila makes to stand.
/Do not even think about it./
She shots me her abhorred look again.
"Try and break free from this first," I nod to the rope tightly wound on us both. She resorts to biting again. I roll my eyes.
"Do you have any better idea?"
"My boots."
She blinks, realizing. "You could have mentioned that first." As she maneuvers my right boot for the knife hidden on it, we hear a moan of painful meaning. Like a wounded animal whimpering. His cries continue as Lila finally got hold of the knife.
Slicing the ropes on her feet, she follows with her hands then on my binds. The source of the whimpers decides to crawl, I guess by the sound of it, crawling on his stomach and we finally see him on our left-hand side.
"Help me."
The boy, of age and height similar to Lila, is indeed a Thraine. A bronze band on his left arm between his elbow and shoulder marks him out as a slave. Wan spots and gashes on his skin indicated that he was beaten. He is bleeding on his nose and mouth too.
She stoops to help him up, he groans. Slaves are rarely mistreated by Thraine. They think of them as human despite being a property and only those who committed a fatal misconduct are punished.
/He must be trouble, Lila./
She deliberately ignores me. "You okay?" she asks in their tongue.
"Yes…"
I explore our prison as she plays charity. On all sides are stone bricks, I cannot find a door. It is currently evening, for on one wall are small holes to let light enter and enough to let me peek on the outside.
"We can help you…"
We?
"Do you know where we are?"
"Il–" he chokes. "I–Ilysus…"
My head jerks at them. Ilysus city? Curse it! Stinking, curse it. This city is not a Thraine but an Aeonnite one, the next city over Bessilus. They work together now? I kick the wall only to regret it and curse again.
"Had a fill?"
Gritting my teeth, I face them, the boy nursing his stomach. "You," I bunch his shirt in my fist. His head withdraws in terror.
"Did you see who brought us here?"
His lips tremble as he speaks, "Soldiers. Local Thraine. They dropped you off after me…"
"Just the two of us?" He nods.
Tato, Denai… they are probably flogged, tortured or dead.
"Anagolay," Lila interrupts my thoughts. "He says the door is over there."
With two strides I am at the door looking for the keyhole. They peer beside me as I pick the lock with the tools I had the courtesy to keep in my boots.
Click.
Turning, I say to Lila in my native tongue. "Leave him."
"What?"
"You suddenly cannot understand my dialect?"
"We can't just abandon him," she hisses in Gakaloai.
"You cannot, I can." Opening the door cautiously, I ready for assault. When push comes to shove, every man for himself. Planning to take our sentries by surprise, I dash.
There is no one around.
Strange.
Lila and the slave boy staggers out. We are at the end of a long hallway, as dim on the inside. There is something off with this scenario, not just because there is no one guarding our door, the hallway is empty and deadly quiet.
"I–I know this place…" the boy says. "My master works in this city. He–he resides in this house. This hallway opens to a gallery then to a drawing room."
"He can help us," she implores. I roll my eyes.
"Fine, lead the way."
At the gallery, we meet two Thraine soldiers. "Go! Go!"
I disarm one as I hit an elbow on his face then exchange blows with his partner. He recovered fast but I dispose his ally, kneed him on the stomach and he faints.
Easy. Too easy.
The drawing room is as empty but a few furniture. Slave boy limps to a cabinet door that turns out to be a narrow passageway to a huge space. Beams, a total of six flanked us, supporting the roof with large light wells streaming with the moonlight. The deep recesses of corners are backlit, I do not know where it ends or begins.
Spying about, I am unsettled. Eyes are glued on us, watching our every move.
I beckon Lila. "What?"
"Get behind me, kid."
The space fills with people that was not there before. Hooded men in dark clothing, hands on scimitars. As soon as I sighted them, I attack.
Blade strikes blade, ringing in my ears. Another strange thing, they are not attacking me at once, instead it is like a duel is happening. We parry in Kitchra and I overpower my current foe, a man replaces the previous one and it goes on.
I defeated at least seven of them, but there are more. On my peripheral, Lila is coerced to kneel with a scimitar on her neck. Catching my breath, I am lock in a fight with a man shorter than me.
He disarms my weapon and kicks hard on my side, I wince. I resort to hand to hand combat. It is futile. In a minute he had me on my knees.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
I stiffen. Every clap echoes, skipping a beat in my heart as cold beads of sweat runs my neck to my spine.
"Very good." That voice, angst and trembling before, booms with tenor of confidence and authority.
The slave boy strides towards me without the limp he formerly had. Warriors part ways to let him through while he wipes away the garnish on his skin. He was never hurt and he throws the bronze band to a man on his right.
"It was quite convincing, your method."
I glance at his clothes, one that I overlooked. No slave would be dressed in exquisite silken vest and baggy trousers both heavily embroidered with gold.
He smirks, catching my eye. "Your oversight."
He signals, and Lila is brought beside me.
"Who…" she falters.
"I would say it is a pleasure to meet you–" he is handed with a piece of cloth, a headdress matching his clothes and he ties it around his forehead. "–but for someone using deceit as an art, you disappointed me."
Large gold coins dangle near his temples. An insignia of teardrop shape but with the right curve paunchier than the other, rigid lines and smooth swirls in alternating pattern make up the inside; embellished on the coins. Thraine's crest.
"When did the Anagolay became foolishly empathetic?"
Flummoxed, I fail to respond. "Vanuyan. How nice is it to be aided by the Anagolay?" Lila's breath hitches.
"I do not know what you are talking about." I voice out.
"Die with the lie," he muses.
How could he possibly know that? Who is this boy?
"Your reputation precedes you.–" the boy encircles me, surveying head to foot, my clothes. To my boots his gaze lingers. "–You are a master of Kitchra, a linguist. And the attitude, tsk, tsk."
Every little thing I did, he noted. Curse it. "Bring them in."
Aiming to stand, my head is whack with a hilt. Blood instantly oozes out. I seethe at the short man who did it. Later, Juba, Tato and Denai, tied with ropes, are flung alongside us. The warriors, I counted twelve, position in a half circle on our rear. I snatch a glance on the three, confused yet unhurt.
"What else? Ah, my personal favorite. 'I do not ask and I do not want to know as long as I get paid'," he recites.
Impossible.
I glare at him. Slave boy stands before us, a somewhat triumphant look on his eyes and hands over his back like a leader. A leader. I know the high-ranking officials of Thraine guerrillas. I do not know him.
"No need to worry, I will not kill you. Tonight."
"Why are you doing this? We delivered Sanim of Lur to you," Denai complains. Someone steps up and whispers on the boy's ear.
"Why, you ask?" he answers, being translated. "Your kind betrayed us. Your kind patronized the colonizers, your kind helped them take over our lands, enslave our people."
He turns to me and with it his judgement.
"You tipped the Aeonnites about the hidden pass to Lur. You were hired to kill my cousin but instead, you gave him to slave traders who put him on mines for labor."
Cousin? Sanim is his cousin?
"I have the utmost right to treat you as enemies," he spats.
"He did not put me in the mines. Slavers did." A voice speaks up. From the warriors, Sanim walks to his cousin and defends us.
"He let me go but the slavers caught me. I already told you that."
"You are spoiling the fun."
Fun. Lila and I meet eyes.
"Stop this, Katchil Sylfain."
Katchil. Young Prince. My head jerks up and I gape at the boy who deceived us just to mess with us. From the proud arch of his back, to the commanding way he speaks, to the clothes, the headdress. I should have known.
"Looks like you know who I am now."
In name, yes. He is Young Prince Sylfain of Rairuti. Son of the Datu, the king of Thraine, Saramin of Rairuti. The prince who was withdrawn from his throne because of betrayal.
Lila gasps for the both of us.
***
"You must pardon the way I treated you before. It was a precaution."
Right.
Stuffing our faces with food, Lila, Tato and the others occupy a long table. Sundry feast, from fried dried fish to fried chicken, beef broth, simmered shrimps, chicken soup and others. Fixings from Aeonnite ingredients but no doubt the taste is Thraine with the fondness of the spicy. In addition to that are fruits, lots and lots of them.
Presently, Katchil Sylfain talks. "I am not a traitor as you may have heard."
I on the other hand, do not really care.
After the show he put us with, we are escorted to a well-lighted kitchen. Hearth, kitchen utensils and the sink cramped upon one side and two long tables on the other. There are four arc windows on adjacent walls, all closed, giving us a cooped vibe.
His men, the hooded men, took off their cloaks revealing cuirasses of chain armor plated in carabao horn and chain links salvaged from old Aeonnite armor. They position to guard us, as it seemed.
We are informed that we were unconscious for three days. Days the young prince used to transport us silently from Asuelus across to Ilysus. As for why the prince is yet to reveal that.
"My father is brave, benighted but brave."
Sanim brings another bowl of roasted chicken and fish, other warriors keep refilling the rice and we keep devouring it.
"He could not get past the fact that I allowed Aeonnites to occupy the two cities from which I am governing."
"Tough blow," I mutter between mouthfuls.
"Indeed. He could not understand the idea I presented."
"Which is?" asks Denai, after the speech was translated.
"When it comes to knowing your enemies, you do not bite, you heel."
A quiet wrap us as we absorb the cunning of that idea. "And by heeling, you mean?" Lila asks.
"Give them what they wanted. Land, cities, wealth, the spices, probably even slaves."
"What did you get in return?" Inquires Denai. Katchil Sylfain smiles very simply.
"That, my Faye'in friend, is a marvelous question."
I look up from my plate to see Farid, that sneaky Farid, coming towards us carrying a leather bundle. The prince unwraps it, revealing to us leaf-shaped swords, daggers, almost a fifty of them furbished and honed to perfection. Fine steel, uneasily corroded and almost impossible to break. The very glimmer of an Aeonnite blade.
Suddenly, with an awe I dare not admit, I have a new outlook on this young prince.
"All these years, you were not bowing to an Aeonnite rule, you were smuggling weapons. Hiding them, waiting and waiting..."
"As expected of the Anagolay," he commends with his brown eyes bright and smiling.
"Why reveal yourself now?"
"I reckon it is the right time." Sylfain nods his head to Lila. "Partly, because of that big fish."
She stops chewing.
"We, Thraine, we have lived on our principles and we seldom rely on prophecies that may or may not be true but when we heard about you, tendrils of hope reached for every man.
"Not because you are a destined somebody, no. Because you are a living proof that no matter how utterly crushed one can be, life will find a way."
Lila looks down far from being uplifted as Juba glance at me. Juba and I are the only ones that know, Lila is far from a Vanuyan.
I clear my throat. If he was, for years, stealing weapons from Aeon then could it be…
"Plaza Bessilus was your doing?"
"Waay." He utters proudly. "Some men of my father helped unknowingly and I had yours, but the surprise were ours..."
The explosions, the riot. Considering we are idling like sitting ducks in an Aeonnite city and alive. He has many fingers in many pies. Minna.
"Was it worth it? Your people and your city for these weapons?" It is too late for me to warn Denai.
Sylfain's man suddenly draws his scimitar. "How dare you–"
"Sacrifices were needed to be made." The Prince defends with roughness. "It is not to the present I am only concerned but also the future of my people. If I did side with my father, Thraine will cease to be. Who, then, will revenge graver injuries when the destruction leaves the masses no room for reprisals?"
He sighs. "The late Gael, Faye'in king had similar plans. Only he did not last to fulfil it. Like me he was just thinking of the greater good."
The greater good. Live today and fight tomorrow? There is silence on the table save the chewing and munching. Everyone busy with their own nagging thoughts, even Lila.
Tato, signs to Denai breaking the silence.
"My brother asks, why you are telling us all that?"
"Well, it should be plain by now," Sylfain replies, losing the roughness he had. "I am recruiting you."
Juba and the four of us glance at each other.
"You are the most interesting group of people I have ever come across." Katchil Sylfain explains. "Three people from different tribes, two Faye'in and Thraine in one table sharing a meal. Who would have thought it possible?"
Certainly, I would have scoffed.
"All that is missing is an Aeonnite."
At the mention, Tato chokes, Lila sputters broth from her nose and mouth, Juba and Denai stills instantaneously. Sanim is stupefied.
I see the sharp query in the prince's eyes.
"You… know one?"
I shrug casually as the chorus of "No's" circulate. Ugh. They cannot hold one damn good lie.
Sylfain tilts his head as if in question but he just stares us down. "Anyway, the offer stands."
"What if we do not accept it, what choice do we have?"
"None at all."
"Then we are your prisoners?" Juba asks.
"No. No prisoners here. You are free to go." Sylfain admits. "However, seeing that you have known some of my plans I cannot allow you to continue living and if by some miracle you get out of here alive you will be hunted down not just by me, but Aeon."
"I will give you an hour to decide." Young prince finishes, turning on his seat to move.
"Last question," I say. "What are we doing in Ilysus?"
"Should you choose to accept, you will know."
Two minutes to the allotted hour and we have not reached a decision. Maybe the bloated feeling is not helping. All I want to do now is sleep or drink my wine.
"So," Denai clears his throat. "The enemy of my enemy…?"
"Does not spell friend." Juba says. I listen halfheartedly.
"Royu," Denai calls under his breath. "We could use your opinion."
"Why are you asking me, you and Tato have wanted to be altruistic, this is your chance."
Lila shoves my shoulder. "We are a group, we make decisions as a group."
"Well the one who gathered us together is not here, is he?" I snort. The other four came to a pause, Lila especially.
"What would he say?"
/Yes, what indeed./
I become the receiving end of Lila's glare again though I am not the only one who looks to her for an answer.
"Well not everything go as planned but we managed to keep Sanim safe and… and I think whatever choice we make he would understand for he values each and every life here today." Lila finally says. Juba gives her a nod of approval.
"How about you, Tato, Denai?"
The brothers look at each other then Denai replies, "We are with you."
"Juba?" She asks. He only nods once.
"Time is up." Katchil Sylfain says, halting on the door with two men in tow. One is Farid, the other is a chilly-mannered stranger.
With a sigh, I scour the faces of my so-called group and groan inside. This is stupid. I am definitely going to regret this.
Lila whispers to my ear, "Don't be so dramatic."
I glare at her. "We concede."
"Perfect." He applauds. "Aksh."
The one he called Aksh, brought us our gear back, fresh clothing, cuirasses and dark hooded cloak they all wear.
"Come along."
Katchil Sylfain leads us to winding corridors with numerous rooms. The dwelling or wherever we are, is probably capable of housing a hundred men. Passing a colonnade, we reach a door separate from all others.
Sanim is already inside when we enter, trying out a peculiar shaped dagger. He greets us all with a toothy grin.
"The weapons' room," the Prince says.
Wall to wall, cover to cover are weapons; spears, arrows and bows Aeonnite and Thraine made. On the center is a huge mahogany table teeming with bolos and scimitars, underneath it is a stack of sacks. Since we entered, I become aware of distant hissing and clanking as metal hits metal and find that there is another door that must lead to where they make their weapons.
"Since you are already working well together, you shall be an independent group who will only take direct orders from me. And I shall call you Fetue."
That is lame.
"Big… fish?" Denai asks.
"The legendary Big Fish." The prince says. "On account of the Vanuyan and the Anagolay."
"The Vanuyan has a name." Lila chides, somehow irritated. Heads swerve in her direction. Aksh and Farid clearly offended both unsheathe their swords. Tato and Juba do the same. Realizing her mistake, her eyes went wide, stammering an apology.
Prince Sylfain dismisses it with an amused smirk.
"Lila, is it?"
"Yes, your highness."
"Katchil is fine," he says. "You say whatever crosses your mind despite your gender. You are a fighter as well, I like that."
He orders them to calm down.
/Careful, now./ Lila sighs in relief, eyeing me.
"And these my new found friends–" the prince stoops to the stack I have been wondering about and taps a hand on it. "–is what we intercepted from one of Aeon's trading ship years ago."
We circle around him as he produces a handful of powder, black powder as fine as sand.
"You foolishly ignited it on Sebelicia," he says to me. "This is what caused those explosions."
Katchil Sylfain present it to us, one by one.
"Black powder."
There was no way I could have known they were carrying a weapon like that then. Aeonnites must have certainly wanted my land.
Lila as always cannot keep her emotions to herself. Opposite me, she pales and tries to hide her growing unease by clenching her jaw and fidgeting like one who wants to pee. She knows more about the powder than the Prince. But of course, the prince noticed.
"You recognize it."
"Uh, yes, from Sebelicia." She says, her voice higher than usual.
Juba, luckily curious asks, "How do you use it?"
"A simple spark will do the trick."
They went to another table leaving Lila and me away. The prince takes a pinch out of his handful of black powder, transfers it on a spoon. Using a flint and steel, he ignites it. Hissing, a flame bursts up like a living thing and was gone after a second, it startle my friends.
"What sorcery?" Juba exclaims.
"Alas, no sorcery. Only science and technology, as what they call it."
As they marvel at the powder, I say to Lila: "You liar. What do you know about it?"
Lila says in a quick undertone, "It will be the end of warfare as you know it."
I glance at her staring at the powder intently with foreboding expectancy as someone who have lived to see the eventual outcome.
Against my rational mind, I do not doubt her.
"We have been aware for years that these are not the only menacing weapons the King of Aeon possesses. A kind of steel that breathes fire and kills instantly have been sighted. Not introduced to his military yet, only on his select black guards."
"What are you proposing we do?" Denai inquires this time.
"You know Aeon's supply routes, trading routes," Prince looks to me.
"Some, yes."
"You have the answer to your question."
I frown. What is he saying? Even as I am forming the question, the answer is at the back of my mind.
"Give me a map."
Urgently as though the thought would fly off, I unroll the map Farid gives me on the table before everyone. Ilysus is four maybe five days on foot from Bessilus. Like the previous city, it rests close to the river. So are the two cities next to it down river.
The last city is the coastal city, Rabbaz. It is also Aeon's center of trade. From there, supplies of food and clothing, silver, gold, spices and others are transported from city to city. Ilysus is the last stop before the caravan of supplies arrive at the capital.
"Are you–" I rephrase my words. "You want us to cut the inflow of supplies to Bessilus, vice versa?"
"Not something of that scale, no. Only those that carry the weapons," he replies. "And money."
He traces the path of the river.
"They use barges to deliver perishables and all of which they want to arrive fast however they cannot use it upriver so they land here–" pointing to Lycia, he says.
"Then they use wagons to reach this city and then to Bessilus. My friends, if Asuelus city is compromised, Bessilus will have to rely on the supply routes coming from Rabbaz rather than waiting for supplies that also come from Sebelicia."
"And because of Aeon's rally against your King in Gakaloai, he supplies his militias through the route here," Juba adds. "Like you said, they have to skip the city of Asuelus, while the road to another city is too great. It might be that the supplies will never reach at all."
The other nod. "It would be a crime not to use that to our advantage."
I let out a shuddering breath, exhilaration coursing through my veins. This prince, this Katchil Sylfain, he is a force to be reckoned with.
"I presented to you what I know. What comes next is uncharted waters." Katchil Sylfain looks us over one by one.
"So, my Big Fish," he states. "What say you?"