The horror valley
Gieve felt Isfan leaning heavily on his shoulders, and the young man's breath of breath warmed the back of his head.
"My enchanting Farangis" called the minstrel. "I'm afraid our young friend has exhausted his strength. Don't you think it would be better to stop?"
"I can do it!" Isfan reacted. He moved away from Gieve abruptly, but could not keep himself erect on back. "I can do it," he repeated between clenched teeth.
Gieve turned a sarcastic smile at Farangis, who now was looking at them, and continued to smile when he felt the gaze of the warrior priestess cross him, as if he were invisible, and probe the young man half-bended behind him.
"Hold on, Isfan," said Farangis, turning again to look forward, over the dry and rocky humps that drew the landscape all around them. "We are about to reach Kishward's men on the battlefield," she added, and her voice became low and hard.
"Did your Djinn suggest it to you?" Gieve asked lightly, vaguely teasing.
"No, it was suggested to me by those columns of smoke that you can see too, if you divert your attention from yourself and raise your eyes from your shadow" answered Farangis, with absolute detachment.
Gieve twisted the nose when he heard Isfan's suffocated chuckle. He looked up at the heavy swirls of black smoke rising toward the gray dome of the sky. At that moment the wind changed direction and began to blow towards them, bringing with it the acrid smell of burnt resin, confused by the smell of burnt flesh.
"Funeral fires" the minstrel muttered to himself.
"They are many," Isfan observed in a low voice.
"And rather large, judging by the smoke they do" added Gieve. "It would be too much to hope that they are burning only ghouls carcasses."
No one answered.
The minstrel and the priestess of Mithra continued to push the exhausted steeds forward on the path uphill, until they crossed the rocky ridge that separated them from the valley from which the smoke of the fires rose.
Gieve clenched his teeth and drew back in an instinctive motion, at the sight of the heaps of unrecognizable, dark and convoluted forms, enveloped in a smoke so thick and heavy as to prevent the fire from blazing and consuming, in a single vivid flame, the wretched remains. of those who had been living beings: men, horses and primordial creatures emerged from the shadows of chaos.
As in an vision of hell, the warriors of Peshawar moved around the fires, like shadows of demons, through the blanket of smoke, dragging bodies or throwing into the fire what was left of it. Many had a band of cloth covering their mouth and nose, to defend themselves from the obscene stench that was infecting the air.
"They're all dead," Isfan whispered in horror. "Not only the knights of General Daryun, but also Qbad's men," he added, barely recognizing the insignia of the two leaders, among the ragged rags scattered on the ground which was black with clotted and upset blood, as if he had been dug by deformed plows gone crazy.
"Five hundred men ... and more ... all dead," he finally stammered, incredulous. "I doubt someone may have saved himself" said Gieve gloomy, observing the dreadful scenery of death and absolute violence in front of them.
"Let's go down" Farangis said, stiff on the saddle, and, without other words, spurred on her mare with the white fur now covered with filth. The animal discarded on the trembling legs of exhaustion, but obeyed and with prudent caution started go down the stony mule track.
Gieve leaned over the damp neck of his horse. "Courage, my friend," he said, caressing the animal that was snorting clouds of steam. The steed, exhausted, shook his dirty mane and a few drops of white foam fell to the ground between the animal teeth, tight on the bite.
"All right," the minstrel sighed. He raised his right leg to climb over the saddle and slid down. Touching the ground, he made a grimace of pain at the contracting of the bruised muscles of his shoulder.
"I hope Daryun is still alive, just to make him pay all this bother I have to endure because of him" grumbled in grasping the reins to lead the horse downstream.
Isfan gave him a dismal look. "I will never understand how General Daryun can stand you" he growled.
Gieve shrugged. "Perhaps because he likes me" replied, "or perhaps because he knows what gratitude is, contrary you" added and pulled the horse, causing it to snap sharply forward, so that Isfan was forced to swallow the angry words he already had in throat, and to hastily grasp the saddle.
"Now shut up, if you don't have anything smart to say. That man I see going to meet Farangis seems to me your friend Jimsa" Gieve said, watching the slender figure advancing towards the priestess, while she was coming down without waiting for them.
"Jimsa, pleased to see you again" greeted the warrior priestess, stopping the horse when the young, former commander of Turan and now ally and Arslan's friend, was in front of her.
"Venerable Farangis, you here. I didn't want to believe the sentinels who told me they had seen you" Jimsa said. "Are you hurt?" he immediately asked, seeing the bandaged hand of the priestess and the sign of scratches on her face.
"It's nothing. We were overwhelmed by a landslide, during the earthquake two days ago, while we were crossing the Khojir gorges" answered Farangis.
"Yeah, the earthquake," Jimsa said, twisting his mouth. "Never saw an earthquake like this, it shook the mountains like the wind shakes the trees." He looked up to look at Gieve approaching with Isfan, then suddenly he changed his expression and, with a jolt, turned back to Farangis. "The Khojir gorges ?! Have you crossed the Khojir gorges!?"
"Yeah. We were in a bit of a hurry, so we took the shortest route, and traveled at night," Gieve pointed out, while he stopped beside Farangis.
Jimsa opened wide his black almond eyes. "You are crazy!" exclaimed, and the nearest men turned to look at him, perplexed, then he noticed the conditions of Isfan and again looked worried.
"Isfan has nothing serious, just a broken ankle," Farangis said. "Now tell me, Jimsa: what did you discover here? Daryun is not among the fallen. How many survivors with him? Did you find them?"
Jimsa looked surprised. "You know that General Daryun ... "
"I know you didn't find him among the dead, otherwise you would be much more pained and upset than you appear now" asserted the priestess.
Gieve had a half smile at seeing Jimsa's expression become, in a few seconds, first surprise, then embarrassed and perplexed, and finally resigned.
"You're terrible, my lady," said the young man from Turan. "Terrible and beautiful, like a stormy night in the steppe. A man has no hope of concealing you his heart."
"Yellow adulator" grumbled Gieve, but no one gave any sign of having heard him. "So, where's Daryun?" he asked then raising voice and looking around. He shuddered and shook his head. "What slaughter ... only Daryun had could get out alive from this carnage."
"Actually ... here ..." Jimsa hesitated before continuing. "General Daryun is not here. We don't know where he is, and if he really is still alive. We found only his cloak ... in tatters."
Gieve tightened lips to hold back the imprecation that was about to escape him. Isfan had a discomfort move and leaned even more on the saddle.
"Where? asked Farangis dryly.
"Come with me," Jimsa said and turned.
Farangis dismounted and followed him, leading the exhausted mare by the bridle. Gieve approached her and, as he walked behind the young man of Turan through the devastated battlefield and the burning fires, felt his soul grow heavier.
"I am afraid that at last I will have to prepare that funeral composition" he said softly. A gust of wind blew in his face the smoke of a pyre, igniting his dry throat.
Farangis did not answer. Suddenly she left the reins of the horse and passed Jimsa to head for long, rapid steps towards some rocks that protruded from the devastated ground, on the opposite edge of the valley. Jimsa almost had to run behind her and Gieve was forced to drag the horse with Isfan over, risking each time to stumble across the pits that dug the ground like open wounds, or desecrated graves.
"Yes, this is the place" confirmed Jimsa, finally approaching Farangis, who had stopped at the foot of a rock spur, from which the ground began to rise towards the stony hump that bordered the valley. "Zaravant found it when the fog cleared up enough to make out something. Impossible not to recognize it, despite being torn and ... and covered in blood."
"I wish I could doubt it was his blood" Gieve said, looking at the point indicated by Jimsa. "Shabrang?" then asked , while looking the swollen carcass of a horse abandoned nearby, among the stones.
Jimsa shook his head and Gieve nodded.
"Well, good sign," said the minstrel, but he could not smile.
"Have you seen any drawings around here?" asked Farangis, all of a sudden.
"Yes, my lady," Jimsa answered, and became rigid and cautious as if she were afraid of something in the air. "Snakes. Snakes traced everywhere along the delimitation of the valley, as symbols of a huge spell. Just as Qbad had said" he became silent and thoughtful. "The demons of your land are awakened, venerable Farangis," he added later, almost in a whisper.
"Yes, thanks to Prince Hilmes, who let himself be manipulated like an idiot, and thanks to us, that we have completed the work," Gieve said with a sigh.
"What do you mean?" Jimsa asked, turning to the minstrel.
"We'll talk about it in another moment, now I need Isfan," Farangis said. "Help him to disassemble" She ordered, addressed to the two men.
Gieve held out his hand to the wounded boy, but he pretended not to see him and instead grabbed Jimsa's arm. As he slipped from the saddle, Isfan stumbled and clung to the young man of Turan.
Gieve sneered. "Next time, I leave you under the landslide" said in annoyance.
"Look at these traces, Isfan. And you, Jimsa, describe what you found when you arrived here" Farangis commanded again.
"The fog was thinning" Jimsa answered, while Isfan, always supporting to him, leaned forward to scrutinize among the stones on the ground trampled and upset. "When we arrived here, under Zaravant command, we were just beginning to glimpse the ground. The fog was so thick that it stuck to you like a spider's web. At first we did not see anything. We were looking for the drawings that Qbad had said we would find, but there seemed to be nothing. Only, suddenly, we saw them, then ... then we realized that there were weapons and horse harnesses on the ground. Spears, swords ... some were scattered on the ground, others come out from the ground, partly buried." Jimsa shuddered and ran a hand over his dry lips. "After a while, we saw that not only weapons came out of the earth , but also arms, legs ... horses paws... "
"Are you saying that the bodies were half buried?" asked Gieve.
Jimsa shook his head. "No, it was as if they were dragged underground still alive" he said darkly. "When we started pulling them out, we saw the expressions on their faces ... or what was left of them ..." he swallowed and looked at Farangis. "We unearthed some men, then we found the ghouls ... and then the first sorcerer." He stopped at the glare in priestess's gaze. "Yes, my lady. We found some, but when we touched them, they burned in our hands. Burned without fire ... from the inside ... they crimped on themselves, like dry leaves near burning coals. And then... " Again Jimsa stopped and seemed he did not want to continue.
"And then what?" urged Gieve, now following Isfan's movements, who was scanning the ground and sniffing like a wolf.
"And then the earth began to vomit corpsea" Jimsa answered and lowered his head to hide the lost expression of his eyes. "Torn bodies ... only a few were still recognizable, and only some of those with an intact face Zaravant brought back to Peshawar, taking with him General Daryun's cloak," he breathed deeply and resumed. "Most corpses, however, can not be transported ... " pointed to the fires. "they are devastated ... rotten as if they had been dead for weeks rather than a few days. Some spell must have reduced them like this."
"Or rather a poison," Gieve answered. Determined not to appear impressed, he trampled the remains of what had been the design of a snake on a rock protruding from the ground.
"Or maybe both," Farangis replied. "What can you tell me, Isfan?" she asked, quickly approaching the young man, who now seemed agitated and was leaning towards the ground, helped by Jimsa.
"These tracks are confused, my lady" replied Isfan, "but I believe that General Daryun has tried to bring his men on the rocky ground ... certainly to escape the sorcerers. Ghouls have tried to stop them. Look there, where the earth is broken."
"We found many bodies at that point" confirmed Jimsa, "of men and ... other. Qbad reported that General Daryun had ordered the retreat, but while Qbad, after being wounded, was being carried off by his men, he lost sight of him in the fog. He said they all disappeared, as if swallowed up by earth."
"Apparently, he was not wrong" Gieve said darkly.
"Daryun and his men have headed north, there, towards the mountains" said Isfan pointing to the outlines of the distant mountains.
"In the opposite direction to where Peshawar is," Gieve observed. He frowned and looked at Farangis. "If they survived, they'd be back to the fortress by now."
"I need a fresh horse" suddenly said the priestess, turning to Jimsa regardless of the words of the minstrel.
"My lady?" asked the young man of Turan, surprised.
"Two fresh horses, please" Gieve intruded with a grin.
"Three!" Isfan snapped.
"You are not able to continue" replied Farangis, while Jimsa called a soldier to give him the order to bring the requested horses.
"Venerable Farangis ... " protested Isfan, but the priestess silenced him with a wave of hand.
"You go back to Peshawar with Jimsa's men, it's an order" imposed the Mithra warrior priestess. "You will have to conduct Kishward on our tracks, and reach us as quickly as possible."
"Who will guide you, if you leave me here?" insisted Isfan.
"The Djinn will come back to talk to me, when I'll be far from this place," the warrior priestess answered with absolute firmness.
"At your commands" Isfan surrendered, however gloomy.
"You still hope, my lady?" Jimsa asked, handing over to the priestess the reins of one of the horses that the soldier had led, obeying his order.
Farangis jumped onto the saddle. "I promised his Majesty Arslan that I would find Daryun, and I have a message for him from Narsus. I don't intend to disappoint either one of them," she replied.
"I'm coming with you. Of course I can't let you go alone among these wild mountains," Gieve said, and in turn climbed onto the horse that was offered to him by the Peshawar soldier.
"Do what you want," Farangis answered and spurred her steed.
"Greet Kishward for me!" shouted Gieve, addressing Jimsa and Isfan, as he galloped behind the priestess.
The two young men watched them go. Then turned to the battlefield where the funeral fires still burned.
"They will never find him," Jimsa muttered. "No one could have saved himself from such a spell."
Isfan nodded sadly. "I fear it too, but I am sure that if anyone had could be able to do it, that man is Daryun, and they will find him, wherever he is."