The Pillars of the dead

 

It was two days after our brush with the Tersedi in Catraise when Lepidua and I encountered the pillars of the dead. Not for the first time that week there was an early morning mist which reduced visibility to a little more than fifty paces, which wasn’t good when  running the risk of coming face to face with one of Tahirs patrols.

As was our custom Lepidua was leading the way, with me trailing her twenty paces behind. Every now and then she would raise her left hand, which was the signal to stop, and I would watch fascinated as she tilted her head from side to side whilst listening for the most imperceptible of sounds. Once she was satisfied there were none she would make a circular motion with her right hand which was the signal to move on.

                During the time we’d been together I’d seen many different sides to Lepidua. There was Lepidua the slave who would not allow herself to be set free until the brother who had sold her into slavery lay dead at her feet. A week ago, I was afforded a glimpse of Lepidua the princess who stole everyone’s hearts at the Kracien’s ball. None however, compared to the Lepidua in front of me. This was Lepidua the hunter, the warrior, who moved with all the grace and fluidity of a wild gazelle, totally at one with her surroundings. This was the Lepidua that I loved.

                Unlike previous days the mist didn’t lift that morning, and we found it slow going picking our way along a path that weaved its way back and forth across a valley floor littered with boulders and trees. The terrain was changing, and we sensed rather than saw the valley sides closing in on us as it swung sharply to the West

I was just about to suggest that we take a short rest when Lepidua’s left arm shot up by her side. Coming to a stop I watched as once again she tilted her head from side to side, only this time instead of listening she appeared to be sniffing the moisture laden air. After what seemed an age she motioned for me to join her.

                “What is it?” I whispered once I was by her side.

                “Death, I smell death.”

                “Death?”

                She nodded her head. “Yes death, it is feint, but it is there.”

                “Are you sure?” I asked peering into the all-enveloping opaque mass which billowed around us, making it impossible to discern shape from shadow, or rock from tree.

                “Yes, it’s something you never forget. Stay close to me,” she said unbuckling the retaining strap which would allow her to draw her sword. Following her lead, I did the same; not that I would have been much use if the need arose, I was a blacksmith not a soldier and whilst I knew how to forge a blade I didn’t have a clue when it came to wielding one in anger.

                We set off once more, taking our time cautiously working our way up a rocky slope so as not to make any unnatural noise which may be heard by someone as yet unseen. Consequently, we hadn’t gone far before we began to discern a dark, angular shape jutting up from the valley floor in front of us.

                “What is that?” I asked only for Lepidua to hold a finger to her lips. Had she seen or heard something that I hadn’t? Out of nowhere a dog barked from high up on the far side of the valley, which did nothing for my already frayed nerves. I hadn’t learned much since I fled headlong from the city of my birth; but one thing I had learned was where there were dogs there were people and there must be an unseen settlement somewhere close by shrouded in the mist.

                Lepidua rolled her right hand, and we advanced another twenty paces which was when the first watery rays of sunshine broke through from the skies above and we found ourselves looking at not one, but two stone pillars of a similar height. Coming from Kathir I could honestly say I’d never seen anything like them, which wasn’t surprising given there’s no stone to be found on the great plain.

                “Look over there,” Lepidua said pointing to another two pillars which were looming into view, one of which was of a similar height to the first two, the third however was much taller, tapering to a point where for no apparent reason it started to widen out. I also noticed all four appeared to be a uniform distance of around thirty paces apart - then it dawned on me.

                “They’re bridge supports, look at that pillar there,” I said pointing to the one which widened out at the top. “You can see the start of an arch, and that,” I said pointing to a jumbled mass of moss-covered stonework littering the valley floor at their base, “is what remains of the superstructure which used to be on top of them.”

                Lepidua nodded her head in agreement. “I think you’re right. It must have been built by the ancients; before the war of wars.”

                “Yeah, I think it must,” I said in awe struck wonder. When I was a young and at school I was told that such structures existed. Not once did I think I’d see one.

                “There’s something on top of those two over there,” which was when the stench hit us.

                “Urgh, that’s foul.”

                “Yes, the smell of death is seldom pleasant,” Lepidua said holding her hand over her nose.

                “But where’s it coming from?”

                Lepidua gesticulated with her free hand toward the two pillars which I could now see were crowned with large timber crosses. “From up there, can’t you see them?”

                “See what,” I said focusing on the nearest cross and realising that the tattered rags attached to it had once been a living, breathing human being. I also noticed two white death notices staked to the ground at their base.

                With my hand firmly clamped across my nose and mouth I went to take a closer look and saw that on the one nearest notice to me someone had crudely inscribed the words “do no murder” in Mahirian text. On the second board the same crude hand had inscribed the word traitor. Both boards bore the mark of Tahir.

With my blood running cold, I took a step back and looked up the lichen-stained stonework to the putrefying remains above. Maybe he or she, it was impossible to discern which, was a traitor or maybe they were just someone who had dared to speak out against the tyrant’s rule. Was this what fate had in store for me I wondered, if and when Tahir finally caught up with me, it wasn’t as if I could run for ever. Not that I wanted to run, I was sick of running...

“Come on Max, there’s nothing good to see here,” Lepidua said taking me by the hand and leading me away.

“No, there isn’t,” I Sighed. “Only Tahir could turn a monument to an ancient civilisation into an instrument of terror.”

“Ha, this is nothing, believe me. You haven’t seen the killing fields of Borakacia or the island of the damned in the Serov sea.”

“No, I haven’t, nor do I want to, but I promise you this Lepidua, this has to stop, and if I am to die, it’s going to be on my own terms, not when one of Tahir’s henchmen nails me to a cross.”

“So, what do you want to do?”

“I want to fight Lepidua. Teach me to fight, teach me how to use a sword, and a knife, teach me everything you know.”

                “You do realise what you will be taking on.”

                “I’m not spending my life looking over my shoulder, or if I am it might as well be for something worthwhile.”  

                “Okay then, but from now on I own you, and when I say jump, you jump, and” she said with a flash of bedevilment “when I say kiss me, you damn well kiss me.”

                “That’s not a problem princess,” I said pulling her to me only to receive a swift slap across the face. “What was that for?” I asked feeling justifiably aggrieved.

                “Rule number one. Always wait for the command.”