11
FEBO’S ISLAND
Zoroastro’s Machiavellian machinations, I must say, were much more macabre and twisted than I would have ever been able to imagine. And if I express myself in these eloquent terms, so little flattering towards him, it is because irrefutably, and in a fairly short period of time, I had to suffer in the flesh the reaches of his overwhelming revenge. Zoroastro was a despicable and resentful being flooded with a false sense of authority. As enemy was brutal and treacherous, he implemented grotesque actions, thinking them, analyzing them and carrying them out, without any sense of proportion, with the sole purpose of inflicting the greatest possible damage to the recipients of his punishment. Everyone knew his relationships with ceremonial black magic. However, no one dared to defame him or denounce him, taking into account that the few that tried, ended up buried six feet under in the depths of the Death Valley or missing from the face of the Earth. Feared, more than respected, he was considered the Lord of Shadows and he acted with absolute impunity governing the creatures of the dark side of magic.
However, as I learned later, Zoroastro hadn’t always been like that: the terrible creature that transits evil and violence fairways, by distilling sorrows and calamities everywhere he goes. No! There was a time in which he was a child so tender and delicate as any other, whose loops, gilded by the sun, abundant, hung from his head as grapes from a French vineyard in harvest time; and with the smooth face of an angel, as the one emulated by Raphael Sanzio hands in his wonderful painting, “The Two Angels”. With respect to his parents or relatives, no one had never heard of them; and of his childhood, very little was known. What strange force led him along the paths of evil? What was the cause of his undoing? It was a mystery.
When we finally arrived at the port, the ocean was calm and serene, in contrast to the anguish sea that I was feeling inside. A handful of gulls dipped in the blue, alternatively, to re-emerge from the heavy waves then, victorious, with the fishing product hanging in their beaks, which would serve them, subsequently, as food. The silhouettes of some planted coconut trees along the coast, leaning by the action of the wind, in pitiful attitude, bent as if they were carrying a heavy load, folding in reverence as sympathizers of our unique destiny.
Leonardo approached the cart to help me descend. Batam and four other inmates were behind me. We had our hands tied with a thick and strong rope with a knot in the style of the sailors, which were greatly hurting our wrists. I felt the same as an African slave, transported by pirates to be sold to the highest bidder in the new world, back in the days of the colony.
The boat was of an exuberant theatricality, all conditioned to cause more fear and uncertainty as possible. The sails, hoisted, wilted and yellowed by the harassment of saltpeter and time, were raised, weak and lazy, almost about to collapse over the bare-bones boat. The obsolescence of the ship was reflected, unfortunately, in the lacerations of the wood which composed it; dirty, black, rotten and wet wood that threatened to capsize the boat at the smallest provocation; the old musty smell and oxide stains were everywhere in sight. All there creaked: the floor creaked, the rails creaked, the chairs creaked, the mast creaked; even the members of the crew, creaked. The captain was a middle-aged man; very outlandishly dressed, tanned face by the excessive sun, a fluffy beard covering a mouth that was missing some front teeth and made his smile looked like a corn which had been amputated some grains. Seeing the boat and crew condition, I sensed that Zoroastro intention was that we wrecked in transit, before we got to the island.
Already shipped, the magician took away our ties, after a heated discussion with Zoroastro, who intended to keep us tied, as sheep, during the journey. And it is that Zoroastro’s machinations had no price. Sailors were not very happy with my presence on the boat. Being a woman, they considered me as bearer of bad omens and, possibly, as a cause of a likely shipwreck. Batam was very scared, since the moment we climbed on the bot he sat on a bench, as had been told, and did not moved, either by fear or because nausea wouldn’t allow it. At all times, Leonardo was next to me, repeating his recommendations and encouragement words.
Suddenly, as a confirmation that my presence was bearer of bad omens, a thick fog began to cover the boat, and the sailors, afraid, blamed me for that natural event! As if I had the power of Jupiter on bad weather and tides! The sea, serene when we sailed, now was enraged, powerful, enormous, shedding the sails and turning them into broken strips hanging from the mast with an undulating motion that looked like the tongue of a dark monster making woods creaked even more, incessantly, as if Neptune were splitting the ship with his two hands. During the period of time that the storm lasted it was all movement and confusion. Sailors ran everywhere carrying straps and ropes to ensure everything that could be secured. Batam had risen from the bench and clung with a hug to my waist, and with this simple action he almost put me on the verge of strangulation. On the other hand, Leonardo made every effort to protect me from the intense wind and deafening noise. The wind was so strong an intense that we could hardly move in search of a better site. Zoroastro, meanwhile, in the cockpit, spit orders over the sailors who couldn’t do anything else but rather run, tie and hold objects that the wind flew through the air, fast, to crash in the swirling waves that roared with ardor. We, at plain rail, stayed together, crammed and soaked, tasting salt water that the waves threw with fury and without mercy upon our helpless faces. After a few minutes, the storm stopped as quickly as it had begun; but the hostile look that the sailors gave me made me fear for my life.
Fortunately, at sight, the silhouette of an island was approaching: Febo’s island. Both Batam and other defendants stood up and walked to my side, for better observation of the island that soon would be our final destination. It was not very large but very populated by coastal vegetation: stylized palms, dunes and intricate shrubs. A necklace of white sand surrounded the entire island. In the distance, I spotted the outline of what was the pier built with a bunch of stones united by some agglutinant element. The beach looked very beautiful from the boat, the same as those warm waters beaches from the Caribbean Sea. Leonardo approached to whisper to me:
-Do not be fooled by the beauty of the surroundings. In this case, beauty is a trap. You should be very careful!
Batam also listened with attention and stealth; then he began to tremble.
As soon as we disembarked, they drove us to the shore; I could see, much to my regret that the sailors were very pleased to leave me there, in those conditions so unfavorable to any human being.
Then, Zoroastro, acting in his capacity as judge and executioner of the judgment, took from his pocket a wrinkled and old paper sheet and using that tone of voice so tyrannical and authoritarian that dictators use when targeting people, he recited a few hypocritical words of encouragement; and once he had spoken, gave the order to the bodyguards and staff to embark the boat again.
Leonardo came to me. The farewell scene, as all the real-life drama, was punctuated with a touch of cunning and comedy. And this touch was starring by Batam, who at the very moment to set his foot on the white sand, collapsed, falling on his knees with a vanquished resigned attitude; but in a very theatrical and dramatic way that emerged the smile on the faces of everyone. Other inmates ran deep into the depths of the jungle, ignoring my recommendation that we worked as a team.
Ah! But Leonardo in his farewell prepared me a surprise that left me full of amazement and excitement. The surprise was the words that he whispered in my ear, and that I would remember forever, even years later, whenever I was facing so drastic and final situations such as the ones I was facing there which merited the aid of a foray into the joys of life. After an embrace that lasted many seconds and while I was still in his arms, then, he whispered these words:
-All the verses that you received were written by my hand. Please, Camila, come back to me! Promise me that you won’t let anything wrong to happen to you.
<Please, Camila, come back to me>, these words, which had also been sealed with a kiss, echoed in my mind minutes later when Leonardo, hurried by the frantic cries of Zoroastro had to embark the boat and disappeared from my sight.
Batam urged me to walk towards the center of the island, as the other inmates did. We had lost sight of them, but lost as I was in the flow of my feelings, I did not quite assimilate what it just had happened: my dream, the novel of my imagination, whose main protagonists were Leonardo and me, jumping up to reality, came true.
Batam watched me worried:
-Camila, do you really think this is the time to reflect? Get off that cloud!
-But I'm happy, happy, and happy -I replied with great emotion- Leonardo loves me, do you know what that means? -I smiled so wide and to appease I had to give small jumping on the sand.
-Yes! It means that if we do not mobilize soon, instead of being happy, happy, happy, we'll be dead, dead, dead.
I immediately fell on account of our situation. There would be time for the musings of my mind and love affairs! Then, I looked around. It was a beach with white sands. The waves breaking on the shore, gently, leaving a trail of refreshing foam. Nothing seemed to insinuate that it was an evil, sinister place, but rather a tropical beach where at any time tourists may be sunbathing under the caresses of the oppressive sun.
-Come on! -Batam said- the others went over there -and pointed to one direction.
The indicated address did not inspire me confidence. The vegetation was very intricate and probably plagued with "grelis". I warned Batam that we should go another way.
-We must find coconut palms with toucans fluttering around their leaves.
-Are you sure? The scene that you painted looks more like coming out from the cover of a travel pamphlet than to reality.
-Trust me, Batam.
The Genie scrunched his pants to the knee, took off his shoes and tied them up by their braids to his waist and began to walk with me along the bay. Ah! Batam on the premonitions and hunches issues relied much on my common sense! After an hour of searching and not finding the trail, Batam was beginning to show signs of impatience.
-If the ogre mansion is in the center, any way we take toward the center will take us there.
I tried to appease him with words:
-I am just trying to find the way with less danger. Do you remember what Leonardo said? "Grelis" are evil and I know they prefer intricate paths to ambush unwary walkers who cross them. And neither you nor I want to be those walkers, right?
The sense of danger never left us during the time we were on the island; especially when we heard the cries and screams of inmates when they were under attack. Cries so spooky and terrified as those only are heard in the torture rooms of some dictatorial regimes, cries that are recorded in the soul and won’t be forgotten ever, much more, when you hear with the conviction that you can't do anything to help.
Batam, from a jump, stuck to me, preventing me from walking. He was terrified and overwrought.
-Calm down, Batam! We must continue, we can not spend much time in one place in order not to be tracked or we will be in trouble.
Embraced, we walked a few meters further and spotted a trail with coconuts clumps and toucans hovering around them, the same I saw in my vision.
-Oh thank you, God! -Batam said- I am very thirsty. Perhaps, if we move a bit we could find a river.
-We have no food or water.
The Genie stared at me a long time, then said:
-Ah! Haven’t you? What you have tied around your waist looks like a water bottle and hopefully it contains water.
I looked down and there was a small water bottle tied with a multicolored ribbon to a few chocolates melted by the intense heat. Surely, Leonardo had placed them there when he gave me that wonderful hug that came attached to his love confession. With intense emotion I praised mentally the good sense of the magician, we took a bit of the wonderful nectar that water is and saved a little for later. Also saved some chocolates, although melted and glued to their packaging until hunger were more pressing.
All our forces were being drained by the walk and the sweltering heat. Batam dragged his feet sinking in the sand. Now we hardly talked. In this catatonic state in which we found ourselves, I had the feeling of being watched. As the time passed, the feeling became stronger and more forceful. I went to Batam with caution and I told him my feeling. Soon, he was alarmed:
-Oh, this cannot be! –He said scared- could it be an animal, a bug or a creature? Are you sure? Is it not that the heat is making you imagine things? What if they are cannibals? Oh, God! I don't want to die bitten and full of saliva! What are we going to do?
-Anything -I said- we will continue walking. We need to find a safe place to spend the night.
The Genie walked quietly, looking on either side of the road.
-Do you think that it is one or more than one? -He asked concerned.
-Don't know. Do you remember when we met? When I asked what a genie did, do you remember your answer?
The Genie said yes and shook his head.
-I want you to do exactly that! Color Fog! And when you do, I want you to run towards the cave that is behind that tree, do you understand?
Again he nodded.
-Well done! We will make it to the count of three, one... two... three!
Batam showcased a thick black fog; so thick and dark that until we had problems to mobilize and find the cave. This trick was an excellent because allowed us to escape from the "grelis" who began their attack at the precise moment in which the Genie began his act.
Already under the protection of our cave and after a quick inspection of the site, we looked out and dedicated to studying the strange creatures that Leonardo had mentioned: the grelis. They were small, hairy and with unpleasant aspect; had huge eyes that occupied half of their face and moved in herds. They seemed taken aback that we had escaped.
-They must be very concerned their dinner escaped -Batam pronounced.
Then we heard another scream; it looked like one of the young thugs who had embarked with us. The "grelis" dissipated and ran towards the place where the scream had come.
Batam-Al- Bur was frightened. Fear would not let him think; and this fear condensate in his bowels extended its claws over his body and gave him a pale grayish color to his complexion. I felt sorry for him, that he would have to go through such a situation because of my fault. He was such a good friend that was not even expressing loudly the disputes or misfortunes he was experiencing.
I decided that the cave would be a good place to spend the night.
-We’ll spend the night here, Batam. The "grelis" do not approach caves. They are afraid of confined spaces; I could see it in their eyes. Don't ask me why I know it, but so it is.
Batam leaned back on one of the stones that were abundant in the cave. Mentally I had already outlined a plan to bring me to the Febo’s mansion, but could not do so with Batam. His fear paralyzed him, instead I, a little more trained in issues of survival, would take me half the time in the coming and going to the mansion, if I achieved the Genie remained in the cave: I will try to rescue the Prosperity Horn by myself.
I took the chocolate and shared it with him; it was melted and sticky but tasted as an exquisite delicacy. I took some water from the bottle, and elsewhere, pour the tea Severa had given me and offered it to Batam. I knew that it would put him to sleep for a while and that would be very good in accordance with the guidelines of my plan; at least while I go and come to the ogre mansion. That was the plan.
I booked another sachet for the big guy. Then some minutes later, as soon as the Genie took the tea fell asleep on the same rock where he had been sitting moments before. I settled him as I could on the cave hard surface and he seemed to be quite comfortable given the smile emerging on his face. Due to the rudimentary conditions of the place, I took his turban, made a ball then placed under his head as a pillow. I hid the entrance to the cave with a few leaves from fallen palms that I took from the surrounding and left him a written note in the sand detailing my plan, just in case he wake up before my return.
After having fulfilled all these considerations, I left and a starry sky greeted me with passion. The moon, with her round face, smiled at me from the heights, illuminating me very well the path. I squeezed Leonardo’s reliquary in an attempt to emulate his proximity, but in doing so, it opened and a slight line of light joined the one emanating from the moon. The magician had thought of everything. With the light of the moon and the light of the reliquary I could walk without problems in the deep dark of the night. Then, I smiled.
Meanwhile, in Eisenbaum, a very different scene unfolded at Americus’ residence. Leonardo and his father talked about current events and the concern was reflected in their faces.
-I know Zoroastro, father. I know that he will do everything within his reach so the inmates succumb on that island. They won't have the chance to come back. I must do something: so I would take advantage of the darkness of the night to sail there and make sure I bring Camilla and the others back.
Americus scowled; he was aware of the dangers involved in a raid on the island, and despite the fact that he did not want to expose his son to these dangers, also understood that it was the only way out they had to rescue us.
-You are right! But must be very careful as Zoroastro and his team are expecting you do precisely what you are planning to do in order to accuse you of conspiracy. I am sure that we are being watched. There are two men stationed behind some bushes in front of the house these days.
Leonardo stepped restless by the reduced space that was the hall, ventured up to the window and looked out to see what his father had informed.
-I knew it. That is why I cannot use magic, but I have a plan.
When Americus was going to ask about the plan, a dry sound announced that someone was knocking at the door. Immediately, the magician went over and opened it. Severa and the Victors were gathered at the gate frame.
In the small hall of the house, the magician informed of the plan. It was simple; and precisely because of its simplicity, it had many chances of success. That night they would have dinner and would act as if nothing was happening; in this way they would make believe to the spies that Severa and her sons visit were purely a courtesy. After evening, Severa would leave and Leonardo would leave the house as if he were one of her sons, Victor Rafael would remain with Americus, taking the place of the magician, so dressing Leonardo’s outfits until the next day. Once the group had left the residence, Leonardo would rush to the port where one of the members of the Brotherhood had been advised to make arrangements to transport him to the island and wait for the group to bring them back to Eisenbaum.
At nine o'clock in the evening, he began to execute the plan. They dined without delay, as main dish was served orange chicken, seasoned with anguish and uncertainty, accompanied by a creamy puree and glazed carrots; as a beverage, a wine, Château Margaux, enough moderate doses availed not to breathe the clarity of the understanding and played some music pieces from the father of the Symphony, Franz Joseph Haydn, very proper for the occasion.
After a reasonable period of time Severa followed by her sons headed toward the porch and began walking slowly toward the cart, as planned. The night was cool and the moon faintly outlined their silhouettes. A cool breeze was squeezed among the cedars and pines on the East side and directly hit their bodies, increasing their amazement and distress.
Zoroastro’s spies lagging behind some bushes witnessed the scene. Meanwhile, Severa, Leonardo and the remaining Victors contained their breath and without much flaunt, rode in the cart; Americus and Victor Rafael waved their hands from the door as a sign of farewell, covered by the penumbra of the porch. Once the wagon pulled away, they relaxed and entered the room. The escape was underway.
Hundreds of miles away, I still struggled to find the path that would lead me to Febo’s mansion; but the visibility was zero because a thick fog had blocked my step and vision completely, forcing me to crawl along the sandy ground and probe the area with my bare hands. I would not advance much in this position. However, it was the only way I had forward at that moment. After a long walk dragging, I felt a presence. "Something" was near me. That "something" was crawling like me, producing strange sounds; I paid a lot of attention trying to decipher what it was. Then, I thought it might be a reptile and fear started to take shape in my mind.
-No "grelis" please! -I begged.
However, I did not stop my dragging and continued as I could. After a few minutes, my hand stumbled upon another and my cry was joined to the other, and my stupor was joined to the other, thus my anguish, so my fear. In front of me, despite the fog; the silhouette of a young man drew slightly and nailed me with his eyes as if they were two daggers. We saw each other for some seconds and when both recovered our composure, the mutual interrogation took place:
-Who are you? -I could barely ask, rescuing the soundness of my voice.
The other person took his breathing and said very emotionally:
-My name is Freitas and you must be the woman on the boat, right?
I recognized one of the young offenders whose appearance did not inspire me confidence.
-That’s me! My name is Camila. Have you heard from the others?
-It is only us -was his only response.
I sensed that everyone else had died; but I didn't want to hear the details of those terrible deaths, so I didn't ask.
-Do you know that only one of us will leave the island? -He asked with malicious and intimidating tone rising and shaking the sand from his clothes.
-Yes. I know.
-I am glad you know -he continued sarcastically- because that'll be me.
I tried to control my nerves. I knew I couldn’t trust him but didn’t want to have him as my enemy or openly confronted him. I looked at him with indifference, also incorporating me until my eyes were at the same height as his. We seemed two foxes trying to calibrate the ferocity of the other.
-If that is your decision, I respect it! But we can make a consortium and help each other to get to the mansion, once there the best will win -I expressed conciliatory.
The mist began to clear up so I could see his rustic features and scars coming from side to side his cheeks.
-I agree -he added- Let’s walk; have no time to lose.
And he wanted to seal the pact with a strong handshake; so he lengthened his to find mine. But his was dry, full of calluses and abundant cracks squamous, weeping sweat; and mine was so soft, despite have been dragged through the sand, so rosy, so full of life, which in no way wanted to crash on the one waiting on the other side. However, for the sake of survival, I tried to control my repulsion and placed mine on his. It was not time to go with presumptions. I immediately pulled back and stopped a few steps away. His eyes, fixed and challenging, rested on me; for my part, I walked away a little bit more and started walking.
I wanted to know a little about him and asked the reason why he was serving sentence. He looked at me again, and spitting at the side of the road, put his two fingers over his lips cleaning the remains of saliva, then paused and answered:
-I killed two peasants and you?
His fierce eyes looked at me waiting for my reaction to his response. I should reply, without showing signs of fear; as if what I just heard had not torn the limits of my sanity. I took a few seconds to ponder what my answer would be. Then I said:
-I killed four.
He smiled, as if by the affinity of our crimes we became, instantly, best friends. My answer seemed to satisfy him greatly, because from there on we traveled the path without major setbacks; as if an intricate code of honor had amalgamated us in the same level of crime.
It was almost seven o’clock in the morning when we arrived to the vicinity of the mansion. A walled house stood on top of a sandy hill, not very steep. The walls were stone solid, not very high, so one could see most of the structure of the building. Hidden under the cover of the now squalid vegetation, we looked carefully for the best way to go.
We were hiding behind some shrubs but they did not cover us completely. Ah! But it was there when Freitas brought out the truth of his dark intentions; with a loud bang that he punched in my ribs, he left me lying on the ground while he rushed toward the wall with the intention of jumping it. My warning cries announcing that the only possible entrance was the front door were in vain. He thought that it was a trick to take him to a certain death. I heard his footsteps unchecked until the wall skirt; I listened as he took a momentum and jumped to the other side of the mansion; and I also heard, a few seconds later, a strong terror cry that confirmed me that he was being attacked, but there was nothing I could do. Then, there was only silence.
I stood as I could with my sore ribs; walked with much pain, dragging my steps. Freitas’ hit had been strong; it had taken my breathing and speech. I walked hidden among the plants in parallel line to the wall to locate the main entrance. Just a few meters, I spotted it; and along with it I also spotted two winged creatures, with the body of a lion and the head of an eagle, located on either side of the entrance, in rest position. Their oblique eyes seemed to have a 180 degree view amounting to encompass the entire perimeter. I remembered the wise words of Leonardo: I should use the talisman and do not look at the eyes’ creatures. I took my hands behind my neck and, to my dismay; the reliquary was no longer there. I checked my clothes hoping that it had fallen and engaged somewhere, but nothing. I had lost it, but where? Would it be possible that Freitas had snatched it? No, it was not possible; I had been careful enough during the whole journey and neither had he approached me to get it without my knowing. There was no time to go back to look for it; I had only five hours to fool the creatures, enter the mansion, locate Febo and put him to sleep, find the Prosperity Horn, locate Batam, escape and go to the beach to be rescued by the boat, without Febo and the creatures even noticing. Too many tasks for such a short time! And without the talisman I had to find a way of entering the residence without being seen. I had to think about the best strategy to achieve my task.
Wit is definitely the mother of all inventions. I remembered having seen, a few meters away, a handful of "pazote", an herb belonging to the same family of parsley, which Severa taught me was a very aggressive irritating to the nasal and ocular graves of some animals. I thought I could crush them and spread them on my clothes, taking care of protecting my eyes and nose to avoid irritation, and with this small gadget I might cheat the monsters if they had nostrils as ours.
I quickly ran to the place where the "pazote" was, but when I got there, found that a herd of "grelis" had wagered in the place. They were seated in small circles and communicated with a strange language that came out with a throaty sound. A "greli" of dark and pointy ears, apparently the one of higher rank, gestured and produced strange sounds at the center of the circle. The rest was winking and clapped at the same time.
I went face down on the ground, in a strategic location that allowed me to see them without them noticing me and kept that position for a long time. After the meeting, they all gathered to eat; and a very old greli loading a large pot served a kind of muddy mixture with remains of green leaves with a ladle on dishes of very rudimentary manufacturing. They devoured all in seconds with their bare hands. After the meal, each looked for a comfortable place to romp and sank into a deep sleep. The group was not very large, eight grelis at the most. Few minutes past, I started moving slowly, step by step, without making any noise; I wanted approaching until the "pazote" crop was. As I walked I observed more closely these strange animals, they looked like squirrels but had long, curved hooves and long, sharp teeth as the walruses.
When I arrived at my destination, the group was still asleep. I carefully began to pull up the plants from the root; I didn't want to accidentally let escaping the irritant liquid from the leaves. I took a handful and tied it with a rope around my waist and started walking along the same path that took me there. When I already thought that my task had been successful, one of the grelis woke up and began to scream at an alarming rate, announcing my presence. Others joined screaming and tried to catch me. Ah! But I was very fast and, of course, more intelligent and wasn't going to let me caught by those rats-otter, nature scarecrows creatures. I wouldn’t let them. I ran with a zigzag movement that apparently confused them and running as I was, turned to look back from time to time to appreciate the distance that separated me from them. Given that neither the race nor the distance diminish the determination of these 'things' to reach me, I resolved, squinting my eyes, go crushing the "pazote" and go releasing it while running with the mythological agility of Achilles.
I must say that this trick was an undisputed and simple success. The creatures began to roar as soon as they smelled the grass and began crying as hungry little babies, giving me time to disappear from their view and return to the road towards the mansion. However, I was not entirely unscathed; my own eyes were reddened by the irritation. With much effort I found a few steps away that other herb, very praised by Severa for its healing qua