Immortal

by T Nisbet

One of the Plainsmen held my reins and we took off on a nightmarish scramble over the plains away from the fire. Somehow I was able to stay in the saddle blindfolded, as my horse cantered across the plain. I admit though, that I held onto the saddle horn the entire way. Fortunately, they let me get my own horse before they put the blindfold on, so the stirrups were the right length and helped carry some of my weight. It gave me the extra balance I needed to stay atop my horse.

  Subjected to near total darkness my other senses clicked into overdrive. The acrid smell of pungent smoke grew stronger, burning my throat and lungs, making me cough violently. The sound of men coughing and crying out to urge their mounts to greater speed mixed in with the loud crashing of horses and ponies plowing through the high grasses. My horse kicked into a gallop. Suddenly I heard loud popping and crackling noises, close by on my right. An unbearably intense heat assaulted me from the side. It was all I could do not to rip the blindfold away, but I had no doubt that had I done so, Durmack’s men would have killed me before I had a chance to defend myself.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t take the heat a moment longer without actually catching fire, it started to fade. I heard a pony scream over the top of all the noise behind me. It was followed closely by the howl of a man in mortal agony. I heard the twang of a bowstring, and the cries of suffering ended. Panic ripped through me.

  “Gill! Toby!” I shouted praying it hadn’t been one of them.

  “Here, Jake,” came Toby’s strained voice somewhere ahead of me. A leather-riding crop stung my cheek bringing tears to my eyes beneath the blindfold.

  I heard another crack and Toby’s curse a moment later.

  “Guess it’s my turn,” Gill shouted, from somewhere off to my right.

  Another loud snap of leather against skin sounded.

 

  After what seemed like an hour, my horse slowed from the gallop back into a rapid canter. How long we stayed in the canter I have no idea. It is somehow next to impossible to tell how much time has gone by when you’re surrounded by darkness. It seemed like hours. I tried to rely on how tired my legs were, and how sore my butt was to determine time, but I guessed that was worthless as well.

  My horse slowed to a stop so abruptly I almost lost my grip on the saddle horn and flew over my horse’s head. I could hear orders being given, then I was pulled out of the saddle, and one of Durmack’s men tore the cloth blindfold off of my head. My legs were slightly unsteady, but he helped me stay upright.

  It was dusk and we were on the edge of a huge encampment. Hundreds, if not thousands of multicolored tents spread out before us. Men, veiled women with slender belts covered in bells, and children ran through the spaces between the tents in an orderly panic. Toby, Carla, Ivy and Gill were herded next to me. They seemed to be okay, but as disoriented as I was.

  “Everyone okay?” Gill asked.

  “A little singed, but okay,” Toby answered, putting a protective arm around Carla, who tried her best to take some of the weight off of Toby’s wounded leg. The broken shaft of the arrow still protruded out from his massive thigh.

  “Here Carla, let me do that,” I said, gently moving her out of Toby’s embrace. “Gill take his other side.”

  “To my father’s tent, quickly!” Durmack shouted.

  The war party spread out around us and we started off between the round canvas tents. The people that moved quickly out of our way were as brightly dressed as the tents. They stared at us momentarily as we moved through the noisy, bustling encampment. The smell of spices and food cooking all around us was overwhelming. My stomach growled. The smells reminded me of a Mid-Eastern restaurant my parents took me to in Santa Monica occasionally. I always had the spiced lamb.

  I couldn’t believe how hungry I was. This whole thing was so crazy, so surreal. I was walking through a nomadic encampment on a different world, surrounded by hostile nomads, helping my best friend walk, who had an arrow sticking out of his leg, and I was thinking about food.

  I had killed today. I had done it without mercy, without thought other than survival. The weight of it suddenly pressed down on me more heavily than I could bear. My legs suddenly felt weak, and I struggled to keep Toby upright.

  “You okay, Jake?” Toby asked, trying to bear more of his weight on my side, grimacing with the effort.

  I forced my legs to find the strength to support my friend.

  “I killed people today, Tob,” I stammered, unwanted tears filling my eyes.

  “You didn’t have any choice. We didn’t have a choice,” he said, quietly hanging his head.

  “Still… we killed them and just left their bodies out there to rot in the sun,” I said my tears spilling down over my cheeks.

  “They probably burned,” Toby choked.

  “The fact you both understand and care sets you apart my friends,” Gill said solemnly. “The true measure of a man is not whether he can kill, or how well he kills, but in how having to kill effects him.”

  We stopped before a large, bright orange tent. Four warriors stood in front of it, scimitars crossed before their broad chests. They bowed briefly to Durmack and stepped aside.

  As we entered the tent I was shocked. The interior of the tent was palatial… opulent. It reminded me of how an Arabian Sheik’s tent might look. Diaphanous rich brown and purple silks hung from a ceiling painted with shining golden stars. Luxurious pillows, large enough for two adults to sleep on littered the richly woven rugs covering the floor.

  Durmack conducted us through the lavish tent past veiled, scantily clad serving women to a room separated from the main room by a thick wall of opaque glass beads. He parted the beads and led us over to what had to be the biggest bed I’d ever seen.

  A man lay amongst the rich velvet blankets and furs being cared for by two physicians dressed in white robes with iridescent blue sashes. They were binding the man’s forehead with white silk.

  “Has he woken?” Durmack asked.

  “No my lord, your father has not stirred,” said the older of the two physicians.

  Durmack growled, shaking his fists at them. “Move aside imbeciles, I’ve brought a real healer.” Durmack said contemptuously, waving them away.

  The white clad men scurried off the bed and stood to the side, their eyes cast downwards in deference to Durmack.

  “Heal him, women, and be quick about it. The winds will bring the fires here before nightfall, and there is much to prepare.”

  “I don’t think so Durmack, son of Windcaller,” Ivy said, lifting her chin and placing her hands on her hips. “Neither will I be a part of your harem.”

  What the hell was she talking about, being a part of his harem? Then I realized she was reading his thoughts. Anger started welling up inside of me. That familiar sense of betrayal sent my heart racing. I made myself breathe.

  Durmack looked at Ivy furiously.

  “You will do both, to disobey is to die!”

  “I will do nothing for your father unless you concede to my wishes, and I will never be one of your wives,” Ivy responded factually, then glanced at me. “I belong to another.”

  Durmack turned red and looked at me, his hand once more going to the hilt of his saber.

  “Then I shall kill him, and you will be freed of that obligation.”

  “You can’t kill him Durmack. He is an Immortal and wields a quail blade. To challenge him will mean your ruin,” Ivy spoke confidently. “You will never be allowed to lead the People of the Plains if you fall before an outsider.”

  “Immortal?” Durmack said looking at me in shock, freeing his saber from its sheath. “He is one of the legends? This I doubt.”

  “Make it quick, Jake,” Gill said, moving back to give us more room. “Don’t kill him if possible.”

  “Aim low,” Carla whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Free his wives of one of their responsibilities.”

  “Carla!” Toby hissed warning.

  I drew Gwensorloth shaking my head.


  “I’ve no wish to kill him,” I said to Gill, stepping forward.

  Durmack gestured to his guards who cleared a space before the bed.

  “Your next choice mighty Durmack is the most important one of your life.” Ivy said stepping back beside Gill. “If you cross swords with the Immortal, you will fall, and I will not help your father. Your people will be scattered in the war to come without a leader to guide them.”

  Durmack growled, his saber shaking with his fury. He stood there, looking at me with more hatred than I’d thought was possible. I held Gwensorloth low, and waited.

  Finally, he slammed his saber back into its sheath.

  “I only do this for my father and for my people,” he said spitting on the floor before me. “One day I will kill you, and take all that is yours, boy.”

  I shrugged and replaced Gwensorloth in its sheath, profoundly relieved.

  “Heal my father woman!” he shouted at Ivy.

  “You will agree to escort us to Brighton and do what you can to slow the dark elves as they cross the plain into the pass,” she said looking him in the eye. “Swear it!”

  “We will need every warrior we have to move our camp, before the fire arrives, I cannot spare even one man to escort you, much less do battle against the dark army,” Durmack fumed, vivid at Ivy’s demands.

  “I will do what I can for your father, Durmack, then I will turn the fire,” Ivy said. “Do you agree?”

  A slow smile spread over Durmack’s face.

  “Done woman. If you fail in either case you will become one of my wives willingly. Now see to my father!”

  Ivy nodded and walked over to the bed. I watched helplessly as she crawled up on it and put her hands on the chieftain’s head. She closed her eyes grimacing in concentration. A light purple glow enveloped her hands and spread over the older man’s bearded face. A collective gasp went up from the room. His eyes fluttered open and his breathing eased. Ivy removed her hands.

  “He’s thirsty, give him water, but not too much,” she said. It had only taken minutes, but she looked drained.

  The white clothed physicians hurried forward and helped to prop their leader up so he could drink. Ivy pushed aside the pitcher held by the older of the two men and backed away off of the bed.

  “Not from that pitcher!” Ivy said to the older of the two healers. “It’s poison. You’re poisoning him!”

  The white robed man growled and threw the pitcher of water at Ivy. Drawing a dagger from his belt, he lifted the slender blade up over the prostrated chief. I was too far away to do anything but watch as the knife descended towards the leader’s bared chest. The other healer’s eyes went wide in disbelief, and he threw himself over his chieftain. The assassin’s blade sank deeply into the young physician’s back, all the way to the hilt.

  Before the assassin could pull his blade out of the young man’s back, Durmack was atop of him wrestling him off the bed to the ground. The guards went into action joining Durmack as he subdued the cursing assassin.

  The young mortally wounded doctor lifted himself off of the chief and collapsed next to him on the bed.

  “Hurry, Jake!” Ivy shouted, jumping over the tangle of men on the floor. “Help me!”

  I jumped onto the bed and scrambled over to where the young physician lay silent, the dagger sticking out of his back at an odd angle.

  Ivy crawled around the chieftain and felt the young man’s neck for a pulse.

  “He’s alive, barely,” she whispered. “Rip open his clothing around the wound, I have to touch his skin.”

  I grabbed the cloth where the dagger had cut through and tore it open, wrenching his shirt in two. Ivy immediately placed her hands around the bloody wound, against the hilt. They started to glow purple.

  “When I say so, pull out the knife,” she whispered, her beautiful face furrowed in concentration.

  I nodded.

  Her face grew more strained.

  “Now, slowly!”

  I gently pulled the knife free and tossed it to the side. I could hear a gurgling noise as the physician struggled to draw breath.

  “His lung is punctured, Ivy.”

  “I know Dear Heart,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

  The purple glow spread out from Ivy’s hands and into his skin, surrounding the sucking wound that was spewing frothing blood with every beat of the physician’s heart. The blood on his skin started to boil, then turned into steam and vanished. The hole abruptly closed, leaving a small white scar. Immediately, his breathing eased and he groaned.

  Ivy continued pressing her hands against his back for a couple more minutes, then sat back clearly exhausted.

  “He’ll live,” she whispered, the barest hint of a smile on her sweet lips.

  “Amazing… Ivy, “ I stammered, trying to get a grip on what she’d just done. “You saved his life!”

  “And mine as well child. Twice,” the chieftain said from beside us, pulling himself upright. “Perhaps you would like to be my wife?”

  I sighed, rolling my eyes.

  He laid a hand on my arm smiling. “A joke, Immortal. I could use that water now.”

  “Bring me fresh water, hurry!” Durmack shouted, coming to the chieftain’s side and embracing him. “You live father!”

  “Thanks to her, my son.”

  “I know father. I know.”

  “That’s a mozgul dagger,” Gill said pointing at the blade I’d pulled from the young physicians back.

  “So it is,” the chieftain said. “Take the traitor away.”