Yngve, AR - Darc Ages 02 - City Of Masks Read online

  DARC AGES 2

  CITY OF MASKS

  PROLOGUE

  IN THE YEAR 941 AFTER MONRO OUR GODDESS, ALSO KNOWN AS YEAR 1 OF THE SINGING KING'S AGE, A GREAT NOISE FILLED THE ATMOSPHERE OF OUR WORN-DOWN, WAR-WEARY EARTH. AND THE SOUND WAS CALLED "RADIO."

  From walled city to walled city, from continent to continent, across the glaciers of the Eternal Ice in the north, over the ruin steppes of Old Juro, over the lands of mighty Awrica, across the oceans spread the rediscovery of radio transmission, quickly replacing the nobility's centuries-old laser networks.

  The man brought down to us from the Golden Age in a frozen sleep, DARC, who rediscovered radio, called this change "democracy of the air." Commoners and burghers, who had barely glimpsed the world outside their fortified cities, were suddenly exposed to voices from other lands and peoples. And all classes of people listened in to Darc's continued broadcasts in "The Voice of Liberty." Darc gave them the gospel of the Plague Cure, and the music of the Golden Age, and the songs of Vis the Singing King which carried the power of Rokenrol.

  And so the world slowly, fitfully, began to rebuild the greatness it had once lost.

  But there were yet cities, cut off from the ancient laser-transmission networks, or suspicious of change, that would not turn their old ways so easily. Where messages could or would not reach, messengers had to be sent in.

  The master physician Mechao the Nineteenth founded a University of the Sciences on his home island Kap Verita, off the northwest coast of Awrica. And in this year, for the first time, he sent his offspring into the world to teach and to learn, to spread the knowledge of the Plague Cure and help put an end to the dark centuries.

  While I still went by the name Awonso of Damon City, a humble apprentice librarian in the castle of Lord Dohan Damon, I joined this great work. And thus my eyes were opened to the mysteries of other lands, above and beneath the ground.

  Together with Mechao's son Threo, Sir Kensaburé Orbes and Lady Okono Yota of North Castilia, I was sent on a mission to northeastern Italica, to bring the Plague Cure to the city of VANITIA.

  Here follows the tale of our adventure in Vanitia, the city of masks...

  Excerpt from Librian's "Chronicles" (translated from the original language)

  Chapter 1

  When Lord Dohan of Damon City called for them, they were quick to oblige.

  Kensaburé Orbes arrived late, like his father. The young knight, dressed in his clan colors of checkered black and blue, had changed since the Battle of Kap Verita. In a remarkably short time he had grown into a blond, short-haired giant of a man with a small beard on his chin. He traveled without a following.

  For a moment, stopping in the doorway to the great hall, Kensaburé hesitated and made to bow. But Dohan Damon waved at him to join him at once to the table, where the other visitors waited. When Dohan greeted Kensaburé and clasped his burly hands, the city lord noticed his guest's quiet, muted mood.

  "Is all well with your family?"

  "My brother tried to talk me out of this."

  "But you want to join my Conference of Knights?" Dohan, a red-haired man not yet twenty years old, moved and spoke with a maturity that belied his age. "You told me on Kap Verita, that you wished to serve our great cause."

  Kensaburé nodded. "Yes, but my brother still smarts from the shame of having fought you on the wrong side. I... I think I need to get away from my home city for a while, until the family's pride has healed."

  Dohan patted his shoulder. "And Saburé shall be welcome to Damon City whenever he pleases. Now join us. I have much to tell, and not enough time... ever since I became city lord, it seems I never have a minute to spare! The first free elections cannot come soon enough... I look forward to leaving all this paperwork in other hands!"

  "Is Sir Darc here?" Kensaburé asked in a hushed voice, as they walked to the great table. "I heard rumors..."

  "All that I know is that he still moves about in North Amrica with Shara Rawiman, and that Leper girl they adopted."

  "And your aunt Bwynn, she has moved to Pasko City with her husband Andon Pasko?"

  "My wife visits them there as of now. From what I heard, they will soon rename their city after Bwynn. It needs a woman's touch, after all the misery the Paskos caused."

  Kensaburé took a seat next to Dohan's high chair at the long table. He bowed to the other guests: important people from Damon City and other places. He bowed his head to the slender, graceful Lady Okono of the powerful Yota clan; she smiled softly and nodded back.

  Her long black hair was braided with glowing electric jewelry, and her red and white clan colors formed a dragon pattern on her wide-sleeved dress. Her Oriental eyes were downcast, as if it embarrassed her to be there.

  Kensaburé quickly adjusted the creases of his thick tunic, and felt awkward in her presence; it took all his willpower not to stare at her beauty. Okono's personal servant robot stood waiting behind her chair - a short thin-legged thing with a wide head and bulbous, childlike eyes painted in human colors.

  His own clan was still flat broke after the disastrous brief war with the Damons; he could not afford to bring even a measly robot, much less an entourage.

  Then he noticed the curious stares from the chubby, monk-like Awonso and his master, old man Librian, who sat on Dohan's other side. He nodded to them and they nodded back. Any friend of the great Darc was worthy of his respect, no matter how lowly of station.

  Next to Awonso sat a stranger with deeply tanned skin, who did not seem to come from the land of Espa. The stranger wore a foreign, brimless round hat, a gold and white tunic adorned with strange symbols, and a physician's ceremonial stethoscope around his neck collar. The physician seemed no older than thirty at most, and wore round eyeglasses.

  Dohan raised his drinking cup and toasted his six guests, and shuffled a stack of papers. Kensaburé suppressed a smile as he watched this battle champion try to act the seasoned administrator. Dohan seemed lost from the moment he did not have a sword in one hand and a gun in the other.

  "Friends from Yota, Orbes, Damon City and my esteemed guest from the House of Mechao..." Dohan nodded to the foreign physician. "I have good news and bad. Our new powerful radio transmitter, manned and maintained by our Guild of Micromechanics, has gained a reach across all of Espa, to the coast of Italica on the other side of the eastern sea. Every week I receive messages and transmissions from some city I have never heard of, and they all ask for shipments of the Plague Cure. I have even heard of Leper tribes who have a radio receiver, though I cannot for the life of me understand how they got one..."

  "As for the bad news... it is crucial that the ancient roads, land and sea routes are reopened. Our jet fleets are simply too small to distribute the vaccine with efficiency. But even as we make great progress rebuilding the roads here in Madrivalo, there is yet no good road out of Espa and to Italica. So the routes by sea are becoming extremely important, not only for transporting the vaccine, but for creating trade and prosperity for our peoples. I have sent radio messages to Darc himself, and asked for advice. This is what he told me, in a reply sent from Amrica yesterday..."

  Dohan shuffled his papers again, found nothing, and Awonso started. The round-faced apprentice picked up one of his own papers and handed it to the city lord.

  Dohan read out loud to the others: " 'Try and gain access to the great old ports of Italica first of all, and the rest of Juro will follow. The names of the cities have changed, but there is one in the northeast which used to be called Venice. Send an emissary there, give the vaccine to the citizens, and promise them great trade profits if they form an alliance with you. Good luck.' I trust his advice. Libr
ian?"

  Librian, the bespectacled, balding man responsible for the great city library, sat slumped with his back bent forward. With an effort he began to stir, when Awonso urged him to sit and save his strength. It surprised Kensaburé how rapidly the old man had aged since he last saw him. In these times, everything seemed to go faster...

  Awonso unfolded a freshly drawn, crude map of the Mediterranean region across the table.

  "According to our map archive," Librian explained in a thin voice, "the linchpin of sea travel in the Mediterranean Sea was once located in the city of Venice, here." He pointed a trembling finger to the northeastern coast of Italica on the map, overlooking the Adriatic Sea. "Unfortunately that city disappeared in a flood, hundreds of years ago. But another city has long existed in the same region; it is called Vanitia. We have no radio or laser contact with Vanitia. It does trade with other Italican coastal cities, and from their communications we learned that Vanitia possesses a very strong outer defense. The city not only dominates the area, it actively prohibits access to the Adriatic by land and sea. No one knows..."

  Librian coughed and paused for a breath. No one in the room could help but see that his health was failing. But then he straightened himself up and continued in a stronger voice.

  "Awonso and I have communicated by radio with trade houses in the cities surrounding Vanitia. The trade dukes told us that Vanitia normally does not allow visitors. Its trading and toll-collecting with passing ships is mostly performed through robots, or by masked emissaries. But no outside emissary or dignitary, not even a city lord, is allowed inside the city itself."

  The doctor from Kap Verita cleared his throat and said with a heavy accent: "Pardon me, but that sounds just like the Forbidden City in Dakchaor, east of my home island... except that the Forbidden City does not limit trade, it encourages it."

  Dohan said to Kensaburé: "Our emissary from Lord Mechao, my brother-in-law Threo, is correct. He has the Plague vaccine and can teach other doctors how to make it, but he alone cannot reach Vanitia. We need to send a group of bright emissaries and crack this nut open. The other cities in Italica are unable to manufacture the Plague vaccine in any large quantities, and we must open the route to Italica before we can reach the other parts of Old Juro and move on eastward. This is where the esteemed Yota clan comes in. Lady Okono... if you may?"

  Okono Yota rose slowly, her manner visibly formal, and switched off the blinking jewelry circuits in her hair. With one slender, pale hand she urged her robot servant to come forward. The machine clicked and whizzed as it tiptoed on four rapidly moving legs toward the table. The other awestruck visitors gazed at the robot; it was faster and slimmer than any of the old, heavy models inherited by the other clans, and resembled no machine they had seen before.

  Okono said in a small, shy voice: "This is Kiti-Mo . Say hello to the people you see, Kiti-Mo."

  The robot's large head blinked with its ridiculous humanoid eyelids and spoke in a crude, lifeless monotone, without a visible mouth: "Hello. Greetings. I am Kiti-Mo, property of the Yota family. I speak many languages and translate them."

  The robot made a swift, rickety bow. Kensaburé was duly impressed - though the infantile eyes seemed so obscene on a thinking machine. The Yotas, ancient masters of micromechanics, were often overly fond of their robots.

  "I made Kiti-Mo with the help our city's engineering guilds, in order to facilitate communication with foreigners and dignitaries. Do you like the eyes?"

  Kiti-Mo blinked again with its huge painted eyes, and Kensaburé had to restrain himself from laughing. Awonso made an amused smile.

  "This robot may become our trump card," said Dohan. "If the Vanitians want robots, we shall offer them the best robots in the world - the ones that only the Yotas can build - in return for opening the road to Italica. And I want you to go there, my friends."

  Kensaburé drew a deep breath and his chest swelled with excitement. This was what he been waiting for. He stood up and pounded a fist into the table so that the cups and plates shook.

  "By the Singing King, I'll do it!"

  "I knew you would!" Dohan beamed and slammed his own fist into the table, before he seemed to remember his new role and checked himself. "The esteemed Lady Okono has already volunteered, and of course the honorable Threo of Mechao. Librian has requested that Awonso should follow you along and take care of your radio equipment... he is quite the expert."

  All present, even the big-eyed robot, looked at Awonso - who blushed and wanted to hide under the table. He had dreamed of this chance for years, to finally see the world outside Damon City... and yet now the prospect scared him. He did not feel heroic; he was a commoner. And yet... he had embraced the high-priestess and had spread the knowledge of radio. In some circles he was considered a future guild leader, and even his parents treated him with great respect. So why did he not feel brave now?

  "I offer my humble service in this mission," he said with his eyes awkwardly downcast, and only the slightest stutter in his voice. "With the grace of the Goddess and the blessing of the Singing King, we cannot fail."

  "So be it." said Dohan, and raised his cup. "Tomorrow, you travel by jet craft to the eastern coast of Espa, and from there by ship to Italica. I shall remain in radio contact, but this is all the time I have to discuss your mission... from now on, you shall regard Kensaburé as your leader and my trusted right-hand man. He is a brave warrior and knows how to judge a man's heart. Speak your mind to him, and he will listen - for he will need all the advice he can get. Godspeed!"

  They all rose, except the robot, and raised their cups in a toast for success. Many young hands trembled just a little in that moment - for this group of people had never been to Italica.

  Then, Dohan's little sister rushed in through a side door, and almost crashed into the table. Her blond hair falling in a mess over her flustered face, her black dress rumpled, she started tugging at Dohan's sleeve.

  "You've got to let me come along!" she begged. "You promised I was going to see other countries!"

  Dohan frowned and froze up, visibly embarrassed. "Eveli, go outside. I will talk to you later."

  She released him, but her posture was so fierce that it almost seemed to frighten Dohan. The pimples on her young chin, and her behavior, explained everything to the guests. Threo thought of the epic temper tantrums of his sister Meijji, and wondered if Eveli would prove just as rebellious.

  Brother and sister exchanged brief glares before Eveli stormed out and slammed the door behind her.

  Dohan sighed. "Here I am," he mused quietly, "king of a city... but not of my own house."

  The meeting broke up in silence.

  Chapter 2

  The travelers could only bring along a very small entourage, and had to carry only a few personal items and clothing, plus the gold to pay for their expenses. Concealed money belts were applied; a smaller version of Kensaburé's mechanized armor was packed into the jet ship, and Awonso had to pack only two small books, a map, and a diary.

  On the morning of Awonso's departure from Damon City, his parents hugged him repeatedly and made an embarrassing spectacle of tears, waved handkerchiefs and shouts.

  The other travelers said goodbye to most of their entourages, who left the city by land on the newly opened roads. Kensaburé helped his one manservant carry his armor into the transporter jet, a Yota ship piloted by a silent Yota clan member.

  As Awonso climbed the rope ladder into the ship on unsteady feet, while its jet engines were running, his parents tugged at his sleeves and offered last-minute prayers and words.

  "Send us a radio message every day!" pleaded his mother. "Bring me back any new circuits you can afford!" asked his father over the engine noise. "They can make us a fortune here!"

  "Goodbye!" shouted Awonso, climbed into the passenger hold, pulled up the ladder and shut the hatch. He barely had time to strap himself to his seat, before the transporter took off.

  The jolt when the vibrating craft shot up into t
he air almost made Awonso throw up. He stared out of a porthole and gasped: Damon City, his birthplace where he had once expected to live out the rest of his days, quickly shrunk into a circular toy town. And he could see the roads stretch away into the distance.

  How small and pitiful his home seemed from the air, and how majestic the landscape.

  "This is your first flight, eh, Awonso?" asked a cheerful Kensaburé from the seat next to him. Awonso nodded, and gripped the armrests of his seat tightly. Kensaburé laughed. "If you catch the airsickness, find something to throw up in. Do not make a mess on the floor - the Yotas would take great offense!"

  Okono, who sat in front of them and next to Doctor Threo, turned her head and raised a fine eyebrow at them. Awonso swallowed and struggled to hold back the nausea.

  "You are going to do just fine," said the young blond knight to him. "I have heard only good things about your knowledge and resourcefulness." He leaned over and lowered his voice: "Is it true that your city's high-priestess gave you... a personal blessing of the intimate kind? Her Holiness Inu herself?"

  Awonso nodded hesitantly. "Please do not ask me about that. I made a vow of silence."

  "Of course." Kensaburé straightened himself. "What can you tell me about Vanitia, then? I am not good with books... and this mission was planned in haste."

  Awonso brightened up at the opportunity to share his learning. "Master Librian has found, in his communications with other cities, what Vanitia looks like from the air. We drew this map..." He produced a rolled-up map from his satchel and showed it to the others. Threo, who had been tensely silent most of the time, turned in his seat to see.

  Okono must have been listening in, as she pushed a concealed switch - and her seat rotated 180 degrees together with Threo's, so that they faced Awonso. The manservants of Kensaburé and Okono sat behind them, listening in silence.

  Okono's servant, a large bald man in black clothing, stared stoically ahead of him. Kensaburé's servant, a veteran of the battle of Kap Verita, was bearded and had a large scar across his face. He was also silent. Okono's robot stood in a corner of the space, wrapped in canvas, and could neither see nor hear.