2.7.- The Night of Ill Omens
Malaban, Nragar, Daval and Bardianen continued their journey towards the Ko-Or-Natu bridge and the Naras waterfalls. The journey had been peaceful thanks to the serious duenxy Grendoar who had accompanied them and knew all the ways and paths between the tunnels of the Ranfredos forest and, later, outside of them, towards the great bridge. Once they left they could see the Great River that descended towards the South, majestic and full of water, as befitted the end of spring. On the other side of the current, to the west, lay the North Wind Steppe and its extreme and unpleasant temperatures.
But on this side, to the East, the climate was pleasant and the vegetation abundant up to the foothills of the Broken Peaks Mountain Range that was even further to the East. As they walked quietly, they saw small towns pass by that served them as a place of rest and shelter and where they found enough food to be able to continue their journey. They saw merchants, vagabonds, travelers, and even some individuals with grim eyes and few words. But among all this, they were able to learn some news: especially worrying was the disappearance of the former Chief of Intelligence, Mirondar, who had had the complete trust of the late Emperor Toringen III.
However, their group was so diverse and the people who composed it so unconventional that little did even the most dangerous ones do except look at them. Grendoar, not given to jokes, smiled amusedly every time that happened.
Malaban, in particular, was taking careful note of everything he saw and trying to go as unnoticed as possible. But everyone in the group were aware of a slow but inexorable change since his intervention at the duenxy tree in the Ranfredos Forest: a special light had lit up in his eyes and fear rarely appeared in them and did so less each day. They had all agreed that something was brewing in him that confirmed what the Great Dragon Elandiar had told Nragar long before Malaban was even close to his cave, in the Southern part of the Snowy Peaks Mountain Range.
They finally arrived at a relatively large town that was very close, a scant three leagues1 from Bonardia and a little less from the Ko-Or-Natu bridge. The strange group chose an inn on the outskirts of the village to rest that night and, after inspecting the rooms the innkeeper offered them, they paid him 2 copper doubloons and another for dinner and sat down in silence to eat.
Each one asked for a diet appropriate to his nature: Nragar complained about having to eat meat with a knife, when he liked it bitten and with his hands and also about not having it raw, only roasted. But he was already used to it and, in the end, he laughed with Daval who had asked for a flat of hay with alfalfa and had been told that it was only served in the stables. They already knew the answers, but, even so, they kept asking the same questions to laugh afterwards.
A little later a group of travelers entered. Bardianen noticed that Malaban had closed his eyes and was concentrating on something and he imitated him.
– Good people, what do you want for dinner? – said the innkeeper.
– What do you have? – said the one who seemed to be the leader of that new group.
– Well, since the night is a little cold, we have a delicious Bonardian bean stew or, if you prefer more exotic food, the cook has also prepared a delicious stew with spices that has delighted everyone who has eaten it.
Each one ordered what they most wanted and, in addition, the innkeeper served them a delicious wine from the lands of the South, after paying for everything they had ordered and the rooms.
– How has been your visit to the city?
– Good, said the leader, although he did not seem to say it with much conviction.
The innkeeper did not ask but Malaban understood that something very serious had happened to them. He stood up and made a sign to Nragar, who stood up carefully and followed him outside.
– Something very serious has happened to them – said Malaban when Nragar joined them. They are scared to death: so much so that they do not even have their spirit open so that I can communicate with them. We must try to make them trust us.
Nragar was looking at the Mondays:
– A very strange night, isn't it?
Malaban looked at the moons. In a few nights a strange phenomenon was going to occur: the 3 moons were all going to be in their full phase, something that did not happen very often. But, in addition, they seemed to shine much brighter than other times.
– The Night of Bad Omens – said Malaban –, that is what they call it in the South. Here it is considered a superstition but in certain places it is difficult not to believe in it. Let's go inside: I have to talk to those people.
Upon entering, however, they saw that Grendoar was juggling and joking in front of the group of travelers and they, excited by his performance, had changed their taciturn expression for a much happier one.
Malaban, however, had a bad feeling, felt that an unnatural cold was approaching and ordered them to put out the candles, be quiet and close the doors and windows. He was so persuasive that no one, neither the diners nor the innkeeper nor his family, objected to what he said and, in a short time, the inn seemed like a dead or abandoned place.
But, no sooner had they finished when they saw through a window whose shutter did not close completely well, a shadow that blocked the light of the three moons. Something cold and dark passed through the inn, stopped, smelled and leaned to listen but did not detect what it had come to look for. They could feel its discomfort at that fact, which hesitated and did not want to leave, while it made one pass after another. But, after a while and without finding what it had come to look for, it vanished.
Nragar and Daval looked worriedly at Malaban who, sitting on the table with his legs crossed and his eyes closed, tried to protect the inn as best he could from the attack of that shadow. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and confirmed that the shadow had gone. And then he turned to the travelers and said:
– Someone rather unpleasant is looking for you.
He saw the frightened looks between them and calmly sat down on a free chair next to him.
– You have seen something you shouldn't have seen. Don't be afraid. We are here to help you.
After more terrified looks, the leader spoke:
– The truth is that we know how long that thing has been chasing us, but we don't know why it does it. Two nights ago, the three of us – he pointed to two others sitting at the table, all men, one strong, another rather thin, but good-looking, and the third, the leader – were returning from a tavern a little tipsy, but not drunk, you know. Suddenly, we saw that same shadow lunge at a sedan chair in front of us. We were telling jokes and the occasional bad joke and we joked about how only the Empress could take that kind of companion.
But we had hardly finished saying this when the shadow fell upon the chair and the four big, strong bearers were struck down almost in the blink of an eye. Then the girl inside was first dragged out by force and then dragged head downwards by the shadow down the street.
Another of them, the thin one who had remained silent and with his eyes downcast, interrupted and said:
– It was a very strange shadow, like a black wind, but – he doubted – of the same nature as oil but dark: it glided through the air. It would have killed us, but it seemed to be in a hurry and ignored us completely. Afterwards, we thought that, as we were tipsy, it was a figment of our imagination. But we have felt it ever since. It was as if it was controlling us...
Malaban answered him:
– No, it is not a figment of your imagination. What you have seen has happened: that shadow is a very dangerous servant. Daval, Bardianen, Grendoar –he said looking at them– you will sleep here tonight and tomorrow morning, early as possible, you will leave the city and go to Ko-Or-Natu, where you will get them a transport. If you find it before, the better. We are going to face someone very sinister and dangerous. Will you come with me, Nragar?
The tiger-man smiled, with that ferocity that characterized him and said:
– Nothing would make me happier.
– It is fine. We need to attract us and Bonardia. I think I will know how to do it –then he turned to the travelers–. Please, wait at least two hours before leaving or lighting any candles. That way we make sure that no one in this being's company can see you.
Malaban and Nragar slipped out the back door, muffled, and silently made their way through the stables. The streets were deserted, save for the occasional cat returning from its evening walk or the occasional person arriving home too late.
In the distance, a dog whimpered in pain. Nragar heard it and motioned quickly at the same pace as Malaban: they turned the next corner and continued down the street, nearly running. They had to save this wretched creature that had been "disappeared".
Desa Akrovia had been named Grand Abbess of the Order of the Most Faithful Prayer-Wise of the Third Sword more than eight years ago. Always discreet and efficient, she had had a cordial relationship with the late Emperor Toringen III and had accepted that her relationship with Empress Abalina was never going to be that way.
While doing her exercises and her prayers at the beginning of the night, she felt again that her Order had little time left to live. For that reason, and because of the disappearance of the Chief of Intelligence, she had called a conclave of Grand Masters that same night in secret. It was already the third confirmed disappearance since the death of the Emperor: the crown prince Everingen, the fleet of Haloren, with its General Baron of Nirándonir and, now, the Chief of Intelligence.
She had known Mirondar since before they had both accessed positions of responsibility. He was calm, imperturbable and loyal. “The new one,” she thought, “gave the sensation of being a kind of eel: cold, with that shark skin and eyes empty of life, his whole appearance had seemed… disturbing.” But all that was nothing compared to the voice: it was peculiar, enveloping and… unpleasant, she thought with a grimace of displeasure. As if someone had added a little silk to a crow's cry to wrap it up, but beneath it all the discomfort of the first one was still felt. Some of the maids had been brought to tears by his voice, and another had fainted.
She finished her exercise routine, poured a bucket of cold water over herself, and wiped his skin thoroughly. She put on a short white tunic, Jose, and a chainmail shirt, and over that a longer, brown tunic. She put on her boots, took her light cloak from the rack where she kept it folded, inserted two short daggers into her belt, and then left her cell and calmly headed toward the lower floors of the monastery.
From there, it was easy to reach the hall, which had been secretly built several hundred years ago and was hidden from everyone except the people who were now to take part in the meeting. Among them were the elderly Grand Master Abbot Karonidas of the Order of the Defenders of the Mercy of the One, who not only fought wars but also maintained a large health care infrastructure in various parts of the Empire; the tall, thin, bald and honey-voiced Grand Master Abbot Stranodon, of the Order of the Poor Friars of the Lance of Our Lord, on whom dependes, among others, the Monasteries of Os and the southern one of Nirania; and finally, Abbot Leovildo, Grand Abbot of the Order of the Hope of the Heavenly Mother, the youngest of all and the most recent to his appointment, on whom depend some Monasteries that are not military, as is the case with the Monastery of Sinningen, and others that are, such as the one they have in Bonardia and where Frey Rilaus now resided. In addition, there was also Desa Akrovia and the secretary, Brother Hermeguildo of the non-military Order of the Mendicants of the Divine Witness, who also represented other minor Military Orders and the non-military ones.
Abbot Karónidas began to speak, once everyone had sat around the table in the centre of the room:
– Good evening, we are gathered here because this is a very delicate moment. I thank the Grand Abbess Desa Akrovia for her good sense in calling us to this meeting. Every day there is more surprising news (and not exactly for the better). The latest, as I think you all know, is the disappearance of the Chief of Intelligence and his replacement by an individual of whom we know nothing and who personally struck me as a jerk. But there is more, isn't there, Abbot Stranodon?
The man in question raised his eyebrows and began to speak in that honeyed voice:
– As His Reverence Abbot Karónidas has said, the Nirania Monastery remains incommunicado. The owls we have sent have not returned for months. We know that the imperial messengers, who carry messages that I am not informed about, do not return either, which is made worse because the Empress is watching us and has forbidden us to send investigators. Doing so would put us in open rebellion against the Empress. Every day that passes we are more worried.
Then, Leovildo spoke:
– We have a similar problem with Sinningen. A few days ago we received a friar here in Bonardia who came with Chamberlain Astano from there. Well, he told us that the Abbot has died and that certain friars and other personnel of the Monastery have “disappeared.” Literally, he made the gesture of the quotation marks - he also did it - when he told us why he had not been able to stay there. The worrying thing is that one of the “missing” ones – he made the quotation mark again – is Frey Kaistos, who I know for a fact would never have left his laboratory.
They fell silent, while everyone thought. Desa Akrovia then said:
– You still don’t know other things: I sent Níramal out of the convent months ago and I don’t know where she is at this moment… Whether or not she is the one referred to in the prophecy that all these people cite – and she made a face of disgust – I prefer that she is safe.
Abbot Stranodon applauded and Leovildo said:
– Well done.
– And the second thing –he continued- is that now there are no longer only disappearances, today a shadow has kidnapped a girl in the Elbow Passage2. We have investigated: the girl belongs to the same family as Níramal and physically, they would be very similar. Today they only differ in the training that Níramal has had to maintain while she was with us.
Abbot Karónidas looked at her:
– What are you up to?
– I have a slight idea of where she is. I am going to go get her tonight, although I do not know if it will be too late for her, but I do not want to leave her there. I think we will also find Mirondar in the same place. But we still have not located his Imperial Highness Prince Everingen.
Malaban and Nragar had just entered Bonardia. The light of the three moons illuminated the street with an intensity that made the shadows strange.
– Do we know where they are keeping her? – Nragar asked in a whisper.
– I have a slight idea.
They continued walking through the shadows. It was already very late at night, so there were no animals on the street, except for the occasional owl flying across the street. In that part of the city there were not even inns or taverns, because they were considered places of little elegance and elevation to be so close to the Imperial Court.
They turned down a street and entered a small passage where there was a sign made in relief on the wall:
THE ELBOW PASSAGE.
It was so small that it was no more than an elbow wide3. Malaban smiled: he could detect the signs of the disgusting being who had been appointed Chief of Intelligence. Calmly, he murmured a few words and they found themselves in a side street in front of a door, which he opened without difficulty and they entered. Nragar, as soon as he smelled that place, felt deeply uncomfortable and unsheathed the double-edged sword that he carried on his back.
They followed the corridor and went down some stairs: one door on the left was open, the rest were closed, something Malaban had not anticipated. But Nragar made a sign to him: some faint moans could be heard, so they crossed the threshold and continued down the corridor. The door was not difficult for Malaban to open and there they found a chilling scene.
At the back of the room, the new Chief of Intelligence was leaning over a young woman, unconscious and pale, whom he had tied to a column with strong chains, her dress untied at one shoulder. Hearing them enter, he looked at them: his mouth was full of blood and said, smiling:
– You are late, I have already killed the future empress. It has been quite an experience: seeing her from my balcony, so innocent in that sedan chair… I could not resist. My lord – he said, bowing – will be pleased.
Nragar, meanwhile, had eliminated the servants who had tried to fight them. The Chief of Intelligence was left alone, but that did not make him any less lethal. Malaban looked at him, while Nragar approached the girl and freed her from the chains:
– No, Strugar4, that is not the future empress. In fact, no one knows if she exists. If I were you, I would not be so proud as long as you do not tell your lord.
At that moment they heard footsteps behind them and Desa Akrovia, the Grand Abbess of the Orantes and Abbot Leovildo burst into the Hall, carrying Mirondar, the former chief of intelligence whom they had found in a cell in the underground dungeons of that house.
Malaban looked at Strugar and said:
– We are leaving.
He smiled and said:
– You will NOT get rid of me so easily.
And he transformed into that oily shadow that the travelers at the inn had described and immediately went out into the street, but he saw nothing. That could not be. He flew through the surrounding streets, sniffed around and went up higher to see if he could see them around.
He had to return to his headquarters, empty-handed and he feared the moment of explaining what had happened to the Lord of the Necromancers… because that was really the Lord he depended on. But there was no room to delay the inevitable. He went down the stairs and arrived at that chamber in which he had had the mirror sent by his lord installed.
He immediately saw the powerful shadow and those two bright red eyes that stared at him fixedly and maliciously, while he knelt down:
– Sir, she was not the future empress.
The shadow's eyes reddened a little more, his anger evident.
- "You are making many mistakes."
He leaned in even closer.
- "There won't be any more."
- "I hope so. For your own make."
Strugart felt a force wrap around his neck, taking his breath away as he heard the voice in his head said:
- "Don't forget that."
He found himself lying on the ground, breathing heavily. He looked at his hands: they were shaking. The message had been too clear not to understand.
Outside, one of the moons peeked out over a tree. Strugar smiled: there were still three days until the Night of Ill Omens.
Foto de Aron Visuals en Unsplash
1 Castilian league = 4,190 meters. Therefore, three leagues would be a little more than 12 km.
In Madrid there is a place called Calle del Codo (Elbow Street). Here is its history.
This is a measurement that was widely used in the past. In this case, we are going to refer to the Castilian elbow: “In Castile, the common elbow was used, of half a yard (1.5 feet or 24 fingers), which was equivalent to 0.418 m and also the royal or riverside elbow, of 33 fingers (1 finger = 1/16 foot), or 0.574 m. It is likely that El Escorial was designed in royal elbows of 31 Castilian fingers, that is, 0.5398 m".
Strugar takes the modified name of the so-called vampire Count Estruch, also called Estruga. A famous Spanish medieval horror legend, for some, the lack of real evidence makes it more of a literary myth, which takes certain ideas from the legend of another supposedly vampiric count: Count Arnau. Both were royal knights belonging to the Crown of Aragon. The first one even fought in Las Navas de Tolosa.