Alarik's Crusade

CHAPTER 10: THE HEART, THE MIND, AND THE WILL

“It didn’t have to be so violent,” Adilash said with his thin arms crossed in defiance. “You heard what Majad said. She was torn to pieces. Is that our way? Is that how we wish to treat anyone who visits this rainforest?” He and Jathi were in the same spots they were the last time they discussed this matter, with Adilash sitting on a fallen log and Jathi up above. The difference is, neither was lounging as they were last time. Their decisions had made things suddenly far more real once they’ve seen the repercussions - or, thankfully, only heard.

“The manner in which she died was regrettable, admittedly,” Jathi said.

“Is that all you have to say? I’m not Majad. You can speak to me with some measure of warmth, can you not? I know you still have a heart in there.” Adilash had long made fun of Jathi for sounding as formal as she does when addressing their unnerving companion. This time, however, he meant it to be more pointed.

“We knew what we were doing. The moment we sent him out to deliver that potion was the moment we knew we’d be testing their… restraint. This was our plan, Adilash! If they cannot withhold their more base desires how can we expect them to respect our territory? How could we see them as allies? They’ll seek to covet all that we have the moment they see the power we are capable of. All of our lessons, our morals, our beliefs are based upon finding balance and measure in what we have, and if they possess none of those virtues, then these are the consequences. If they show they cannot do something as simple as have a taste of our potions without finding themselves…” she stumbled over the next words.

Adilash was quick to take advantage. “Without finding themselves eviscerated?”

Jathi looked down, smoothing some of her silky black hair. Adilash was her heart and soul, and she knew his worries were fair. Still, she remained resolute. “I - we - did not choose her path.”

“It was a path that would not have existed had we not created it for her.”

She stopped fiddling with her hair, and stood up instead. Adilash stood as well to face her, but for little purpose. The regal, beautiful woman towered over his tiny frame. Still, there were times he could find a way to look down on her in spite of their difference in height, but she was determined not to let that day be today. “So what do you have us do, then? Our people placed us in this position to meet these invaders and to deal with them as we must. To protect Hashai! What do you think we should do, if we are not to test them? If they cannot control themselves on these simplest of offers then they’ll be burning down our rainforest just to get another taste. You know it. You know it, yet you’re still worried about the fate of a single woman as our whole nation is under threat!”

“Restraint,” he said, hands down by his side and showing very much of what he spoke of. “As you said, our whole culture is built upon it. We’ll continue to make the offers and test their resolve, for the sake of our people and our best interest. But we must not be so cavalier about their deaths, if it is to come to that.”

The hardness in her face softened considerably. It was why she needed him. Her ruthlessness and pragmatism would reach almost into zealotry if it wasn’t tempered by Adilash’s calm. Many wondered what a woman such as her could find in a man such as him, but in her mind they were two halves of a full being.

Yet, deep within her heart, she could feel the fire in her growing, knowing that had it not been for Adilash, she would have had them destroyed before they set one Vanderik foot in this rainforest.

“Very well. I will keep on the path, but I will think on their losses.” She waited for a respectful moment before continuing. “We should summon Majad.”

--

The Hashadi had a saying. Whenever something is to be done, send three things; the heart, the mind and the will. Removing even one piece would end in tragedy. Majad always saw himself as the lattermost of those pieces. His heart had long since grown cold, and his mind was meant only to understand the orders of those he trusted. He was the body’s limbs, their swiftness, their decisiveness. Once the plan was decided, he was the hand that thrust the knife. If needed, he would even be the one to twist it.

​The morning was warm. Most mornings in the rainforest were. The animals were already beginning to wake and start their chorus of bird songs and insect chirps, a peaceful sound but one never far from danger. He knew the camp he watched over would be hungry, and thus he knew the Khorsuli would be on the hunt. Their goal this fine morning was to take a few of those animals from the choir and put them on the spit.

​Peering into their camp he saw a number of them still milling about, unaware of his presence. Their actions were becoming familiar, mundane even. Edda was sleeping, her stomach rising and falling with the breaths of one still deep in a dream. Majad thumbed a dagger at his side. With the Khorsuli gone, and the camp that much less aware, he could slip in before her brute could notice, slit her throat and retreat into the rainforest faster than a shadow flees the light. He dismissed the idea. The mind gave no such direction, and the heart did not see it fit.

​The navigator could be easily taken as well. Separated from the group, he sat making notes on their location and distance, taking great care in choosing the right path for their group to continue. Majad’s hand went to his dagger again, knowing he wouldn’t draw it but desperately wishing to. He understood their logic in having to eliminate the intruders only by their own hand, if they were destined to be eliminated at all. Yet the draw was strong. Surely they were to die out here. Couldn’t he expedite the process? He drew his hand back, the dagger’s siren song calling him.

​Focus, he demanded of himself. That was not their will.

​Circling the camp with footsteps so soft they hardly left a mark in the soil beneath, he quickly found his path. It wasn’t long until he happened upon one of the hunters. There, sitting on a rock, already having caught a handful of small animals, was Shalmanesser. He lay across a rock, bathing in the sunlight, all four limbs stretched each in their own direction. The skinny man didn’t so much as blink until Majad was standing above him, noticing only because he was directly in the way of him and the light of the sun.

​Shal blinked his eyes, not a trace of embarrassment after having been found looking as foolish as he was. There was, however, an astounding abundance of fear. The Khorsuli leaped from his resting place, his spindly form thrashing and flailing like a leaf in an updraft. He landed just past the rock with his feet propped up on it, looking even more ridiculous than he had a moment prior. “Inaya!” he called out instinctively, hoping his hunter companion wasn’t too far out. He reached for his bow, not far from his grasp.

​“There’s no need for that,” Majad said, his voice calm, which did nothing for Shal’s nerves. “And if there were, you would never reach it regardless. I’m here to offer you something, Shalmanesser of Khorsul.” Shal blinked in response, his eyes still adjusting to the light. “As you know, I’ve been following you all. Watching your every move.” He received little from Shalmanesser beyond a nod. Majad suddenly doubted this plan. Perhaps his appearance was simply too much for the boy, or the shock at his sudden arrival would spoil his offer.

​Majad thought a slight course correction would still be within the ‘will’ of the mind that sent him here, like a twitch after touching a sharp object. He reached into his robe and pulled out a flask. Walking up to him, he lifted up one of Shal’s tiny arms, looking especially small in comparison to Majad’s strength, and asked him to hold out a finger. He dabbed a single droplet from the flask onto the end, a miniscule, sparkling brown liquid. “Taste it,” Majad instructed. Never letting his eyes leave Majad’s, Shalmanesser carefully brought his finger up to his mouth. He was told only to offer the liquid - but circumstances had changed. Majad still felt he was well within the boundaries of what the heart and the mind wished him to do.

​Immediately, Shal relaxed. His shoulders lost the tension they held, and he fell back into the dirt and vegetation behind him, looking up at the clouds as he had just moments before. A wave of calm passed over him like the tide dousing the sand of a beach. “Well,” he said, finally finding his voice, “maybe you’re not quite as scary as I had thought.

​Majad took a seat on the rock Shal had fallen from. “I’ve been watching your lifestyle, Shalmanesser of Khorsul. You lack ambition.”

​Shal prised one eye open. “Might be right,” he said before laying his head down again.

​“It’s not a fault. We in Hashai say to follow in the ways that bring joy. You seem… particularly joyful.” Talk of joy seemed strange from the raspy voice of Majad, but Shal’s newfound calm ignored any discrepancy.

​“You have that right.”

​“I notice you fell asleep a distance from the camp. If you need rest, why not take it within the safety of your companions?” Majad asked, knowing exactly why.

​“They all think I’m lazy,” he said, missing the irony of saying so while lying on his back in the sun. “I’m a good hunter. I get my work done. So when I finish, I take some time out for myself. If I do so back at camp, Inaya will bother me with something, or one of the others will get after me for not carrying my weight. It’s not like I’m a lot of weight to carry!”

​Majad nodded, slowly. “I understand.”

​That was enough to cause Shal to prop himself up on his elbows. “Do you? You seem so tightly wound you might burst out of your sides.” A line he would not have dared speak if not for the taste of the elixir Adilash and Jathi had prepared for him. “Look, take a seat with me here in the grass.”

​“I’m afraid I’ll not have much to see,” Majad said, tapping just beside his milky white eyes.

​“Come on now, you’re clearly seeing the world in some way. I’m no fool. Not sure how you’re doing it, but you’re doing it. Now really, take a seat.” He patted the ground beside him.

​Reluctantly, Majad joined him, every moment remembering that he was the will of the body, and what the body demanded he would complete. If it meant a strangely undignified seat on the rainforest floor, then so be it. He joined Shal to stare up at the sky.

​“Now that you’re here, just let the sun relax you. Feel the warmth and let go.” Shal interlocked his fingers and rested them on his stomach, crossing one leg over the other. He looked like the very picture of peace.

​“I understand the appeal of your way of life,” Majad told him.

​“No,” Shal said with an exhale. “You don’t.”

​“I do. I do not view the world as you do, but I understand your plight.” Just one look at Majad would tell just about anyone he did not share the same carefree, casual worldview as Shalmanesser. Yet, he seemed adamant. “Our differences are far simpler than you believe.”

​“How’s that?” Shal asked, either genuinely curious or hoping to let Majad carry the effort of speaking alone.

​“I believe I’m placed on this earth to put the desires of my people into action, to change the society in which I reside for the betterment of the Hashadi. I’m the fist that the mind demands to strike.” Those words should have terrified Shal, but even a drop of the potion was enough to let it slide. “I command change. I am change. Our differences lie in that you accept what comes to you, and I accept the instructions given. Neither of us chooses our path. We are different, yes. But I understand you.” Majad returned to his seat on the rock, not urging Shal to meet him eye to eye.

​Shal nodded, a slight movement that was all he desired to muster. He still looked decidedly at peace, but perhaps a little more pensive than before. He raised a finger to the sky, got tired of holding his arm up, and split the difference with resting his elbow on the ground pointing upwards. “See that sun?” he said, as if it was something he could miss. “It comes around here pretty well at the same time, every day. Nothing I could do about it even if I tried. That sun will just keep rolling from one side to the other, and show up out of nowhere the next day. I could rage and scream against it - as if I’d want to - but it would just keep coming back anyway. So I’ve opted to sit back, and learn to enjoy it. I’ll let you try to change it. But I doubt you’re making it any brighter, so I think I’ll just sit back.” The arm flopped over his eyes and he breathed out a deep sigh of contentment again.

​Majad took out the flask again and placed it in Shal’s palm, who picked it up and inspected it. He shook it, feeling the weight, or more accurately the lack of it. “Thank you. But… not a lot in here,” he said.

​“A drop allowed you to speak to me like an old friend. It’s far more than you need. It’ll last you for ages.”

​Shal dabbed a single drop onto his finger and touched it to his tongue. Immediately, he felt an immediate rush of ease and relaxation, even greater than last time as he was particularly relaxed already. “See? All I did was lay back, and this wonderful change came to me. Perhaps we need each other.” He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Hmm. Perhaps you don’t need me.” This time, he just shrugged. “Either way, I appreciate the gift.”

​“I’m glad to be of service, Shalmanesser of Khorsul. But tread carefully. There are grave consequences for those that drink freely of our elixirs.” Majad became very stern, or at least more than before. “I am warning you. Do not take more than what is necessary.”

​“Or?” The word was slurred and drawn out.

​“This is a gift meant to be appreciated over a great stretch of time. Shalmanesser - listen to me and listen well. This calm you’re feeling. You do not need more. You’ll be able to rest in the sun without a care in the world for the rest of your days, if only if you’re to imbibe from this elixir slowly. Over time. Too much will be dire, of that I can assure you.”

“Too much… of this? Impossible.”

“Our shaman are powerful, thin man of Khorsul.”

“Oh, believe me, I can tell. But I don’t see how-”

Suddenly, Majad felt the watchful gaze of the heart and mind over him, even if they were not there in form. His statement was made, and that was all that was necessary. He gave one, final parting warning. “A single drop, as needed. That is all. Any more, and you will slip out of the very nature of reality and be unable to pull yourself back in.”

“Really now, are you trying to sell me further?” Shal said with a laugh that sounded more akin to a wheezing release of air.

“I am not. Listen to me when I say that you most certainly can drift farther than you would wish to.” Calm, still, but urgent. The will, that was all he was meant to be. He was not to overstep his bounds, and having already placed the elixir in his hand was bordering on going beyond his charge.

“Well, well,” Shal said, exhaling deeply. “That’s where we differ again. See, you’re probably thinking if I have too much, I won’t be able to change the world, right? Things will happen to me, not because of me, or… or something, you said it better than I did. Now here’s my thoughts. I hope to never have another worry again in my life. I can just… sit and bask in the sun all day. Now, for me, that’s fine. I don’t need much else. The sun’s the same here as it is in Khorsul, anyway.” He put the flask between his teeth and tilted his head back, finishing the entirety of the flask in one single gulp. A moment later, it fell out to the side of his mouth, and he didn’t say another word. The barest, slightest hint of a smile crossed his lips.

​Majad stood up and dusted himself off. He picked up the flask and returned it to his robes. “Yet we are the same, Shalamnesser, thin man of Khorsul. The world changes not because of us, but to us, deemed by the actions and desires of others. I tried to warn you. As instructed.” The sun was warm, and he allowed himself to enjoy it, at least for a moment.

​---

​Where was that idiot? Inaya was genuinely fearful that if they discovered how little work Shal was doing, they would refuse to pay him. She’d been covering his duties since they arrived, catching far more game, scouting during his hours, watching out for the camp when he’s watching the clouds roll by. Her jaw hurt from clenching.

​Carrying in a sack over her shoulder were a handful of edible - albeit barely edible - small animals. It was growing far too heavy, and she just wished to be back at the camp, yet she knew that if she didn’t find Shal in time he’d likely come back with nothing. She’d been hoping to find him to split the catch between the two of them, giving the impression he was an equal part.

Putting the pack down, she rotated her shoulder in a circle, the joints feeling tighter, snapping and popping with the motion. She left the pack and went towards the camp, hoping to lock on to the spot where they separated. With the experience in tracking she had, it wasn’t long before she was on his trail, vaulting logs and avoiding the more ornery insect and spider life on the trees as she went. There she found him, lying back with his feet up on a rock, gazing up at the sky as he always had.

“You idiot,” she said, storming towards him, uncharacteristically letting her guard down from the wildlife that she knew surrounded them in the rainforest. Her fury was the one thing that would take her from the task at hand. “I leave you to hunt, and yet again I find you this way. Of course I caught enough for you anyway, but this - this! - is just too much. I can’t believe - are you even listening to me?” She leaned closer. “Hey! Hey,” she yelled again, softer now. “Shal?”

Her face began to get warm, warmer than the beating sun and this blasted rainforest would account for. She leaned in close, and saw he was still breathing. “Shal, if you’re playing with me…” she mumbled, desperately hoping he was. She tapped him on the cheek, and again, harder than the last time, trying to get him to stir. “Shal!” she yelled at him, causing the birds nearby to take flight away from her. His eyes were glossy, his stare vacant and mindless. It was as he always was, but so much more so.

She stood up and stepped away from him, putting her hands over her face. There was only one way to find out what happened here. Reaching down to the ground, she attempted to commune with the animals of the area to see what she could discern from them. The beasts of the land communicated what they saw, her mind’s eye granted sight of what transpired. In her vision, she saw the masked Hashadi approach Shal. They spoke with each other for a time until he drank from a flask, and… relaxed, resting, just as Shal looked now. She pulled her hands up from the ground, ending the vision, and said a quiet thank you to the beasts that provided her this information.

Thankfully, Shalmanesser has always been a particularly thin man, and she was able to sling him over her back and begin to carry him back to camp, albeit with great effort. While she was worried, she did not show it. She’d long learned to suppress her emotions and reactions in dire situations such as this. Countless times had she been confronted for her thievery on the docks only to remain calm and nonchalant when it was needed most. A crisis is never a time for panic.

She stumbled into camp and laid Shal out in a tent as delicately as she could, collapsing beside him and allowing herself just a moment’s rest. All the while, Shal hardly stirred, still breathing but barely, with - oddly - a hint of a smile on his face. He looked entirely at ease, a stark contrast to how Inaya felt.

Alarik saw them arrive, and burst into the tent, taking a knee beside Shalmanesser and checking for a pulse. “What happened?” he asked. “Tell me everything - quickly!”

Inaya caught her breath and tried to explain, everything from her finding him to the visions from the beasts to her travels back to camp. To his credit, Alarik, wide-eyed and attentive, took in everything. “And now he’s here. Whatever was in that flask… I cannot say it was poison. He doesn’t seem ill, just… gone. It’s like he’s a shell.”

Shal finally moved. He raised one hand to the sky, pointing past the tent that blocked his view. “Sun,” he muttered, closing his eyes slightly and still giving the faintest hint of a grin.

“Shal!” Inaya was at his side in a moment. “Quick, help me carry him outside. He wants the sun, maybe we should give it to him.” At that, Alarik nodded and put his hands under Shal’s arms, and moved him outside to catch the light.

The rest of the party crowded around now, every bit as confused as them. Edda put her hands over her mouth and kept muttering, “Oh no, oh no,” as if she her hope could cure whatever trial was happening in Shal’s body. Farmund, as always, was there just to provide a shoulder for Edda. The rest just watched, jaws slack. “He’s still breathing,” Alarik noted. “There’s nothing… outwardly wrong with him, aside from some extreme form of lethargy. I doubt there is very much we can do at the moment.”

Inaya tented her fingers in front of her mouth, wondering herself what she could do for him. There truly was very little. “We’ll keep him comfortable. Keep him rested - as if we have any other choice…” She stood up, walking out of the camp. “I’ll return when I retrieve my catches.”

“You don’t wish to stay with your friend?” Alarik asked, not quite an accusation but sounding terribly close to one.

She held her arms out wide. “You said it yourself. There’s nothing we can do for him right now. We, however, have to eat.” She stormed away quickly, not allowing the others to see the growing fear and frustration on her face.