The Wars of Zegandaria - Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (most inspirational books txt) 📗

approaching him. The sensors were a simple system for transmitting signals from a distance. The Guarron had stolen and cleverly used some of the advanced technology of the humans, though this was almost prehistoric by zegandarian time standards.

'Zontrag, you son of a bitch, did we agree to warn me with some sort of signal. If I kill you, it'll be your own fault.,' thought Kier Zoh.

But wonder why the footsteps seemed to stop. Kier Zoh began to sweat. He wanted to jump up and stick the blade in the intruder's neck, be it his own co-conspirator, but something made him unable to even move.

'Or has he come up with some dastardly plan?,' the prince wondered, gripping the hilt even tighter, assuming a combat 'plough' stance. This fighting stance, widely used by the warrior guaroons, allowed freedom of movement and the ability to parry blows in an orderly retreat. One could both slash and parry.

They must have figured out his plans. Kier Zoh knew his brother's intellect well, and he was definitely not to be underestimated.

Suddenly, a playful figure appeared from behind the rock. It looked far too slender to be that of a man. Yet she was well put together.

The prince gaped. It certainly wasn't Zontrag, nor was it his brother. But then who dared to come here?

- 'I come to you unarmed,' he heard a voice that was too unambiguous.

- Ras Tian!

Kier Zoh looked at her in disbelief. What was she looking for here?

- I do not come to beg you to spare my brother's life, for I know the rules of the dance of death. Our tradition is unbreakable. But haven't you lost something lately?

The nobleman pursed his lips testily, still clutching the hilt of his weapon. ‘How dare he blackmail me?’ he wondered.

- 'You're obviously missing something very important,' Ras Tian continued without even batting an eye at her.

Kier Zoh was in no hurry to answer, as his face was hidden beneath the hood of elurian skin, and the fact that he wore a mask prevented her from seeing the stretched, devilish, frightening smile on his face.

- 'I may have taken some precautions after all,' he hissed.

- 'But what are you going to do after you become king?,' she asked him somewhat casually.

- Nothing in particular, except to place the guarrons under my power and restore their dignity. The human army is defeated, albeit with my brother's help, which makes my task even easier.

- 'You're very much mistaken,' Ras Tian objected in a tone that truly startled him. Her confidence couldn't be mistaken.

- 'In what?,' Kier Zoh was calm, but his tone shouldn't fool anyone. 'Didn't I wait all these years to get what I want?'

- 'Marak Tulba bequeathed something else to our race. That is why she brought down Gimlin Orn. That's why she chose Midriel. She chose good,' she whispered, somewhat softly.

- 'You know nothing,' the prince laughed at her. 'I have been underestimated and unnoticed all my life. Now at least tradition is on my side. I have a right to revenge myself for all these years of disappointment.'

- 'Tradition is not on anyone's side,' Ras Tian replied sharply. 'Our ancestors created it for their time. But it's different now...'

- Kier Zoh had turned almost white with spite, 'Who can say that to my face? Let him have that audacity? I'll slaughter him like a dog!'

Transformed, covered in elurian skin from head to toe, Ras Tian approached the cleric. She had become simply unrecognizable. Her tall stature was accentuated by the benzoin naraments typical of the guardsmen of the King's army. She stepped slowly, oblivious to her opponent's anger. He seemed to flinch.

- 'You were the one saved at that riantian well. Your fate would have been different, but your brother broke the curse,’ her voice boomed menacingly.

Strange as it seemed to her, Kier Zoh was left with her mouth hanging open, but still with her eyes squinted, full of hatred. He kept his eyes on her, even wondering if his fellow scout had already been killed by one of his brother's trusted men.

- 'What do you know about this whole story?,' he almost hissed. 'Even the dead groandus in the sacred fields of Au Kaktir were not born at that time - and you are so young.'

- 'You're wrong again,' she turned to him with a pure smile.

The prince was now quite confused. Disbelief was written all over his face. But somewhere there was beginning to be read some vague note of readiness to accept what was said as at least possible. Not as truth, of course! This was sheer madness! He, a pure-blooded warrior of Zarag Tu's camp, a prince of the guarrons, saved in this way. But still, some glimmer illuminated his memory.

- 'Who are you?,' he asked her in a voice quite inhuman.

- 'I am Marak Tulba,' replied the maiden with icy calm.

The pretender to be king screamed and fell on his eyes. His forehead hit the hard sand. No guarron - good or bad, pureblood lord or common soldier - had the right to disbelieve her.

- 'That's not possible,' the prince ordered the words, subdued as if by a higher power. 'You are purely and simply the daughter of Tur 'ai San. Chief of my father's guard. It is not possible for you to deceive me.’ He was already on the point of lashing out.'

- 'Stop, mere mortal, and think. What happened then?,' her voice boomed again.

Kier Zoh seemed to sink deep into his own subconscious as if spellbound, and then he saw a small baby foot protrude from that same well. Some hand was inexorably clasping it, but what it was he could not see, much less understand. It all unfolded very quickly, and he was once again thrown out of all that nothingness he had been immersed in only moments before.

He looked around. It was beginning to get dark. There was no sign of the goddess's spirit. Of Ras Tian too.

 

^^^

The prince pondered. The Sacred Fields of Au Kaktir were legendary and were located behind the Misty Mountains. In this distant place was the cradle where he himself had been born. Why was this happening to him right now? Power could have escaped him. All too easily at that. Yes, of course, he was not alone. There were other allies besides Zontrag who had his back, but most wanted his brother as their leader. That was known by all. Somehow he more clearly expressed the line of succession. Tradition, however, was above their preferences. No one would step on it. He remembered one of his favorite children's songs.

 

Na Ras Tu Ri Ozo

We sing and laugh.

 

Ano Siro Das Tul

We defeat our enemies.

 

Ji Li Ho No Do.

Traitors die.

 

The little guarron babies were lulled to sleep with her by their brave warrior mothers. Each of them would be proud if her child became a Nas Radal, or in other words, part of the ruler's elite guard.

One thing, however, inevitably crossed his mind, and that was that, in addition to being cruel, the guarrons were selfish. Perhaps that was what was ruining them. He also realized what a big egoist he was, wanting all this power for himself to hide the fact that he didn't know how to do anything, or more accurately, that he didn't know how to realize his full potential. The life of a prince was not as easy as it first seemed. It was really hard to find a place under the sun. This really pissed him off and he stuck the blade of the laser cutter into a nearby rock. There was a deafening clatter, not because the blow was too loud, but because the blade nearly broke on contact with the hard chunk of granite.

Now he was alone, completely alone, damn alone and free to make a decision. A decision on which his further fate depended.

‘Perhaps it is my destiny to return to Au Kaktir again,’ ran through his mind. - ‘Perhaps therein lies the answer. But first I must end this duel. For better or worse. Otherwise I'll look like a coward and a fool.’

'Remember what happened then.,' the voice of the goddess ran through his mind.

'Surely there is a way for both the wolf to be full and the lamb to be whole,' he continued his reasoning.

At that moment a noise came from behind him. It was Zontrag. It was obvious that he had definitely been in a hurry and was sweating. From under his bushy eyebrows his eyes darted restlessly.

- 'There's a big discrepancy between your expectations and what they're up to. Whatever you do, you won't be the next King,' he snarled. 'The ceremony was to take place with or without a duel. But the commoner's eyes were to be blindfolded. That was convenient. Your father regretted it, but Nundrag had been chosen.'

Here Kier Zoh turned, and he way was a little surprised.

- 'Really?,' he asked with a certain amount of slyness in his voice.

- See the duel could not be avoided. That much is clear. But he won the sympathy of the Nas Radal fighters with his last victory. That is a very strong trump card in his hands. Everyone sees in him the warlord.

- 'But he still has to kill me, doesn't he?,' the pretender to the throne growled.

- 'Ras Tian saw me. She's on my trail,' Zontragg snapped, changing the subject of the conversation. 'I pretended not to notice her. I sneaked away and hid.'

- 'She was here a moment ago,' Kier Zoh nailed him for a moment. 'She beat you to it.'

The spy simply fell silent.

- A whole theatre played out. Said she was the mother goddess Marak Tulba. And I fell on my eyes to show her I believed her. We have to buy time, however little it is.

Though he was skilled in his craft, Zontrag remained gaping-mouthed for a split second. Then he added with dignity.

- Actually, that was part of my plan. The little brat couldn't die if we didn't make her feel important. But she could definitely be an asset to us.

- 'Au Kaktir?,' the prince recited.

- 'Exactly,' the spy whispered, indicating that he had been behind the rock and had overheard some of their conversation. 'We're not allowed to make mistakes this time. We must somehow make them follow us. The groandus have an excellent sense of smell. It won't be a problem for them to find us.'

- 'Shall we proceed as planned?,' asked his co-conspirator, just in case. 'The only way to truly defeat him is to make him lose his legitimacy as ruler. And that can only happen on your turf. Not on his.'

- 'Exactly,' was the prince's response.

Behind them, the desert whispered magical words and huge sand clouds crashed against the rock they had hidden behind. It was beginning to grow dusk. The Syrenath winds were going to pick up and make the air even harder to breathe. Once Ras Tian had found them, his brother would surely soon finish as well and the duel could begin. But right then, he would fall into the trap!

They had to get to Au Kaktir at all costs. Their plan was to ride relentlessly there, to avenge their own race for its choice to accept Nundrag. The climate of the mountains was harsh, and even large animals like the groandus would have a hard time climbing some of the ridges. Moreover, they were not stocked with food and water. They were going to have to deal with traitors, as the children's song went. Or so they hoped.

After more than two days they were at the foot of the mountains. The majestic cogs were shrouded in mist, and crushed elateran clay encased some upward-curving and pointed, boar's-tooth-like, shallow rock formations called eolierants and resembling something between a stalagmite and a ponor. A fine rain was beginning to fall, and the rustling water was lost unknown where in these formations. The harshness of the surroundings made the blood in the veins freeze. Kier Zoh