The Shadowy Path - 6. Chapter 6

"After coming to power, the Negos family successfully continued the previous ruling family's campaign to eradicate all forms of religiosity from Andiol. The imperial rulers wanted to elevate themselves as the sole absolute authority and thus justify their right to the throne. The existence of gods would have interfered this autocracy, however dishonourable the idea may seem to us.

The Dimali, who make up the majority of Andiol's population, are today virtually irreligious, which is a very puzzling and exceptional development in cultural history. Spirituality in Andiol is now limited to a few superstitious rituals practised by the rural population and to seasonal festivities whose traditional meaning has been forgotten.

Even their relationship with the afterlife distinguishes the Dimalis from other peoples. For them, death is seen as a total end, in which the person who has left this world enters a place or space called the eternal sleep. There he sleeps in darkness, devoid of thought and emotion, until the end of the world. A rather comforting view, but it explains the restlessness and tendency to live in the moment that characterises the Dimali."

- The Priestly Report of Malkania, II/1586

* * *

Josel

The weather had not become any cooler, but Josel was nevertheless cold. In fact, his whole body was shivering. Although a slight burn floated up his nose, he couldn't turn around to look back. He just couldn't.

Curtus said the horses were waiting a short distance away, and regardless of his age, he started to run. Josel clung to his heels and heard Zdain's footsteps behind him. From somewhere further away, presumably from the direction of the Governor's Palace, came noises, including gunfire. Paidos was not the same familiar Paidos anymore.

Their own neighborhood was quickly left behind as Curtus led them into more secluded alleys, out of sight of the other night walkers. They turned from many corners without encountering anyone. Still, Curtus kept glancing to the side and even behind them, probably fearing a follower.

Finally, they stopped in front of a house that was no different from the others. Curtus struck a match and lit the lantern he had been carrying. When he had done so, he fumbled for the key in his pocket and turned it in the door. And so they entered a dark, dank-smelling room that had clearly not been inhabited recently. Curtus peered out of the door once more, then locked it behind him.

Although they were now locked inside, Josel did not feel safe. The uninhabited room was empty, and even after lighting the lantern, it was dim. Curtus, however, strode purposefully across the room to another locked door, which opened with a squeak if it had not been used for years. Beyond it was a corridor that smelled just as musty, and at the end of it another door. Curtus opened this too and they stumbled out into the courtyard.

Curtus spoke for the first time in a long while. He pointed to a building at the back of the courtyard and said: "There is a stable where some kind people have arranged horses for us."

Carrying the lantern, he led the way to the stable, where they were greeted by a strong smell of horse manure. Josel tried not to breathe through his nose and thought about going back outside.

The horses were neighing in their stalls. Curtus walked past the first of the stalls containing the mare and its foal. From the next one he led out a grey-spotted mare. Josel remembered that a horse of this colour is called a dapple grey.

Meanwhile, Zdain had picked up a saddle, stirrups and bridle for the horse from the stable wall. As soon as he saw Curtus' mare, he set to saddling it with a sure hand.

Josel chewed his lip and looked away as Zdain led his ready-to-ride mare out. He had only sat on a horse a few times himself. Was there really no other way to leave Paidos?

In the next stall, Curtus found an iron grey stallion that was putting its ears back and refusing to be saddled. "Take this one out and make sure it doesn't run away," the old man advised after finally getting the saddle on the stallion's back.

Josel swallowed and began to lead the large animal out of the stable. The stallion tossed its head and tried to wriggle free. Only with great difficulty did Josel manage to tie it to the fence by its halter.

Zdain watched with amusement, holding his own horse's bridle in one hand. It crossed Josel's mind to punch the governor's son, but just then Curtus reached the yard with his chestnut stallion.

Curtus measured the animals with his eyes. "Zdain, change horses with Josel. I'm sure you're a more experienced rider and can keep the bucking stallion in line better." Josel felt like sinking into the ground in shame. Didn't Curtus understand that he embarrassed him in front of Monteilon?

Zdain replied all too casually, "Of course," and walked with the mare to Josel to change horses. As he handed the reins of the mare, he dared to show a slight smile that made Josel boil with rage.

When Curtus looked away, Josel whispered to Zdain: "Wanker".

Governor's son flinched in surprise, and it was Josel's turn to smile. Strictly speaking, he had not promised Dad to be kind to Monteilon.

Soon Curtus beckoned Josel and Zdain to join him. "Well, the journey begins," he said. "Let's try to get out of the town as soon as possible, before the Shadow Cross takes over all of Paidos. We'll head for the Southern Trade Route to Ipalos. We are going to get there by a shortcut that follows the edge of the Veilwood. It would be too dangerous to take the main road, as the enemy will make every effort to catch us."

As the boys nodded, he went on: "So the destination is Ipalos. We're looking for Marta Donthav. She is a member of the Blue Moon and is prepared to receive us. Marta's house is located in the Merchants' District. We will meet Andreuz there. Your parents, Zdain, will take the most direct route to the town of Five Hills, the sanctuary of our organisation. You can join them later."

Zdain nodded, indicating that it was clear.

The chatter seemed to be enough for Curtus, for he said without waiting for an answer, "To the horses. Follow me. Josel in the middle and Zdain last, is that clear?"

He put down the extinguished lantern and hopped smoothly onto the horse. Zdain was already on his stallion when Josel clumsily twisted himself into the saddle.

Without further ado, Curtus rode to the gateway at the far end of the courtyard and Josel tried to follow with his mare. The gate was covered by a large wooden door, leading to a different street from the one they had come from. Curtus jumped from the saddle and dug once more in his pocket for the key. Once the lock was open, he lifted aside the iron bolt across the door that led into the dark gateway and out into the street.

Curtus climbed back into the saddle, all the while stamping his feet in the direction of the gateway.

A chill ran down Josel's spine. What would await them on the street? He glanced quickly at Zdain, who also looked tense.

At the same time, Curtus shouted, "Now!" and rode out of the gateway and into the street.

Josel encouraged his mare to follow, managing to keep his balance on the horse.

The street seemed deserted. Josel clenched the reins, his knuckles white and tried to keep up with Curtus. The horse wriggled beneath him, its hooves bouncing on the cobbles, and the wind blew in his ears. It did not last long.

They had barely made it to the end of the street when the darkness condensed into human shapes. Two armed men stood in the street.

"What's going on? Stop!" one of them shouted, putting his spear in the way.

Curtus ignored the command and spurred his stallion at full speed towards the man. There was a thump and a harsh curse as the man was crushed into the street by the impact. The spear clattered to the pavement and rolled away.

Josel tried to urge his mount after Curtus, but the other man dashed in from the side. The mare spooked and stopped in its tracks.

The man lunged at Josel with a triumphant expression on his face and reached for the reins. Terrified, Josel tried to get his horse moving again, but the mare whinnied and refused to move. The man grabbed the bridle with his hand, while the man Curtus had knocked down stumbled forward. The man holding the bridle pushed hard, telling Josel to give up. To no avail, Josel tugged at the reins himself.

Then Zdain was there. He deftly kicked the man, who howled in pain and released his grip.

"Go!" Zdain shouted to Josel, who got his horse moving again. The mare broke into a gallop and caught up with Curtus, who was already turning back. Zdain also managed to break away from the men and rode alongside them.

"Shadow sentries... need to get away," Curtus shouted into the wind. He spurred his mount into a fast trot ahead of Josel.

* * *

The horses ran through sleeping Paidos. The stars and moon shone brightly over the town, showing the fugitives the way. By now they were too far from the Governor's Palace to hear the sounds of battle, or the fighting had died down. A few people fell in the riders' path, but no one tried to stop them. Josel's riding was still shaky, but fortunately the mare was quick and kept up easily with Curtus' chestnut.

Gradually the streets widened into country roads and there were fewer and fewer houses. They had reached the outskirts of the town. Only fields and trees now lined the road. Josel had been to the outskirts of Paidos before, but now, at night, the landscape looked completely alien.

The heavy rucksack rubbed against his shoulders and slammed into his lower back with every bump. Josel tried to ignore it, for Curtus seemed to have no intention of slowing down. He could tell by the sound of hoofbeats that Monteilon was right behind him. Monteilon, who Josel secretly thanked for his ingenuity a moment ago.

The steady trot of the horses and the silence of the countryside dulled the senses. Just as Josel was about to fall into a limp lethargy, there was a rapidly approaching thud somewhere ahead of them.

Curtus had heard the same and slowed his chestnut stallion noticeably. "Get out of the way! Quickly into the trees!" he croaked, jumping from his horse.

Josel halted his mare as well and stumbled after the others into the roadside woods. They managed to hide themselves and the horses from the eyes of the road. At the same time, a sound came closer and closer. There must have been several riders on their way to Paidos.

"Maybe the emperor has sent soldiers to the town to help my father," Zdain said, stroking the muzzle of his restless stallion, clearly addressing his words only to Curtus.

"Let's hope so. I'll get closer, you stay here quietly," Curtus said and handed the reins of his horse to Zdain. He slunk under the cover of the bushes towards the roadside and soon disappeared into the darkness.

The thunder of the approaching horses grew louder. There must have been a lot of horses. Josel fumbled with the knife in his belt, hoping Curtus would be back by now. Zdain continued to stroke his horse with an absent gaze.

Soon, the thud of the hooves came very close. Then it started to recede in the direction of Paidos. The branches of the bushes rustled and Curtus returned.

"They were not the emperor's men, but armed shadow sentries," the old man said. "There must have been more than a hundred horsemen! They want to take the whole town. The men had enough modern rifles to do it."

Josel drew in an involuntary breath. Firearms were expensive in Andiol, and war in the eastern border had the best weaponry. The City Guard, for example, didn't even have enough good rifles for a quarter of its men. The rest had to make do with ancient muskets or even swords. That's what Dad had once told him.

Paidos would face a night of slaughter and defeat before the morning. Would someone Josel knew be killed? It made him sick to think about it.

"It’s better to move on. We'll try to get as far away from Paidos as possible during the night," Curtus said.

They led the horses back to the quiet road again. The journey continued in silence.

Pretty soon they came to a crossroads. The Southern Trade Route continued broadly towards Ipalos. At the junction, however, a narrow dirt road branched off, barely wider than a wagon.

This must have been the byway Curtus meant, for he rode determinedly up the narrow road, Josel and Zdain following behind. The road ran north-west, more to the north of the Southern Trade Route. The area was far less populated than the busy Trade Route. This little road at the edge of the forest wasn't the first place the Shadow Cross came in search of fugitives. At least they hope so.

South of the byway, the landscape was dotted with meadows. On the northern side of the road, however, the trees began to thicken. Huge trees were already growing beside the road. Behind them, the night forest was humming. They had come to the edge of Veilwood.

The vast primeval forest extended as far as Narrowlake. The western border of the forest was the eastern bank of the Frothy River. Like everyone in the southern part of the realm, Josel knew the stories of the Veilwood and the ghosts that lived in its caches. Children were frightened by the woodland creatures that kidnapped babies from nearby villages and hid them in the forest, or took terrible revenge on intruders who disturbed the peace of the forest. Even many adults were afraid of the Veilwood and few ventured deep into the forest, even during the day.

The journey continued under the cover of the Veilwood. Josel thought there were not many hours left until morning. He was tired, but not sleepy. Curtus had slowed his pace a little to spare the horses, but still their goal seemed to be to get as far away from Paidos as possible before dawn.

When the frosty light of the moon shone from the right angle, Josel glanced at Zdain, who rode beside him. The governor's son stared at the road ahead, his lips pressed into a determined line. Was this the look he and Curtus would have to watch all the way to Ipalos?

The night had been too long, too eventful. Gone were Franz and other friends. And of course Jolanda, who was left alone in the chaotic town. How long would it be before Josel saw them again? Damn it! His smooth and easy life had been shattered in a single night. All because of a snub between the bloody Shadow Cross and Dareis Monteilon!

Suddenly, Curtus' horse let out a scream that was deafening in the still night. Curtus had time to shout a warning to the boys, and at the same moment the horse collapsed beneath him, as if it had had a sudden seizure.

With amazing agility for a man of his age, Curtus managed to jump out of the way and avoid being pinned under the falling stallion. He crumpled to the ground on his knees, but got up anyway. With a quick wave of his hand, he ordered the boys to dismount and move to the edge of the forest. Josel and Zdain obeyed and hurried by the side of the road.

Curtus' horse was shaking and bucking on the ground in spasms of death. Soon, however, the animal's suffering was over and the chestnut stallion met its end.

For a while, nothing happened. Curtus' eyes were fixed on the road ahead. Then the boys saw it too.

Some distance down the road stood someone tall and dark. The outline of the figure glowed yellowish or almost greenish against the darkness, though Josel could not pinpoint the direction from which the light was coming.

Josel drew his knife from its sheath. His heart pounded in his chest. Zdain stood beside him, alert, also clutching his knife. The horses backed away in fear. They might have fled if Josel and Zdain hadn't held on to the bridles.

As the stranger approached, Josel let out a cry of terror. The figure was several heads taller than him, too tall to be human.

It glided along the road without lifting its legs. It had long, raven-black hair, thick as a horse's mane. There were two slits glowing in the night where his eyes should have been.The face was like a bony mask and the mouth was in a hideous grimace, accentuated by fangs.

The creature raised its hand, where Josel saw what must have been ten pointed fingers. A shudder of horror shook his entire body and he could not take a step. Tears streamed down his cheeks and an involuntary groan escaped his throat. The horse's bridle dripped from his slack hands. Beside him, Zdain cried out in pain and fell to one knee.

Everything happened quickly. There was a loud bang and a flash in the air. Then there was another bang, and with another flash, the monstrous creature fell to the road. Before that, a black blob flew through the air. It struck Curtus in the chest and the old man sank to the ground, screaming. In an instant, the paralyzing sensation of fear was gone.

Josel rushed to Curtus. His clothes were torn to shreds from his chest and his exposed skin was covered in blood and been burned by black substance. Curtus wailed in agony on his back.

"Curtus!" Josel shouted.

"Josel," Curtus managed to wheeze, barely audible, but at least he opened his eyes.

Josel was already tearing off his own shirt to bandage Curtus's wound, but the old man made a sharp gesture of refusal with his hand. "Don't touch, the black stuff is sticky and corrosive."

"How can I help?" Josel asked.

"Come and listen, you too, Zdain," Curtus said, beckoning them closer.

The boys knelt beside the bleeding man. Josel noticed that Zdain had picked up the pistol. With it, Curtus had shot the monstrous creature.

"It was a vra-dagraaj, or a dreader in the vernacular, the most dangerous of the servants of darkness..." Curtus' speech was interrupted by a furious cough, which caused blood to trickle from the corner of his mouth and nose.

A dreader? Josel remembered hearing the name before: at school, when the teacher had told his class about old folktales. In real life, there should be no such thing as dreaders.

Curtus was coughing, and for a moment it seemed he could not breathe. Josel looked at the wounded man in distress, not knowing what to do.

Blood dripped from Curtus' mouth and nostrils, but he recovered after a long period of gagging. "The dreader... it's destroyed now. You know this because the sense of fear is gone. They use powerful magic and are difficult to kill. Get the gun, there are still bullets in it."

"You need treatment!" Josel cried in despair. Curtus couldn't mean...

Curtus' bloody lips twisted into a smile. "Lad, there's nothing more to be done with me. Dreader's poison kills quickly," he croaked.

Josel wanted to resist, but Curtus stroked his hand gently.

"I have to go, you carry on. Now listen. From now on, stay in the cover of the forest. There may be more dreaders, they usually attack in groups. Go to Ipalos, to Marta..."

A gust of coughing spurted more blood onto the old man's chin. Still, he tried to continue. "Take the purse from my belt, you need money...You are good boys. Josel, I am proud of you. Say hello to your father. Go quickly, to the shelter of the forest..."

Curtus' speech, which had faded to a whisper, stopped altogether. A single tear rolled down his cheek. Then his eyelids closed and his head flopped backward. Curtus Jerovann was gone.

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