Kitabı oku: «Elinor. The Deserted Valley. Book 1», sayfa 2

My father didn’t make an appearance in Kay-Samiluf. At first, this upset mother greatly, and then she became angry with him. Day and night, all she did was berate him. I was sad too, but I didn’t reproach my father. I was melancholic, lonely without him, but I knew that if he hadn’t returned in so long, it meant he was on the path of a very important discovery. I was eager to graduate from school and join my father as quickly as possible; I could not wait to join the Old Pages Clan myself.

I have an older brother, Khasim Umar Amatt. His full patrimonial name includes the first name of father; mine is from mother… Perhaps this is a mistake – whilst I’m exactly like father in everything, Khasim is a copy of our mother. Home means the world to him!

Khasim is a sand dragon hunter. A fine hunter! Though he is young, he already has a high rank. Khasim is a noble man and a mighty warrior. He has a harsh temper, same as mother’s, but I know that he loves me. Now I know.

Hunting dragons is an ancient and honorable craft. It emerged in the time of the first Djunits, and it was the Marawie Sand Lion himself who proclaimed dragon hunting as part of the military doctrine. In ancient times, it was difficult to even call it hunting; rather, it was a struggle for survival. Having arrived in the desert, the settlers faced a great misfortune in the form of these vile, treacherous creatures. And even Marawie fell in battle against the sand dragons. But his people stood firm. Scorpio-anglers and dragons have not attacked the city for a long time. And, thanks to such hunters as Khasim, these creatures are less and less likely to attack commercial caravans. On large paths, at least, they haven’t been seen in a long time.

I turned eighteen the day after I graduated from high school. On my birthday, I was waiting for a message from my father… not such a gift as a trip to Bandabaze, of course, but at least some note. I entered the age of maturity and now I could go anywhere by myself, on any trip. But I wanted to see my father.

The year passed by and there was no news from him.

My birthday was coming to an end, and I was sitting alone in my room, crying. I was more alone than ever. My mum and brother… I felt their love, but I couldn’t trust them as I trusted my father.

Khasim entered the room. He asked why I was crying. I stayed quiet. After all, it was so obvious! He was silent for a long time. Then asked one more question, “What can I do for you? I don’t want you to cry…”

“What can you do for me, brother… " I replied with a sigh.

He stood above me, very still for a long time, which irritated me. I wanted to snap at him, scream. I’m glad I restrained myself. Now I can imagine what inner conflict he was going through!

“Get ready!” he finally told me. It was an order. “We are leaving at dawn!”

“Where to?” I was a little taken aback.

“I’ll show you how they hunt sand dragons…”

Oh, Khasim! How could I ever have expected such a thing from him? I jumped off my bed, rushed to him, and hugged him tightly. Throughout my eighteen years, I had never been close to my brother. And he, as it turns out, had always understood me. For some reason, he hadn’t shown it. Is it that stiffness is a sign of noble families?

It turned out that Khasim wasn’t a total copy of our mother after all. Father’s adventurism flowed in his veins, even though it manifested in a very peculiar way.

“And not a word to mother!” Khasim added. But it was needless, I understood everything perfectly myself.

When, in childhood, my brother made comments like, “Do not go there!”, “Stop fidgeting!”, “Be modest!”, “Speak quietly!” I was very annoyed. I did the exact opposite just to spite him. But that day, I listened to every single word of his.

He left me on the furthest barchan. Two tall warriors were assigned by him to protect me. What if a lonely dragon flew in our direction?

My brother divided his troop into three groups: left flank, center, and right flank. Naturally, he himself stood in the center. Behind him stood archers and spear throwers. These were the tactics of fighting monsters used for centuries, I knew that from history lessons.

Khasim led the soldiers to a sandy hill, where he expected a dragon’s lair. The soldiers carefully moved their feet along the sandy surface, almost gliding.

At any time, the flock could break out from under the ground, and then the solid surface would turn into a deadly funnel. That was how Marawie sunk into oblivion, having fallen through the quicksand into the dragon’s cave, and that is how hundreds of thousands of soldiers ended their lives…

A long spear whistled through the air and buried itself in the hillside. The sand began to fall off the slopes at once and soon a hole of the size of a human formed in the hill. Khasim was not mistaken – it was a lair!

Literally in the same moment, a scary head appeared out of the black hole, and then an ugly dragon’s body. A small spear dart, thrown by a warrior from the rear rows, pierced the dragon in the mouth. The first one had been dealt with!

Khasim suddenly gave the command to retreat, pointing his hand back. Again, the experienced commander predicted the situation. The hill quickly began to sink into the depths of the desert, the sand began to pour into the empty space, and new dragons came out from the smaller sandy mounds.

The first to close the formation were the warriors of the left flank. They shielded themselves, pointing forward long spears, and pressing the monsters back.

I could already count forty dragons in the pack.

First, they looked puzzled, but then, all of a sudden, in a wave, they rushed toward the soldiers. All three groups were attacked. The warriors covered their heads with shields and sat on one knee.

I knew that my brother was waiting, luring the dragons into a trap, trying to convince them of their own victory. But I stood still, on top of the barchan, dumb with fear. It was only in that moment that I understood what a great danger my brother had been exposing himself to all these years. For a night, a brother with whom I had never been able to find a Common Language, became so close and dear to me.

Two of my guards continued to stand quietly, all this time remaining unperturbed, as though watching an auction in a square, and not a deadly battle.

Suddenly, Khasim and two loyal fighters broke out of formation. With a sharp twist, they rolled under a flock of dragons hovering over the troop and rushed towards the biggest. This one was almost black in color, while the rest ranged in shades from muddy-green to the color of beige sand. The leader, I realized. One fighter clung to the tail of the dragon, the second pulled on a clawed rear paw. At that moment, Khasim jumped as high as he could, and struck the shell of the leader with the tip of his sword. After a wild yelp, it collapsed into the sand. My brother jumped to him and severed his head with one swift stroke.

It is difficult to convey into words what happened next, as wild confusion arose in the pack. The soldiers began spearing the dragons with their lances. The creatures didn’t even try to rise higher into the air, as though they had immediately agreed to the carnage. Their dead carcasses kept falling and falling. The fighters only had to dodge them.

In a few minutes the flight of dragons was killed off…

I ran from the barchan, stumbling over the motionless sand waves, my feet tangling. I wanted to hug my brother as quickly as possible.

Never again did I ask him to take me on a hunt. I longed for adventure, but that day I realized I could not stand and watch someone dear fight between life and death. I just couldn’t. Perhaps my mother still thinks that hunting for sand dragons is just a hunt, akin to hunting a deer or antelope… Let her continue to think so! She does not need to know the truth!

Since then, I’ve become different… quieter, calmer. How the life of a little girl could be changed by one sleepless night in the desert!

Khasim got married and moved to Ayno-Suf with his family. Now he teaches young fighters and rarely goes hunting himself.

In the meantime, I turned twenty-four. Mum began incessantly talking about how I should have a husband and a family. I listened to her calmly, protesting silently…

And, suddenly, a letter! From father!

My father spent several years with the Vedichs and was now returning with a “heap of discoveries”, he wrote.

Mum was angry. She already resigned herself to the fact that father was not around; considered him not as someone deceased, but gone forever. She learned to live without him. I understood that she was so angry only because she loved him… I also loved him madly, but it was a different kind of love, without demanding anything in return. I was jumping with happiness! The separation, which had lasted thirteen years, was about to end.

My father wrote from the Valley. He had to run several errands within his clan. This meant that in two months he should be in Kay-Samiluf… and if he boarded a ship through Doyno-Kash, then it would be even sooner!

A happy month of waiting had passed. I already imagined how I would join the Old Pages Clan, how I would again begin to travel with my father, being not a burden to him, but an astronomer! Again, I would see Bandabaze and Nanol-Mo. I might visit Reyro and the prairies of Chekatta. And finally, I would see the Valley with the Ancestral Stone.

On one truly dreary, rainy day, an envoy from the north arrived to Kay-Samiluf. The man was incredibly weak from the long road, but even more so he was frightened.

“The Valley is deserted!” He declared.

“What do you mean deserted? Completely?” The questions poured in.

“Completely” was the answer.

Whether it happened in an instant or in a week, no one knew. The fact is that the newly arrived caravanners found no one in the Valley. Empty houses, untouched belongings, markets full of goods, shops, and taverns – everything stood completely abandoned. The people disappeared!

In Kay-Samiluf, the council of the Academy and the izirs of free cities was held. It was decided to send numerous caravans to settle the Valley again. I told my mother that the Academy appointed me as an astronomer in a large caravan and that I couldn’t refuse. I lied,… it’s easier for a woman astronomer to join a Guawarian naval crew. In the desert, a woman astronomer, especially such a young one, isn’t welcome!

But there was no way for me not go to the Valley. I knew that if I just sat in Kay-Samiluf and waited for news from my father or about my father, I’d go mad. Besides, it’s hard for me to write about this, but a premonition arose in my chest that he would not be coming back. For thirteen years, I knew he was somewhere on the road, on his eternal search. But suddenly I felt that he was no longer… it’s hard to explain.

My intuition had never let me down before; it is why I was so anxious.

I met with Khasim and asked him to return to Kay-Samiluf with his whole family to look after our mother. He is a man, so duty called on him to help his people. Going to the Valley was both an adventure and a life gamble, and Khasim treasured his home. Adventures, as I wrote before, were somewhat different in his understanding. War with the dragons was his duty. I, on the other hand, eagerly awaited this hour. Everyone should get what one aspires to. Khasim understood me. We parted very emotionally as I promised to write him regularly; to him and mother. To mum – what was necessary to say, to him – only the truth.

I’ll keep my promise.

Mum, if you ever read my diary, then… please forgive me. I’ve always despised lies. And even more so I think that it is lowly lying to such a dear person. But telling you the truth would have made you suffer… And I didn’t want that.

Once again, the road was calling!

I didn’t join the caravan as an astronomer, but I was taken in as a teacher instead; more accurately, as a caretaker. I would accompany a group of students of the Academy’s high school to Konolwar’s school.

This was their first caravan journey – their first way through the sands. Mainly these were the children of merchants and shopkeepers. There were also the children of scientists and representatives of the academy. Their parents traveled to the Valley with the first caravans, each motivated by their own goal. All of them were surely well-off, or they had risked everything for the sake of a new life in the Valley, for not everyone could pay for a well-equipped caravan with security.

And then there was the protection of the Academy! In truth, the Academy shifted its protective duties onto my shoulders. But it was my duty. Nobody forced me to do this. That meant I was responsible for my students with my head and with my heart – Not just for their parents, first and foremost, for my own conscience!

If I had any authority at all, I would forbid children from going to the Valley. No one knew why it emptied and where its people disappeared to.

Lamis helps me, although she is from a poor family and still almost a child at the age of eighteen. She recently graduated from the high school and entered the Medical Faculty of the Academy so for her, accompanying these students is a chance to earn money for her further education.

For me, crossing the desert had long since become equivalent to a walk. True, I had not travelled with caravans in a long time, but once committed to this journey, I felt good again.

With only the longing to see my father eating at my heart, all I knew was I had twenty-two students to take care of and bring to the school of Konolwar in good health and good spirits.

I will help the children of the Academy to endure the burdens of camp life. In two months, we will be at Konolwar!

And after that I will go to Min-Mirif… to the Amatt Estate…”

3

The next morning was incredibly hot.

For a month, the caravan travelled under a sparing sun, which is quite common for spring. Now dawn rays burned mercilessly since morning, immediately announcing the approaching summer! Were it Jumanna’s will, she would lead the caravan in the morning and evening hours, breaking sleep into day and night stages. But who was she to say? Here, experienced caravanners made the decisions.

The luggage was tied onto the camels’ backs, and the students, flasks full, unanimously declared they were ready for a new transition. All that remained was taking down the tent.

Jumanna was passing the bustling merchants when the fat owner of the Khatum Tangut caravan, only last night so affected by stomach pains, hurried towards her. Tangut’s skin glistened with moisture, sweat dripping down his forehead from under the heavy turban. Despite this, the owner of the caravan seemed sure that if he shared a couple words with the young Djunitian lady before the caravan’s departure, he would make an impression on her.

Jumanna was irritated by this. When she was a little girl traveling with her father, no one hovered around her. Now they frustrated her with their cunning courtesy. What a turn of events! She asked to join the caravan as a caretaker for the Academy’s students, and usually the Academy sent decrepit old people as caretakers, but she was young and beautiful. With bronze skin, typically a little lighter than the Djunits, piercing brown eyes and dark chestnut, but not black, slightly curly hair.

She wanted to be perceived first of all as a caretaker of the Academy. However, the increased attention to her person was something different.

“How did the noble Jumanna Inaiya sleep? How does she endure the hardships of the trip?” enquired caravanner in a misleading pleasant tone.

“Thank you, Tangut, I slept beautifully. I do not feel the burdens, I’m used to them. Look! I did not even sweat!” Jumanna liked the way she spited Tangut, whose face was already hot with streams, his rich clothes dampened. “On a side note, allow me to ask as to why you are primarily interested in me, the caretaker, and not my students?”

“Hmph! The caretaker!” Tangut smirked. He turned and hobbled in the direction of his elephant, nothing more to say.

What a wonderful way to start the morning!

Jumanna was sure that a similar conversation would take place in the evening, and the next morning, and throughout all the subsequent days. It had been this way for a month, ever since the launch of the caravan from Kay-Samiluf. It was as clear as day to Jumanna that Tangut would, until the end, hope that she would say it was hard for her, that she was tired, and then offer her patronage…

Well, never in her lifetime!

The caravan consisted of camels alone, and only fat Tangut rode a desert elephant. These animals were half the size of ordinary gray elephants, but, like camels, they could go without water for two weeks at a time. The desert elephant’s skin was light beige, covered by a multitude of cracks, resembling the scales of a sand dragon.

No sooner had Jumanna come to her senses than the huge figure of Khallan, the commander of the military detachment accompanying the caravan, appeared before her.

Another one!

Khallan was simply huge, with impressive muscles easily discerned under his robe and thin mail. But something unnatural could be read in his movements. Khallan walked slowly, like a lion in a menagerie that growls only to amuse the crowd.

Jumanna knew what real warriors looked like. Inconspicuous, quiet, silent. But as soon as there was danger, their spears flew with the speed of lightning. She doubted the swords and spears of Khallan and his companions were as fast.

“Well, is it difficult?” Khallan inquired with a grin that resembled a scowl.

How tired I am of this!

“No,” she cut him off, and turned around defiantly.

“I wanted to help,” the warrior spoke to her retreating figure, evidently displeased.

“How?” Jumanna turned her head.

Khallan pondered. The young woman, meanwhile, set off once again to where her students were already taking down the tent.

“Jumanna! Jumanna! I killed a huge scorpion!” Makacash, one of the youngest boys, but incredibly lively and agile, told her joyfully. His favorite toy was the sword. Of course, one big enough only for child’s play, but rather weighty for a boy his age. As soon as he grew up, the sand dragons would face a great threat.

“Have you not tired of your great feats yet?” Jumanna patted his head gently.

“Oh, this isn’t a poisonous scorpion!” the inquisitive Astramed was already squatting beside the scorpion, cut by the sword. The scorpion, it must be noted, was really big, the length of three palms.

Astramed could be distinguished by his scientific, childishly funny, inquisitiveness. Upon encountering a plant or animal in the desert, he would immediately begin discussing it, much more rarely enquiring about it, if he did not know something. Jumanna herself had learned many new and interesting things from him.

Calif, who had employed several younger students to help him, was completing the work on the folding of the tent.

“Do you not wish to help?” Jumanna addressed Mulaf, who was lying in the shade of the barсhan, looking at the sky. He stood up reluctantly and went to Calif.

I say, some people are lazy by nature!

Half an hour later, the long string of hunchbacked animals, set off, burned by the cruel sun of the Great Desert.

Jumanna did not want to mount, and led her camel by the reins. She was caught up to by a mounted astronomer, Umal Al-Dassay. At first, he rode a little further, then easily dismounted his camel and began leading him.

“I see that you do not feel very comfortable here?” the astronomer began with an inquisitive tone.

He was an old man. An old man by years. Wrinkled, with a snow white beard and same colored hair, which peeped out from under his turbot. His purple robe with silver stars sewn onto it fluttered in the wind. It was unlikely this outfit was intended for a journey through the desert.

He’s going there too!

“I feel exceptionally well on this journey!” Jumanna looked into his eyes.

“I’m not talking about this… " the astronomer continued apologetically. “I’m sure that you will easily cross the Great Desert on your own… I’m speaking in regards to the increased attention you are receiving from the men accompanying the caravan… it annoys you!”

“It does annoy me!” agreed Jumanna.

“Understand, you are young and beautiful”

“I’ve been on many different journeys since I was a child!”

“Hear me out and do not interrupt!” the astronomer chastised, raising his voice a little. “You accompany the children. And no one even cares about how they are handling the journey. Certainly, no one was interested in you when you traveled as a child. But you are a caretaker. Do you remember a time when caravans were ever accompanied by women? No, most definitely not. There exist male crafts and there exist female ones, it is not necessary to mix the two. Do agree with me? The world would look ridiculous if men begin to weave carpets, while women hunted scorpio-anglers.”

Do you think your purple robe does not look ridiculous in the sand?

“I do not want to offend you or your age… " Jumanna began cautiously. “You are cheerful and strong in spirit; you sit perfectly in the saddle. But have you seen whom the Academy usually sends as caretakers? These are elderly people who struggle with the journey. Would I not be more useful? I do not want to dragon hunt… It is truly a man’s craft… But why should a woman not be a caretaker? An astronomer?”

“An a-stro-no-mer!” the old man stretched each syllable. “Never have I in my time ever met a woman astronomer!”

“Then look at me carefully!” Jumanna could not restrain herself.

“You?”

“I’ve done more than a dozen voyages as an on-board astronomer!” the young woman appeared to be trying to justify herself.

Al-Dassay only shook his head.

“What do you want from me? For me to turn around and leave the caravan?”

“You have already chosen your path,” the old man said calmly. “You are full of enthusiasm and determination. However, you should be more attentive and understand that this is not accepted. Yes, you are more useful in the journey than the decrepit old men of the Academy, but this cannot be explained to the other members of the caravan who see a woman caretaker for the first time! Since you agreed to this journey, be ready for such unhealthy attention!”

With the same ease, Al-Dassay jumped onto his camel and nudged it on towards the front of the caravan.

The mood for the day was completely ruined, making the walk difficult as the sun scorched them mercilessly.

For some reason, the sun felt gentle in any city, as if it were soothing, sending kindness with its every ray. In the desert, it simply scorched everything in its path, filling its beams with all the anger and malice it had accumulated against people. Now, it punished them.

What did the inhabitants of the deserts do wrong?

In the south of the Djunitian land, there is even a small port – the Bay of the Evil Sun. It was necessary to build a port near Darif, a mining town with fine iron ore, and the shore was completely unsuitable for this. It was decided to lay the settlement on the only somewhat suitable location, a small streamlet near a small cove. During the construction of the port, heat and dehydration killed more than a thousand people. That was how the port got its name. Although the port was a necessity for traders, she wondered, had the merchants ever dwelled on the price paid to create this harbor?

The sand was ready to melt beneath the hooves of the camels. Tangut’s elephant trailed at the back of the caravan and its owner was barely breathing, yet remained in the saddle. Jumanna knew if the caravan arrived a few days late, money would be lost, and Tangut would rather die on the road than lose his profit.

He is not at all fit for camp life, but dares to offer me help! If someone here cannot cope with the hardships of this journey, it is him. I hope he is lonely!

The fleeting thought of Tangut once again being affected by a series of stomach problems, or something else, amused her. Jumanna had never harbored any malice, but desired justice for his treatment of her.

On the way, we saw the skeleton of a huge lizard, probably the size of a camel. Giant lizards were not predators, but they were incredibly dangerous. If frightened, they could knock you down from an elephant or camel and trample you to death. The smaller lizards scurried along the sand in the morning, then in the afternoon, life in the desert simply disappeared. They were only djunas that went to the horizon, and the same blue sky and white sun.

Jumanna rode on, still unable to find a place for her ire. Only by the end of the day did all her anger go away, leaving the desire for a cool drink to quench her thirst in its place.

As the white sun became yellow, and then bright red, and swiftly rolled over the horizon, the whole caravan rejoiced.

The caretaker, together with Lamis, Calif, and tireless Makacash, unloaded the mattresses from the camels and set up the tent. The rest of the students were so exhausted they fell to the ground as if they had been knocked down. While they were putting up the tent, Jumanna felt the gaze of Khallans’ warriors, but pride prevented her from asking them for help.

They ate supper and went to bed. Some did not have the strength for dinner.

Jumanna thought that sleep would instantly come to her because the day had been incredibly tiring. But she could not fall asleep. Overcome with anger and annoyance, thoughts kept creeping into her head. She even thought that she should not have asked to join this trip, that it had not been worth lying to her mother. Then she remembered that if her brother had approved of her decision, she was right to go. She imagined how Khasims’ powerful blow to the jaw would overturn Khallan; how he would come to her to apologize for the indecent behavior on the journey.

And then suddenly her heart seized with fear, filling Jumanna with a familiar emotion. She not only acutely felt magic, but could predict the terrible events of the future. The last time she felt uneasy at night, the next morning a messenger arrived in Kay – Samiluf, announcing the Valley was empty.

What will happen tomorrow?

Jumanna left the tent and looked upward at Jumann Khayat (Pearl Deposit), a star cluster after which she had been named. With her fingers, she felt the chain on her neck that carried her talismans – a big pearl bought by her father at the market of Bandabaze on her memorable birthday, and a golden key that unlocked secret locks in the Amatt Estate.

In the Common Language, Jumanna meant “pearl” and Inaiya meant “golden.”

The big pearl and the golden key were all that remained of her father.

“Help me, oh stars,” whispered Jumanna, looking at the night sky, “Take the troubles away from me. Help me, Father.”