CHAPTER XIII
The days passed in absolute peace. At first, all they cared about was eating and resting. Gradually, those simple pleasures became their daily routine. It was as though their journey had been put on hold, and during the first week they scarcely spoke of it, as if neither wanted to return to reality and both wished only to enjoy the gift that this lush haven had become.
Perhaps their behavior was a consequence of the state of mind in which they had arrived. But much as they resisted it, clarity slowly returned to their thoughts. Then one morning, as though the anxieties of their journey had suddenly come rushing back, Gunuruk woke Hanna with the first rays of sunlight.
“We must leave,” he said, sounding rather sad.
His friend looked at him and knew that their stay had come to an end. A desolate feeling swept over her. Even so, Hanna understood that they had been avoiding this decision for far too long, perhaps longer than they should have.
“All right. It’s been wonderful living here for a while. I’ve almost managed to forget all our problems. But don’t worry. Our journey has been waiting for us long enough. Every morning I’ve dreaded the thought of leaving, and every day we’ve stayed, I’ve enjoyed as though it were our last. I won’t forget this place easily!”
As she spoke, Hanna reached out to touch Gunuruk, sensing that he shared her feelings.
Gunuruk took out his map and studied it carefully. Annoyed by his limited sense of direction, he muttered a few unflattering words at it. Then he turned toward the river and stood thinking for a moment.
“Kamuk, this river seems to be. Follow it, we must. Back to the road to Ákador, it should lead us. Certain I am not, but much farther it cannot be. Food we must gather, then quickly leave.”
“All right, Gunuruk,” she replied confidently, for she now seemed to have accepted their departure with renewed enthusiasm.
And so they did. After gathering provisions, they set off. They climbed the small slope to the river’s mouth, beside the little waterfall, and looked back one last time at the idyllic landscape before hurrying away.
The Lewik had scarcely stopped eating since their arrival and seemed almost to have doubled in weight. At first, it struggled to settle back into the rhythm of travel, but before long it tackled its task with tremendous energy, as though eager to make up for lost time.
As Gunuruk had predicted, their route followed the riverbank. They traveled without incident until night fell beneath the great moon.
When they stopped, the Snork seemed rather nervous. The river twisted through enormous meanders, considerably lengthening the distance they had to travel.
“What’s wrong, Gunuruk?” Hanna asked.
“Nothing serious. A troublesome river this seems to be, winding like a snake to torment us. A tiring road it makes. Far we travel, but little ground we gain. Eastward again, we seem to be going. Perhaps better to enter the forest and head west.”
“I don’t know, Gunuruk. You’re the only one who can figure that out,” Hanna said encouragingly.
She had no sense of direction herself, although she could not help remembering, with some unease, the consequences of his last decision.
“Tonight I will think. Do not worry. Tomorrow we shall decide,” he said calmly.
The following morning, a fog so dense covered the landscape that not even Gunuruk could see more than a few yards ahead. They agreed to remain beside the safety of the river until the mist lifted. Then they would venture into the forest and head west in search of the road to Ákador.
Shortly after noon, the sun finally penetrated the thick fog. Within minutes it vanished, revealing surroundings very different from anything they had expected.
Before them stretched an enormous expanse of marshland into which they had gradually wandered. Gunuruk grew uneasy.
“No, no, no. What is happening here?” he muttered, taking another look at the map. “These marshes I do not like. Out of here we must get.”
“Where are we? Is it dangerous?” Hanna asked.
Gunuruk considered the question for a moment.
“Marshes are home to many creatures. Poison many of them carry. Ynack says they are not good places. Many dangers there are, but the greatest is the mud. Hungry it is. Step into its mouth, and it will swallow you.”
Hanna glanced nervously around her.
At first sight, the landscape appeared peaceful. Not a sound disturbed the stillness. Yet thick vapor rose from the stagnant waters, as though they were boiling, even though the air was cold and exceedingly damp.
“What are we going to do, then?”
“Carefully, we must leave. Only the beginning of the marshes this is. Do not worry.”
Gunuruk examined the map again.
“Now I know where we are. This map is no use. For a long time, no use it has been,” he continued.
He crumpled the worn sheet of paper and threw it angrily into a small pool, where it slowly sank.
“Where will we go now?”
“Across these marshes we must travel. Carefully, heading west. Certain I am that long it will not take. A long road was the one we left behind, and wrong we have been all along. The lake we traveled around was not the one I thought. Not Imurum. The Sweet Sea it is called, and south of it lies Kalam.”
He sighed, as though only now realizing how narrowly they had escaped certain death.
“Very lucky we have been, Hanna. Few are those whom Kalam lets go. A harsh desert it is. Deadly. Once great forests covered it, but the Nárakos destroyed them. Nothing remains. Cursed, Kalam is said to be, angry with those who destroyed everything that once filled it with life.”
Gunuruk smiled at his friend.
“Without knowing it, something we have done that very few have managed.”
Hanna listened carefully, although nothing he said surprised her. She certainly had not forgotten the place that had nearly claimed their lives only days before.
“So will it take us much longer to get there?”
“No. Very close we are now. These are the Marshes of Fadias, as vast as those of Kettke, though more dangerous.”
Suddenly, something emerged from the water, weaving across the surface with only the upper part of its back showing.
Hanna recoiled. Whatever it was, it looked enormous, and she could not stop herself from letting out a piercing scream that startled Gunuruk as well.
“What was that?” she asked, staring at the marsh, which had already returned to complete stillness.
“I do not know, Hanna. Many creatures live here, most of them in the water. We must go,” Gunuruk answered, visibly agitated as he looked around.
They set the wagon moving again and slowly began making their way out, carefully watching where they placed their feet.
They had been traveling for barely an hour when a tremendous noise broke the silence. The crowns of the few trees nearby shook as though something enormous were thrashing among them. Then more sounds filled the marsh, like great, thunderous splashes rising from its depths.
The hair on Hanna’s arms stood on end.
She looked at Gunuruk and saw that he was calm, though alert and intensely focused, as if trying to listen more carefully to whatever had disturbed the peace.
“What are those noises?”
Gunuruk smiled.
“Do not worry, Hanna. Certain I am that today you will meet something you have never seen before.”
Hanna was intrigued as the wagon continued toward the source of the sounds.
“Hello!” Gunuruk shouted.
The noises stopped at once, making Hanna even more nervous.
Then they heard footsteps approaching. But these were no ordinary footsteps. They were so heavy that the ground seemed to suffer beneath every step.
“Who’s there?” boomed a deep, powerful voice from beyond the trees, seeming to come from somewhere near their tops.
Hanna was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. The sounds sent shivers through her, and she could scarcely imagine what kind of creature could be responsible for such an extraordinary commotion.
Suddenly, two enormous hands appeared between the trees. Pushing them aside as though they were nothing more than tall grass, a gigantic being emerged.
Hanna nearly fell from the wagon, unable to believe what she was seeing.
“Look, Hanna. A marsh giant it is,” Gunuruk murmured.
She was speechless, almost breathless, frozen as she watched the colossal mass of muscle, covered in mud from head to toe, approach them.
“Are you two deaf? Who are you?” the giant shouted, sounding somewhat annoyed.
Gunuruk hurried to answer.
“Do not be angry. A Snork I am, from Antraka. And this is my friend, a human, from…”
Gunuruk hesitated.
“…from Bettnuk. Hanna is her name, and Gunuruk is mine.”
“Antraka, Bettnuk… Those are distant places. What are you doing here? This is no place to get lost.”
“A long story that is. We are going to Ákador…”
“Ákador? Then you’re certainly a little lost. You’ll have to head farther north, but not too far. The coast will stop you from going any farther. Cross this forest and you’ll soon be there. But come along. I’ll introduce you to my brother,” the giant said kindly.
Despite his rough appearance, he seemed quite hospitable.
As they traveled beside him, Hanna said nothing. She remained absorbed by the enormous size and weight of the being they had just encountered. She moved only when the wagon jolted with each of the giant’s footsteps.
He said nothing more until they entered a small wooded area beside the marsh.
Marsh giants were spectacular creatures, as tall as five or six people and almost as heavy as a Tuark. They were extraordinarily muscular, although they usually sported enormous bellies, and there was no doubt that they had great hearts.
They inhabited nearly every marsh in the Known World and, fortunately for Hanna and Gunuruk, had always defended those who sought peace.
They were not to be confused with the giants of Órdoka, dangerous, bloodthirsty carrion eaters with a taste for human flesh. The marsh giants hated them, just as they hated the Bábagos.
In fact, there was nothing in the world they hated more than the Bábagos.
Well, perhaps there was one thing: the sea.
They detested sailing. Whenever they had no choice but to travel by water, some were simply incapable of boarding a ship. But if they were heading into battle and Bábagos were involved, nearly all of them would do whatever they could to get there.
Once they were back in the marsh, the giant silently scooped up a handful of mud large enough to almost fill the wagon and began spreading it over his entire body.
“But tell me, how did you end up here if you’ve come from Antraka?” he asked in his deep, rumbling voice, which Hanna still had not grown accustomed to hearing.
“Well… through Lívoka we traveled. But before the road to Ákador we could take, at the crossroads we had to flee, heading north. Around Lake Imurum we wanted to go, but by mistake around the Sweet Sea we traveled instead. Nearly we died in Kalam, but alive we came out, and now here we are,” Gunuruk answered proudly.
“Well! You’re certainly two brave souls. Kalam! It was once a great forest, you know. But after the First Great War, following the rising of Sium, its kingdom was lost forever. The Níbulas and Delfos who lived there cursed the land, turning it into what it is today. Such a shame. They say the finest marshes in the Known World were once found there…”
He paused thoughtfully.
“But tell me, what were you running from?” he asked with renewed curiosity.
“Well… Bad news I carry. Darkness has reached Antraka. Already they are there. Before they arrived, we managed to leave, bound for Belonia on an important mission. But Bábagos crossed our path, and our journey they delayed greatly.”
“BÁBAGOS!” the giant roared.
“Those damned, stinking creatures! Filthy beasts! Repulsive monsters! If only they’d crossed my path!”
In a fit of rage, the giant clenched his fist and struck a large tree with such force that it split in two and crashed to the ground with a terrible crack.
Hanna, Gunuruk, and even the Lewik were badly startled.
Coming to his senses, the giant knelt and apologized.
“Forgive me. I just can’t help myself. The mere thought of those creatures prowling around here makes my blood boil like the great volcano of Drokar.”
“N-n-nothing wrong,” Gunuruk replied in a trembling voice.
Once again, noises just as loud and disruptive as before began rising from the marsh.
Suddenly, as though an enormous boulder had been thrown into the water, a powerful voice rang out.
“Got her! Drolo, I’ve got her! Come here! You won’t get away! I can almost taste your flesh already. Bite all you like, you cunning Dívora. Soon I’ll be the one sinking my teeth into you!”
Until that moment, Hanna and Gunuruk had not realized that another giant was in the marsh.
He looked identical to the one they had already met. In his hands he held something resembling an eel or a snake, almost as long as he was tall. Yet he showed no fear of it, not even when it tried to bite him.
“Come here, Krulo! We have visitors. Two brave youngsters who’ve come all the way from distant Antraka!”
Krulo, as the second giant was apparently called, waded out of the marsh.
When he reached the trees, he began striking the Dívora against one trunk after another until it stopped moving.
Then, while he was still a considerable distance away, he hurled it toward the other giant.
The Dívora slid rapidly across the ground, its sharp teeth pointing straight toward the wagon. Just before it struck them, Drolo, as their first acquaintance was called, stopped it with his enormous foot, which looked more like a great paw.
Even so, the Lewik leaped in fright, and Hanna and Gunuruk tumbled from the wagon, equally terrified.
“What are you doing, you fool? Didn’t you hear that I have company?”
“Are you calling your own brother a fool? Aren’t you pleased to have that delicious Dívora lying at your feet? You’re even crazier than I thought!”
“Who are you calling crazy?” Drolo roared furiously, charging toward his brother.
The Dívora remained on the ground. It appeared dead, but suddenly it began twitching slightly, as though suffering spasms. Then it made strange noises and bared its teeth menacingly.
“Let’s get out of here!” Hanna cried in terror, speaking for the first time since meeting the giants.
Gunuruk nodded. They scrambled back into the wagon and hurried away before the Dívora could recover from the beating it had received.
At first, they headed toward the giants, intending to say goodbye. But before they could reach them, Drolo and Krulo became embroiled in a thunderous fight.
They knocked down trees as they went, hurled handfuls of mud that splattered everywhere, grappled with each other, and rolled across the ground, creating a commotion comparable only to an earthquake.
Seeing the spectacle, Gunuruk turned around and continued toward Ákador.
He knew that if there was one thing giants loved, apart from marshes, mud, and the creatures that lived in them, it was arguing and fighting.
They could spend days brawling over the smallest disagreement, without eating, drinking, talking, or seemingly even breathing. They would simply punch, wrestle, and roll around, paying no attention to anything they crushed along the way.
Then, when they had finally had enough, they would stop and resume whatever they had been doing before, as though nothing had happened.
Without wasting another moment, Hanna and Gunuruk left the marshes, crossed a small meadow covered in green grass, and entered the forest.
Gunuruk was happy. He felt that they would soon reach their next destination.
They stopped briefly, and the Snork entertained his attentive friend with a few stories about giants. But night came quickly, and Hanna sensed that her sleep would not be as peaceful as it had been during the previous days.
She did not know why, but the powerful noises rising once more from deep within the forest made her heart pound. She barely slept at all.
The next morning, they continued their journey.
Hanna was exhausted. Having grown accustomed to the restorative sleep of recent nights, she had endured hours of miserable wakefulness before dawn finally arrived.
Gunuruk quickly noticed her condition.
He had managed to sleep through the entire night, perhaps even longer than was usual for his kind. So when they set off, he invited Hanna to rest in the little wagon, as she had done on earlier occasions.
At first, she refused. She felt that rather than being of any help, she had been a burden her friend had been forced to carry throughout their journey.
But after nodding off a couple of times and nearly falling to the ground, she finally took the Snork’s advice.
Gunuruk was in excellent spirits. Following Drolo’s directions, he was certain they had taken the right route.
He felt a little annoyed at the thought that, had they gone this way from the beginning, they might already have reached Ákador.
Still, it did not trouble him greatly. They might just as easily have continued following the winding river, and that would have been a real problem.
Whatever the case, the wagon advanced through the forest.
There was no marked trail, but the absence of thick undergrowth, together with a gentle downward slope, allowed them to travel at a fairly good pace.
Eventually Hanna woke and sat beside her friend, offering him a juicy piece of fruit.
“What are we going to do when we reach Ákador?” she asked.
It was a question she had not even considered until that moment.
“A coastal village it is. We must find a fisherman. To Belonia he will take us. There they should be waiting,” Gunuruk replied as he satisfied his appetite, remembering that without the jewels, arranging passage would not be easy.
“And what about them? Don’t you think they’ll be there?”
“A difficult question that is. Ákador was once a warrior kingdom, but now a simple village it is. Nothing of interest to them there is. Probably they will not be there. Great ships can run aground upon its rocky shore; a coast reserved only for small vessels it is. But careful we must be.”
Hanna felt somewhat reassured, although the feeling did not last.
By midafternoon, sunlight began filtering through the trees in an unusual way, as though the forest were coming to an end.
And indeed, a few minutes later, the trees gave way to a vast plain.
The plain lay below a hillside, and at its center they could make out a small pond. Grass grew across the entire expanse to an astonishing height, and numerous animals grazed there.
Hanna loved the sight. It seemed to radiate a profound sense of peace.
Gunuruk, however, was far less pleased.
He climbed down from the wagon and tried to find another route that would allow them to avoid crossing the plain.
To the south, a small rocky ridge would soon block their way. To the north, the forest ended at high cliffs that they might not be able to descend.
The Snork reluctantly accepted that crossing the plain was their only practical option.
“This I do not like, Hanna. Not at all,” Gunuruk said anxiously.
She looked at him in surprise.
To her, the stretch of land below seemed perfect. Descending the slope might prove a little difficult, but after that the route would be clear of obstacles and they could advance quickly.
“It’s perfect, Gunuruk. We’ll make good time down there. Besides, you can see where the plain ends,” Hanna said, pointing toward some trees barely visible in the distance.
“Yes, Hanna, I see them. Perhaps right you are. Surely that is already the forest of Ákador. Soon we shall know,” Gunuruk replied, recovering some of his optimism.
They could not be very far from their destination now.
After carefully descending the hillside, a task that took longer than either had expected, they finally reached the green plain.
The disturbance of their descent had startled several birds, which began squawking and circling in alarm. But they soon settled back into their places around the pond.
Gunuruk remained extremely tense, and before long his uneasiness began affecting Hanna, who had initially been enjoying the journey in a relaxed and cheerful mood.
“What’s wrong, Gunuruk? Is something happening?” she asked worriedly.
“This place is not safe. Quickly we must leave. Never should we have entered,” he answered, looking from side to side.
“Everything’s quiet. Nothing’s happening. If there were some beast or creature nearby, the birds would warn us. Don’t you think?” she continued, trying to calm her companion.
“I do not like it. This silence I do not like,” Gunuruk replied, urging the Lewik onward with the reins, even though the animal was already moving at a rapid pace.
Hanna paid little attention to his concern, which was unusual for her.
After everything they had been through, she would normally have been just as nervous as her friend.
Yet she liked this place.
She did not know why, but she liked it.
Then, suddenly, as they drew level with the small pond, something made her shudder.
Glancing behind them, she saw something descending the hillside.
It was too far away for her to make out clearly, but a chill ran through her entire body.
There were definitely two fast-moving animals. Yet now she could not even identify the exact place where they had appeared.
“I saw something over there!” she cried, turning and pointing toward a broad section of the slope.
“What did you see, Hanna?” Gunuruk asked, fearing that his worst suspicions were about to be confirmed.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t see them properly. Two big animals. They were moving very fast.”
“Boloks!” Gunuruk exclaimed in terror, lashing the Lewik’s back with the reins.
Both began breathing rapidly.
Horrified, they kept looking behind them, struggling to maintain their balance as the wagon rocked violently from side to side.
It was difficult to see anything through the tall vegetation, but the grass seemed to be moving everywhere around them.
That made matters worse. It felt as though something might be stalking them from any direction.
Then the silence became almost absolute.
Only the breeze brushing against the grass could be heard, a faint whisper across the plain.
Suddenly, birds began fluttering about, warning that something was wrong.
But this time it was nothing like the disturbance caused by Hanna and Gunuruk’s arrival.
Fear spread across the entire plain. Other animals began communicating their panic through frantic galloping and terrible bellows.
Then they heard the pounding hooves of a group of frightened quadrupeds approaching rapidly from behind the wagon.
They could do nothing but hold their breath, expecting the worst.
All at once, the tall grass bent beneath the relentless charge of the animals.
“They’re only Barikús!” Hanna exclaimed, releasing some of her tension as the swift creatures overtook them on both sides.
But before the Barikús disappeared ahead, Hanna and Gunuruk saw something racing along the flattened trail the terrified animals had left behind.
Hanna froze.
It was an enormous beast, advancing with astonishing agility and gaining ground by the second.
Its fangs were grotesquely oversized, and its grayish fur stood stiff and bristling. Together with eyes as red as blood, these features gave it a terrifying, savage appearance.
Hanna began screaming in panic, striking Gunuruk and urging him to make the wagon go faster.
But there was little he could do. The Lewik was undoubtedly running as fast as it could.
Then, when the Bolok was only a few yards away, it slowed down.
Hanna felt a surge of hope.
She remembered the animal films Miss Hings sometimes showed them, in which lions abandoned a chase when they could not catch their prey quickly enough.
But her relief was short-lived.
Something suddenly made them forget the Bolok pursuing them.
Another of the beasts burst from the grass beside the wagon.
With a ferocious leap, its sharp claws extended, it lunged toward them and nearly caught Gunuruk.
Its powerful claws dug savagely into the seat, only inches from the Snork.
Startled by the sudden attack, Hanna let out a piercing scream.
The beast refused to release its prey. It seemed to be slowing the wagon as it struggled to climb aboard, its hungry gaze fixed on Gunuruk.
The Snork dropped the reins, which were of little use now, and with all his strength drove his dagger into the Bolok’s enormous paw.
The creature reacted instantly.
Releasing its grip, it tumbled to the ground.
“Where’s the other one?” Hanna shouted in confusion.
She did not have to wait long for an answer.
The vicious animal appeared again from the side, level with the Lewik, and launched a spectacular attack.
With one tremendous leap, it landed directly on the unfortunate animal, sending the wagon flying through the air.
Hanna and Gunuruk were thrown clear as well.
Neither knew where the other had landed.
Bruised and aching, they struggled to their feet and began calling to each other as they fled, running desperately through the tall grass.
Their only guide was the sun, now beginning to disappear behind the forest that rose ahead of them.
Powerful roars sounded nearby, accompanied by the agonized, bloodcurdling cries of the Lewik, which was probably still alive as the beasts began devouring it.
At last, Hanna and Gunuruk found each other.
“Run, Hanna! Run!” Gunuruk cried in terror.
He held his dagger defensively, thinking that the poor Lewik would not be enough to satisfy the ravenous appetites of the two insatiable beasts.
Hanna struggled to keep up with her companion.
Following his rapidly moving backside, she finally reached the forest alongside him.
The roars continued.
They were every bit as terrifying as when the travelers had first heard them, but the thought that both bloodthirsty Boloks were still occupied with their feast brought a little relief.
Although night had almost fallen, neither wanted to stop and rest.
They continued for another couple of hours, their pace gradually slowing until they could scarcely breathe.
“Wait, Gunuruk,” Hanna said weakly, her words broken by gasps as she bent forward, struggling to draw enough air into her lungs.
The Snork stopped immediately.
He was just as exhausted as his friend and welcomed the chance to recover.
Neither spoke.
For several minutes, only their heavy breathing disturbed the silence.
Then they began walking again, slowly.
Hanna’s legs felt as though they might give way, but stopping made no sense.
Their brief rest had allowed them to catch their breath, yet it had also given them time to think about everything they had lost.
Everything, including their Lewik, which had met an especially horrifying end.
Neither could drive the events of that afternoon from their thoughts, although even grieving required an effort they could no longer afford.
They felt terribly alone in that place.
And what filled them now was no longer simply fear.
They were following a path, trying to reach a destination, but deep inside they were so lost that nothing seemed to make sense.
Only a few minutes later, a glow appeared above the treetops, which were becoming fewer and farther apart.
Finally, with only a handful of low bushes ahead of them, they saw the coast.
It was a beautiful place, dotted with little houses along the shoreline and illuminated by a great moon.
Under other circumstances, the sight would surely have filled them with joy.
But neither said a word.
Perhaps there was nothing to say.
There was little doubt that the place visible in the distance was Ákador.
Yet all they felt was relief, as though they had finally arrived.
Nothing more.
They had made it.
At least they had made it.
Viewed coldly, that was what mattered. Everything else had merely been a means of reaching their destination.
But both knew that luck had played its part.
They, too, might have ended like their devoted Lewiks.
Only the nearness of their destination gave them the strength to walk a little farther.
When they finally came upon the broad road they had been forced to abandon, they decided to spend the night beside it.
It was the safest place.
They settled down behind some large bushes.
“Well, I suppose we’ve made it,” Hanna said, her eyes filling with tears.
“Yes. This is Ákador,” Gunuruk replied briefly, barely looking at his friend.
Then they rested in silence.
Neither spoke another word that night.
And at last, utterly exhausted, they surrendered to their overwhelming fatigue.