CHAPTER XI
The day dawned clear, and the light already flooding every corner of the mountainside revealed the enormous snowfall that had covered the entire mountain in white during the night.
As usual, Gunuruk woke first. After brushing away the snow that had accumulated on his blanket, he got up, grumbling about this most inconvenient turn of events.
Without wasting time, he began preparing the Lewiks, still muttering as he searched for the kettle and cups that had disappeared beneath the white blanket covering everything.
Hanna was not long in waking. When her friend had climbed out from under the blankets, he had left an opening through which the snow soon found its way to her.
With a shriek, she sprang upright, shaking her head wildly as she tried to dislodge the icy snow sliding down her back.
Gunuruk was startled at first. She had risen so suddenly that he thought she was about to leap at him. Then he could contain himself no longer and burst into loud laughter.
“Look, Gunuruk!” Hanna exclaimed excitedly, gazing all around her. “I never imagined this place could be so beautiful. I’ve never seen so much snow! What’s that over there? What’s that place called? Do you see that mountain? Can you see it?”
She went on pointing at almost everything in sight, asking one question after another.
“Which place you mean, I cannot tell, because stop talking you cannot! Hanna!” Gunuruk replied, apparently having recovered the bad mood in which he had awakened.
“Sorry. I’ve just never seen anything so beautiful. I suppose you’re used to it.”
“Yes, well, not something one sees every day it is,” the Snork replied, privately acknowledging that his friend was right.
The view was magnificent, more beautiful than anything he could remember seeing.
“Look! I can see Bettnuk! Do you see it? I never thought it was so big. And Bakalia! Look how it shines. It seems the snow didn’t reach that far.”
“Yes, Hanna, I see,” Gunuruk answered, gazing nostalgically toward the places she was pointing out.
“We’ll come back someday. I’m sure of it. Remember, we have to have hope. You told me that yourself,” Hanna added, trying to cheer him up when she noticed the sadness on his face.
“Yes, Hanna, true that is. Someday we shall return. But now we must go.”
He sighed, and they quickly climbed into the cart.
Keeping close to the safety of the inner rock wall, they began moving slowly. The road was barely distinguishable beneath so much snow.
A minute later, they reached the entrance to the passage leading to the southern face of the mountain.
It was a magnificent entrance, almost magical, as though it possessed a life of its own.
Carved into the stone, it was covered with countless details, from simple decorations to elaborate reliefs that seemed to depict its creators settling those lands.
Hanna loved it, and they spent a good while admiring it.
But when the time came to enter, she was considerably less enthusiastic. All she could see inside was an apparently endless darkness.
“You do know where we’re going, don’t you? It isn’t dangerous, is it?” she asked, taking a deep breath and casting one last glance outside.
“Worry you must not. A long passage it is, but safe as well. No danger here,” Gunuruk assured her convincingly, although this was also his first time traveling through it.
“All right. But I can’t see a thing.”
“Stay calm. My eyes can see where yours find only darkness,” he replied firmly.
That brought the conversation to an end.
Hanna looked back, seeking reassurance in the light filtering through the entrance.
But once they had traveled far enough, even that disappeared.
She could not help feeling a little frightened.
Every sound now seemed amplified, and she found comfort only by pressing herself against Gunuruk.
“Calm yourself. Soon we shall be out,” the Snork said, struggling to keep his friend from pushing him off the seat.
And so it was.
After a few minutes that seemed an eternity to Hanna, they finally emerged.
The entrance on this side was very similar to the one they had left behind, and they stopped only briefly to admire it.
But when they passed through the narrow gorge that continued for a short distance beyond the opening, both travelers froze before the majestic sight awaiting them.
If the landscape on the northern side of the mountain had been spectacular, the southern side was even more impressive.
They stood admiring it for several minutes before continuing.
The road was extremely narrow, and Gunuruk decided to climb down and lead the cart by hand.
Snow covered everything here as well.
Although the sun was gradually beginning to melt it, walking beside the cart was the safest way to proceed.
It was also painfully slow.
By midday, they had covered scarcely a few miles.
Hanna offered to take over the difficult task, but Gunuruk refused. Instead, she climbed down and walked beside him to lighten the load.
When the sun had melted most of the snow and Gunuruk finally found a safe place to stop for lunch, they were exhausted.
The rocky mountain stretched in every direction, so barren that they had scarcely passed a single small bush since emerging from the passage.
After giving the Lewiks their share of food, Gunuruk decided to descend the slope in search of firewood.
Despite the sunshine, the cold was terrible.
Hanna was exhausted.
Walking through the snow had proved far more tiring than she had expected. If hunger had not been making her stomach growl, all she would have wanted was somewhere to stretch out and rest.
“Soon I shall return,” Gunuruk told her.
Hanna said nothing.
She took a large blanket and made herself as comfortable as possible.
Gunuruk descended quickly, although at first he found nothing.
No trees, no fallen branches, not even a miserable shrub from which he could gather enough wood for a small fire.
He was almost ready to climb back when, in the distance, behind a large outcrop of rock, he spotted the outline of a small tree.
Little remained of it beyond its trunk and a few battered branches, yet it still endured the harsh conditions of the high mountain with a certain dignity.
Gunuruk hurried toward it.
Glancing back toward where the cart should have been, he realized he might already have descended too far.
They could not afford to waste time.
But when he finally reached the tree, something caught his attention.
At first, he merely gazed at the dense forest spreading across the valley below, stretching all the way to the sea.
Then he noticed something that did not belong in that idyllic landscape.
He gave a sudden leap and rushed behind a rock.
“What is happening?” he whispered anxiously.
A column of smoke was beginning to rise from the coast.
Gunuruk grew terribly nervous.
That region, Édorak, was a wasteland.
Although considered part of the kingdom of Antraka, it had always remained uninhabited because of the inaccessible mountain range surrounding it.
What could possibly be happening there?
At first, the Snork tried to convince himself that lightning might simply have struck part of the dense forest and started a fire.
But the more he considered the explanation, the less convincing it seemed.
His anxiety increased along with the column of smoke, which was now plainly visible.
Even the strong smell of burning began to fill the air.
Gunuruk forgot all about the tree, though he was now close enough to touch it.
He scrambled back up the slope as quickly as he could.
Hanna was eating some cereal cakes. Her hunger had finally overcome her exhaustion.
Seeing her companion return in such a hurry, she approached him.
“What’s wrong, Gunuruk? Where have you been?” she asked in alarm.
“What I sought, I did not find. Quickly we must leave. Strange things I have seen.”
“What did you see? Tell me! What did you see?”
She was growing more anxious by the second.
But she did not have to wait for his answer.
The column of smoke was now visible from where they stood.
“What’s that? Is it them?”
“I do not know, Hanna. But nothing good it is. Quickly we must go.”
Gunuruk gathered the Lewiks, which had been peacefully nibbling at the last patches of snow, and they resumed their journey.
In places, the road narrowed dangerously.
Like a path carved into the edge of a cliff, it ran alongside sheer rock faces, and small stones continually tumbled into the depths below as the cart raced past.
This was certainly not the safest way to travel the final and most treacherous stretch leading toward Antraka’s border.
But neither Hanna nor Gunuruk seemed concerned by the recklessness of their pace.
They kept glancing ahead and behind, expecting someone to appear at any moment.
It was as though they had no means of escape, as though they were desperately trying to flee a trap formed by a road so narrow that even their little cart sometimes seemed too wide to pass.
Gradually, the exhausted Lewik began to slow.
With nowhere safe to stop and exchange it for its equally tired companion, they had no choice but to accept the struggling animal’s pace.
By evening, as darkness spread across everything around them, they finally reached the border of Antraka.
After passing through one last canyon, they found themselves welcomed by an enormous forest.
Hanna did not particularly like the sight of that gloomy place.
The wind stirred the branches, making them creak in a way that sent shivers down her spine.
At least it was open ground where they might finally find somewhere to hide and rest.
After leaving his kingdom behind, Gunuruk cast one last glance back.
A little farther on, he turned off the road and guided the cart into the shelter of the thick undergrowth.
Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.
Yet Lívoka was nothing like peaceful Antraka.
Its forests sheltered ferocious beasts and even sinister creatures.
Gunuruk preferred not to share these details with his friend.
Seeing how frightened she had become merely at the sight of the forest, he suspected that if he told her the stories he knew about the region, she would not sleep a wink.
And they desperately needed rest.
The night passed relatively peacefully.
Its only disturbance came from the continuous, anguished cries of one of the Lewiks.
The poor animal seemed to be dying, undoubtedly injured by the punishing pace they had maintained for much of the day.
Gunuruk soon discovered that its legs were covered with bleeding wounds.
Deeply concerned, he tried to tend to them.
But he feared his efforts might be useless.
The animal seemed condemned to a painful death, while its companion stood watching helplessly, desperately licking its injured body.
Hanna also realized what was happening.
Yet her exhaustion proved stronger than almost everything else.
That night, neither her fear of the forest nor the Lewik’s piercing cries prevented her from falling into the sleep she so desperately needed.
The following morning, Hanna was the first to wake.
It was still dark.
A nightmare had startled her, and she sprang upright.
Gunuruk was dozing peacefully.
He had spent most of the night trying to treat the injured animal, which now lay on the ground, breathing heavily.
Overcome by exhaustion, the Snork had curled up beside it.
As daylight spread through the forest, he too began to stir.
Until then, Hanna had been unable to see the full extent of the poor creature’s injuries.
But when the morning light finally revealed its condition, she could not hold back her tears.
It was a terrible sight.
“What are we going to do with him?” she asked Gunuruk, who was still half asleep and gazing at the animal in despair.
“I do not know, Hanna. I do not know. We must go.”
“Maybe he can get up and walk a little. We’ll go slowly until he recovers!”
Even as she spoke, she knew how unlikely that was.
She tried in vain to encourage the Lewik to stand.
“Badly wounded he is. Reckless we were. The hard rock his legs could not bear. This he did not deserve.”
Gunuruk spoke with terrible guilt, unable to take his eyes off the bloodied animal.
“We’ll wait a little longer. We’re safe here. They won’t be able to find us.”
“All right. We shall wait. Eat something, and then we shall think,” the Snork replied, trying to respect his friend’s wishes.
But it was a difficult decision.
Gunuruk knew that the animal’s condition would soon attract other beasts.
By then, it might be too late.
And indeed, after they had eaten a little, while Gunuruk was preparing the other Lewik to pull the cart, what he had feared all morning came to pass.
Something was circling overhead.
Gunuruk noticed it and, terrified, urged Hanna to climb into the cart.
She resisted at first, but reluctantly obeyed, keeping her eyes fixed on the sky.
“It’s only a vulture,” she said, looking up at the winged silhouette circling high above them. “They can be a little dangerous, but there’s only one. I’m sure we can scare it away.”
She remembered her visits to the zoo, where she had seen birds like that before.
“Hold on, Hanna!” Gunuruk shouted, striking the Lewik to get them moving.
But before he had finished speaking, the creature that had been soaring overhead plunged toward the ground as though it had already chosen its prey.
As it descended, Hanna realized it was nothing like the animal she had imagined.
It landed heavily on the dying Lewik and began tearing it apart, devouring it with a ferocity unlike anything she had ever witnessed.
“What is that?” she cried, trembling as they raced away.
“A Wiark it is! Do not look! Dangerous it is. I knew this would happen. Creatures roam these lands. Quickly we must flee!”
Gunuruk guided the cart through the dense forest at breakneck speed, weaving between tree trunks, branches, and the countless bushes blocking their path.
Hanna was terrified.
She could hardly comprehend what she had just witnessed.
Gunuruk, however, knew the creature.
He had seen several of them on Tover, held captive by force.
It was not merely a beast.
It was something worse: a dangerous creature.
Wiarks were close relatives of the Tuarks, and although they were no larger than a human, that did not prevent them from being among the most dangerous predators inhabiting the forest.
With scales as hard as steel, razor-sharp claws, and powerful teeth, they were certainly not creatures anyone would wish to encounter.
Yet, cruel as it was to acknowledge, the Wiark had now filled its belly.
If they traveled far enough, it would soon cease to pose a threat.
Gunuruk explained all this to Hanna.
But she could not rid herself of the dreadful image, or the fear that the same thing might happen to them.
When they returned to the road, the journey continued without further incident.
The dense forest surrounded them in every direction.
Hanna could not forget the Lewik’s terrible end as she watched its companion pulling the cart, apparently unaware of what had happened.
“This forest seems like a very dangerous place.”
“Yes, Hanna. Many animals inhabit these lands. Now beasts and creatures we must avoid as well. But remain calm. If Ynack’s advice we follow, no trouble there will be.”
“But what if we run into one?”
“That you must not think about. If quickly we travel, no more than three moons shall we spend here. After that, peaceful the road will be.”
Gunuruk’s words did little to reassure her.
Hanna feared those three days would seem endless.
Since dawn, she had lived in a state of constant anxiety, perhaps even greater than the day before, when she had believed their capture was inevitable.
She remembered something Miss Hings, her science teacher, used to say:
“Nature is neither cruel nor brutal. It is simply relentless. What means death for one creature means life for another, and that is how it must be…”
They were simple words, but so sincere and true that they now filled Hanna with a terrible sense of vulnerability.
Here, they were merely three animals caught in the struggle for survival.
And she certainly did not relish the thought of becoming someone’s delicious lunch.
Despite everything, the journey went reasonably well.
Two days later, they had almost made it out of the forests of Lívoka.
Hanna had been unable to sleep at night, hearing noises all around her.
But between uncomfortable naps as they traveled along the trail, time passed relatively quickly.
She had managed to make herself an occasional bed inside the cart, squeezed among the luggage with blankets serving as a mattress.
There she tried to recover the sleep that eluded her during the endless hours of darkness.
The road was in good condition, and they were making steady progress.
They stopped frequently, taking advantage of any clearing they encountered.
While the Lewik rested, the two friends would wander nearby, gathering some of the many fruits growing on the bushes and trees and, whenever the opportunity arose, watching the wildlife passing through the forest.
Only once did Gunuruk become truly frightened, forcing them both to hurry away.
A charming herd of Barikús, animals resembling deer, had crossed the path ahead of them.
They were harmless, but the moment Gunuruk saw them, he warned Hanna:
“Many beasts hunt Barikús. Away from their herds we must stay, lest for one of them we be mistaken.”
His reasoning seemed perfectly sensible to Hanna, and they continued their journey.
The third day also passed without incident.
As night began to fall, Gunuruk decided it was time to stop.
Hanna, however, was curled up in her usual place inside the cart, enjoying a peaceful sleep.
Thinking that she would be unable to sleep again if she woke and discovered that darkness had fallen, he decided to postpone their stop until she awakened on her own.
She seemed determined to remain asleep, unaware that the enormous moon and stars were already shining in the night sky.
Then something suddenly alarmed the Snork.
He stopped abruptly.
The jolt woke Hanna.
Confused by the darkness that seemed to have arrived without warning, she sat up on her knees inside the cart.
“Shhh! Silence!” Gunuruk whispered, warning her not to make a sound.
“What’s wrong?” she asked cautiously.
She could neither see nor hear anything unusual.
“I can sense a light. Strange it is. Better we leave the road.”
Following his own advice, he slowly guided the cart into the forest.
“I can’t see anything, Gunuruk. Are you sure?” Hanna asked again.
To her, the night seemed no different from any other.
“Shhh! Make no noise,” he repeated, this time in an extremely cautious whisper.
He motioned for her to lie down again.
“Someone is there. Avoid them we must. Do not move. Hide beneath the blanket.”
As they advanced, Gunuruk’s suspicions were confirmed.
But he had never imagined they would encounter something so terrible.
In a small clearing beside the crossroads where they were supposed to turn toward Ákador, half a dozen Bábagos were laughing and drinking around a campfire.
Gunuruk decided to move a little closer to hear what they were saying.
Their situation was dangerous.
They could not turn back, but neither could they continue without being discovered.
“Damned Ikai! Who does he think he is, leaving us in the middle of this stinking forest? What does he expect us to guard? The trees? Who in the world is going to come through here?” one of them complained in a harsh, unpleasant voice.
“Stop whining. Would you rather be fighting the Kinorios in Bogotra? Enjoy the food and drink while you can. Swallow it down and keep your eyes open. He’ll be here soon. If he hears you, you won’t have anything left to worry about,” replied another, who appeared to be the leader of the group.
Gunuruk listened so nervously that his heart seemed ready to burst from his chest.
With one hand, he urged Hanna not to move a muscle.
The Bábagos were detestable beings.
Horrible to look at, their skin seemed to have been sculpted by fire.
They were wicked and cruel, utterly indifferent to the lives of other creatures.
Above all, they were greedy—so greedy that they would do almost anything for a gold coin.
Their homeland was Órdoka, the true cradle of evil, at the foot of the great volcano Issuk.
Fed for generations by its sulfurous fumes, their species had degenerated into truly sinister beings.
“Got you, damned Snork!”
The powerful, vicious voice came suddenly from a bush a few steps beyond their hiding place.
A Bábago burst from the foliage and leaped onto the cart’s seat.
These creatures were extraordinarily fast.
“Where did you think you were going, you filthy beast?”
He brandished a rusty knife, still bearing small scraps of rotting matter, and thrust it threateningly against Gunuruk’s neck.
The terrified Snork was unable even to react.
But the moment lasted only an instant.
Hanna shot her long arm out from beneath the blanket and struck the startled Bábago with the kettle.
The blow was so forceful that he had no idea where it had come from.
Nearly frightened to death, Gunuruk lashed the Lewik, and the runaway cart charged through the undergrowth, crushing everything in its path.
“Catch him! Don’t let him escape!” the hideous creature shouted furiously to his companions.
With the violent jolting of their escape, Gunuruk lost hold of the reins.
As though it could not possibly have chosen a worse direction, the Lewik headed straight toward the other startled creatures.
“Whatever happens, do not move. They must not see you. Do not move! Promise me you will not move!” Gunuruk insisted, turning toward Hanna, whose frightened face was peering through a small opening in the blanket.
The cart reached the camp moments later.
It was moving so fast that it nearly passed straight through the fire.
It ran over one of the Bábagos and scattered everything in the little encampment.
When they finally managed to stop it a few yards farther on, the creatures surrounded them.
Only the one who had first discovered them remained behind, running to catch up, while another sat on the ground complaining about his injured leg.
“Filthy, disgusting Snork! Look what you’ve done!” one snarled, pointing at the destruction the cart had caused as it passed through their camp.
“I did not mean to. Frightened I was. The cart would not stop. My apologies I offer,” Gunuruk replied as they shook him roughly.
“Apologies? You think we want your apologies? We’ll tear out your guts and make you swallow them!” another threatened, drawing a machete.
“Yes, yes! That’s what we’ll do. Then we’ll roast you like a juicy Barikú. I’ve never tasted Snork before, but you look like delicious meat,” the first added, pawing at Gunuruk and licking his lips as he drooled.
Suddenly, the Bábago who had been running toward them arrived.
Without a word, he struck Gunuruk violently with the hilt of his sword and climbed back onto the cart’s seat.
“How dare you! Do you value your life so little? I’ll teach you to respect me!”
He continued beating the Snork.
Hanna remained motionless.
At first she had been terrified.
But now anger was coursing through her veins.
They’re not that big, she thought.
Through a small opening in the blanket, she could see the dagger protruding from the bag, only a short distance from her hand.
“Let’s finish this! I’ll enjoy cutting this idiot open. Let’s do it now, before the Ikai comes back. The Snorks seem to be his allies these days. We’ll tear him apart and throw the pieces into the forest for the Boloks to eat. The Ikai will never know.”
The speaker was the Bábago the cart had run over.
Unfortunately, he was also the leader.
He approached with a limp, angrily clashing his knives together.
“Wait! Coins I have! For my life I can pay!” Gunuruk pleaded in one last attempt to persuade them to let him go.
For several seconds, the creatures exchanged glances.
Gunuruk thought his idea had worked.
After all, these beings were notoriously greedy.
But a moment later, they burst into laughter.
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
Their voices rose together in a chilling chorus.
“You’ll pay with your life!” the leader snarled, still brandishing his weapons as he advanced toward Gunuruk.
The Snork stared at him without a trace of hope remaining.
Suddenly, two Bábagos climbed onto the cart to seize him.
Hanna could bear no more.
She sprang from her hiding place, startling everyone, including Gunuruk.
“Pick on someone your own size!” she shouted furiously.
She immediately delivered a tremendous kick to one of them.
The creature fell from the cart and scrambled back toward his companions.
The other, seeing Hanna towering more than a head above him and glaring with rage, threw himself off the cart.
The Bábagos gathered together in confusion, baring their sharp teeth, gripping their weapons, and growling incessantly.
“Do you think I’m afraid of you?” Hanna shouted.
She leaped down from the cart, dagger in hand.
“Do you really think you scare me?”
She glanced at Gunuruk.
His face was covered in blood.
“I’ll gut you! I’ll cut you to pieces! And then I’ll roast you! I’ll do it!”
She continued shouting without the slightest sign of fear.
The tension was unbearable.
The Bábagos remained grouped together, growing more aggressive by the moment, yet retreating little by little as Hanna advanced.
They were astonished by the young woman’s courage.
And they were beginning to wonder, with genuine concern, whether she might be such a formidable warrior that she could defeat seven enraged Bábagos with her little weapon.
Gunuruk, however, watched the scene in horror.
Until that moment, he had not dared utter a word.
He knew that if the creatures attacked his friend, she would stand no chance.
Then, suddenly, another idea occurred to him.
He grabbed the bag of jewels, plunged his hand inside, and pulled out a handful.
He threw them straight toward the Bábagos.
The creatures reacted immediately.
As though Hanna had ceased to exist and only the coins and jewels scattered across the ground mattered, they lunged after the treasure.
“That coin is mine!”
“No, mine! I saw it first!”
They fought among themselves, rolling on the ground and greedily gathering everything they could reach.
“Hanna! Quickly, climb aboard! We must go!”
“Yes, Gunuruk!”
She ran toward the cart.
But just as they were preparing to leave, one of the Bábagos who had been watching the bag of jewels rushed toward them.
Two others followed.
All three threw themselves at the bag.
The cart was already moving.
Gunuruk was doing everything he could to control the Lewik, which was beginning to gather speed, while preventing the greedy creatures from stealing their treasure.
Hanna struck at them, dodging their dangerous teeth and struggling to hold on to the bag.
For a few moments, the rest of the Bábagos nearly managed to catch up with the cart as well.
Then, under the force of so many hands pulling at it, the bag finally gave way.
It split open from end to end, scattering its contents everywhere.
At once, the Bábagos lost all interest in Hanna and Gunuruk.
And at last, the two friends escaped from what might otherwise have been a tragic end.