by Jeff Gunzel
The man lurched forward, making everyone jump at once. Eric didn’t blink, just continued to observe as he lurched again, his cheeks puffing, chest pushed out. This time, a line of spittle flowed from his mouth. The man brought his hand to his lips. One final heave regurgitated something he now held in his palm. He looked up at Eric, wiping his mouth with the back of his other hand. He touched his forehead, then his heart, giving a slight nod before tossing the shiny object on the rug. By the time it bounced once, he was gone. The strings of beads barely swung back and forth.
Although the man was long gone, Eric mimicked the hand motion, touching his forehead then his heart. He picked up the silver coin, then held it up for all to see.
Chapter 6
Eric rotated the coin between his thumb and index finger, ignoring its sticky saliva coating. The first side was engraved with a tree. The colorless tree was bland and lacked detail. It had no leaves and could have easily been mistaken for some sort of common bush. But the second side was engraved with a highly intricate crown. A shiny gold, it rose into five separate peaks, each topped with a colorless jewel. The crown itself was engraved with black markings, each one too small to properly make out. Other jewels looked to be embedded along the crown’s base, still colorless, yet surprisingly detailed. One could only wonder what such an extravagant piece might be worth.
“So what does it mean?” asked Jade, not sure she even wanted to know. “Does that coin mean anything to either of you?” She looked at Wara, then to Kelus. Neither answered right away. They just kept staring at the coin while Eric rolled it from side to side.
The coin disappeared into Eric’s hand when he suddenly clenched his fist around it. Both Kelus and Wara flinched at the movement, as if it broke them from a trance. “You’ve looked at it long enough,” said Eric, his voice impatient, yet commanding. “Jade asked you both a question, and I would like to hear the answer.” An uneasy silence followed.
“You’ve made a powerful enemy, my boy,” Kelus responded reluctantly.
“How did she even know he was here?” Wara asked. The old woman’s voice broke with each word. Eric wasn’t particularly fond of the Circle, but had at least found them to be competent, and nearly unshakable. He had never seen Wara this uneasy. Wara looked at Kelus, her green eyes bulging in a shocked expression bordering on panic. “He can no longer stay here. You know that as well as I.”
Kelus sighed. Yes, the stress was definitely getting to him. The poor man was really beginning to look old. “My boy, I’m afraid we’ve run out of time.”
“What do you mean, we’ve run out of time?” Jade interrupted. “Out of time for wh—”
Eric raised his hand, urging her to calm down.
“We can wait no longer,” said Wara, her calm, confident demeanor returning once more. With her head held high and back straight as a board, her powerful words filled the room. “Let the Trials of Ashbarn begin.”
* * *
Jacob and Nima sat alone in the empty room, waiting for the others to return. It was so quiet that they could almost hear each other breathing. The faint clicking of dry leaves blowing around just outside the door offered a temporary relief from the awkward silence. Slumped down on a stool with a white towel draped down over his face, Jacob didn’t seem to care about, or even notice, Nima. She glanced at him from time to time, not sure how to ease his pain.
“Are you alright?” Nima asked softly, no longer able to bear the silence. He shifted a little but didn’t answer. “I know what you’re going through, Jacob. We’ve all lost loved ones. Feel free to take all the time you need. To grieve, I mean.”
“You know what I’m going through?” he hissed mockingly from underneath the towel. “You know nothing of what I’m going through.” Jacob ripped away the towel, revealing tangled unkempt hair and wild eyes that made him look insane. “Lost loved ones? You speak about her as if she were dead. Well, she’s not dead! She’s out there, alone in the wilderness. She could be in trouble. She could be hurt or worse.” Nima was having a hard time looking him in the eyes. Those wild, crazed eyes narrowed suddenly. “You think I’m grieving? Oh no, Nima. I’ll not waste sorrow and regret on the living. And believe me, Athel still lives. I know it in my heart.” He held a hand to his chest. “I know you don’t believe me, but I can feel her somehow, like she is a part of me.”
Nima stood from the chair and walked over to the door. “Sounds to me like your mind is made up,” she said flatly. “You’re going after her, aren’t you?”
A long time passed before he spoke. “I won’t let you stop me.”
She spun about, looking surprised by his comment. “And why would I do that? Your life is your own, to do as you see fit.” She sighed. “To be honest, I truly hope everything I said is wrong. I hope you find her. I hope she is well and you are able to bring her back, unharmed.” Jacob raised his eyebrow in suspicion. “You heard me,” she said sharply. “In short...I am praying for a miracle.”
Jacob stood up from the stool. “Miracles are my specialty.”
“So I’m told,” she said, a sheepish grin crossing her face. “But despite your undeniable reputation for escaping tight spots, I think you might need a little more than luck this time. Gather only what you need, and I shall return shortly.”
Jacob watched her leave then began to gather his things. I must travel light. Only take what I need. He leaned his staff in the corner of the room, throwing a coiled bedroll beside it. Can’t forget these. Grabbing a worn leather backpack, he began to fill it with basic items: flint and steel, vial of oil, a loaf of stale bread and a few strips of goat jerky. After that, there was just enough room for a single change of clothes.
He sat back down and began to think. Jacob was a doer, not one for planning things out. Doubts and worries began to creep into his head. I don’t even know where to start looking. What if I find her and she refuses to return with me? He shook away that last thought. No, I’ll tie her hands and feet then drag her back if necessary. Jacob was growing anxious now. Nima seemed to be taking an awfully long time. He eyed the door suspiciously. What’s taking her so long? She better not be telling the others what I’m planning to—
The door slid open. Nima peeked her head inside, smiled, then made a motion to someone behind her. In a panic, Jacob leaped to his feet. “Who’s with you?” he whispered angrily. “You weren’t supposed to tell any—”
She quieted him with a finger to her lips. “Calm down. Everything is fine.” Nima entered the room, followed closely by Amoshi. Jacob eyed the two of them warily. “Amoshi is going to join you.”
Jacob waved his hands in disapproval. “Oh no, he’s not. I’m doing this by myself. Who knows how many days’ lead she has already, and I need to travel light and fast.” He looked at Amoshi. “I’m sorry, my friend, it’s nothing personal.”
Amoshi leaned back against the wall. His sun-darkened arms bulged when he crossed them over his chest. He held Jacob’s gaze for a time before speaking. “So you’re afraid I’ll slow you down.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “A man of nature, are you? One who can navigate these woods with ease, find water where there is none, can tell which berries are poisonous?” Jacob looked away, knowing full well he had none of these skills. “Tell me, Jacob, can you even tell a deer’s tracks from a rabbit’s?”
“Jacob, you need someone who knows their way around the woods,” Nima said softly. “He is at one with the forest, and his tracking skills are second to none. Even if you don’t think you need the extra protection, you’ll at least have someone who can tell you which way she went.”
Jacob shook his head reluctantly. “But I don’t understand why you want to help me. You’re risking your own life for no good reason. I mean, what do you have to gain?”
“Nothing,” Amoshi spat out, as if the word itself tasted bitter. He glanced over to Nima. “Let’s just say I’m doing a favor for an old friend.”
“Alright then, fine,” said Jacob. “Assume we are even able to find her tra
il. You know she can smell us coming from a few miles away. How do we get around that?”
“Jacob,” said Nima. “If she doesn’t want to be found, no one’s going to find her. But if all that concerns you is her picking up your scent...” Nima gestured for each of them to sit. “Well, that will be easy enough to remedy.” Amoshi and Jacob each sat down. “I do this for our hunters all the time. A simple trick, really.” She held a hand over each of their heads. The green dy-chita strapped to her forehead began to glow faintly. Its dim light pulsed two or three times before fading out. White flakes similar to snow fell from her fingers and sprinkled across their heads and shoulders. The flakes disappeared the moment they made contact.
Jacob shivered reflexively, expecting them to feel cold. In truth, he couldn’t feel them at all. “What was that? What did you do?”
“As I stated before, this is just a simple trick we Palins do for the hunters before they go out in search of game. It masks their scent, making them far less noticeable to wildlife.”
“How long will it last?” Jacob asked, brushing at his shoulders even though the dust had long since dissipated.
“I’m not really sure,” Nima answered honestly. “The hunters always return in a day or two, so at least that long.”
“Well, let’s hope it lasts longer than that,” said Amoshi, standing up impatiently. “I’ll go pack.”
“Good,” said Nima. “And hurry; the two of you will leave within the hour.”
* * *
Shantis sat on the cold floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Wearing nothing but a dingy loincloth, she shivered from the cool, damp air. Her white hair frayed out wildly, and her skin was dry and gritty. When was the last time she had a bath? She couldn’t remember. Shantis had considered using some of her limited drinking water for washing, but decided against it. They gave her so little. Who knew when they would fill her bowl again? Better to stay filthy and not die of thirst.
How long had she been in here? There was no real way to tell. It was always dark in here, and there were no windows to look outside. She couldn’t even be sure if it was day or night. But that wasn’t the worst part. The silence was enough to drive one mad. There always seemed to be a distant ringing in her ear, and not even the slightest sound to detract from it.
Shantis leaned back, huddling into the dark corner. As she did, the wooden planks creaked loudly. She relished the blissful sound, no matter how short-lived it was. Anything to break the silence. How could my own people have betrayed me? she thought. I loved them like my own children. She shook away the dark thought, logic overriding her emotion. It’s not their fault. They are frightened, that’s all. And those who are frightened can easily be deceived. Sooner or later, they will come to see reason. Won’t they?
But Filista was not frightened. What excuse could she possibly offer for her betrayal? This time Shantis embraced the rage building back up, let it fill her until it seemed she might burst. “Why, Filista?” she said out loud. “Why did you do it? What gain could be had by deceiving your own people, then allowing them to die like sheep at the hands of evil?” She slammed her fists down on the floor, forcing the dust to rise up around her. “What’s to be gained?!” she shrieked.
Even in the dark, her keen eyes could see the stirred dust floating around. It settled back down to the floor, her arms, her face... Shantis began to draw shapes and symbols in the dust with her finger, one of the few ways she had found to distract herself. A triangle, then a square with lines slashed diagonally across it. Each time she finished, a swipe of her hand sent the dust scattering about, then settling back down to form a fresh new canvas for her to create.
She continued to draw thoughtlessly, zigzagging lines with no shape or pattern. “Brinkton,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek, leaving a dark trail down her dust-covered face. “Not you too.” Brinkton, her mighty champion and most trusted friend. Countless times they had fought side by side, only to snatch victory from the jaws of death. He was a true warrior who had saved her life more times than she could count. The man proved to be loyal to a fault. If he had a weakness, that was it...
The door creaked open a crack. With her eyes so adjusted to the dark, the tiny bit of light came through in a blast of brightness. She shielded her eyes, trying to see who this most recent intruder was. “I’ll leave this here,” came the unmistakable voice through the light.
“Brinkton?” she said hesitantly. “Is that you?” She knew it was. The door began to close. “Wait. Brinkton, wait!” She crawled across the room desperately, kicking up dust as she went.
The door gradually swung back open, bathing the whole room in blinding light. Shantis stopped moving, shielding her eyes with both hands. Odd, how something as simple as light could cause such astonishing discomfort.
“I brought you some food. What more do you want from me?” the warrior grunted.
She could smell the porridge in the bowl. She hobbled over to the side wall like a wounded animal, and leaned into it. Still covering her eyes, she moaned, “What did she say to you, Brinkton? How did she so easily mislead my champion—my friend?” Her eyes adjusting somewhat, she was only now beginning to make out his enormous frame. His face was shrouded in darkness, but she knew he was looking at her.
“You’re so eager to believe I have no voice of my own,” he grunted. “Convinced I must have been tricked into blindly following another. Well, I assure you, Priestess, my eyes are wide open. I see the wisdom in Filista’s words. Never again will I be your pet, a dog to send after anyone who dares oppose you. No longer will I be accomplice to your bizarre infatuation with that...that...human. And make no mistake, Priestess: A mere human is all he is. Even the most simpleminded of beings can see that. “
“Oh, Brinkton,” she said softly, rolling her head away from him. “Your words burn, like hot iron pressed to my heart. I never once tried to deceive you. My every decision, my every choice, was made was for the good of our people. Please, don’t do something we’ll both regret for the rest of our days. Days that are numbered unless we act soon. Please, Brinkton, search your heart. You know I speak the truth. If you’ve ever trusted me before, trust me this once!”
He disappeared from the room without another word. Shantis had just been able to make out his face before he left. He looked sad. Sadder than she had ever seen the warrior, as if his heart had been ripped from his chest. “Brinkton,” she whispered, even though she was alone. “I loved you. You were never my pet.”
* * *
Shantis stirred in her sleep. The distant sounds of conversation invaded her dreams, a far-off buzz of chatter. She rubbed her eyes, blinking away the sleep before sitting up. As always, the dark room remained encased in shadow, so dark she briefly questioned if her eyes were even open. The worlds of sleep and consciousness seemed to blend together into a single state of being—a living trance of sorts. Yet she could still hear the voices, clearer now. She crawled over to the wall and carefully pressed her ear against the rough, splintered wood. What’s going on out there? A gathering?
* * *
Crytons lingered all about the cleared area. Some lounged about, leaning against the surrounding black stone huts. Others gathered in tight groups of four or five, chattering away uneasily. Most were covered from head to toe with glittery rings and chains, a customary fashion amongst the crytons. The whole village was buzzing with rumors, and the chosen location for this village meeting did nothing to calm those rumors.
There they stood before the High Priestess’s temple. The pearl-white steps leading up to the black stone structure had been swept and scrubbed as usual. There was nothing out of the ordinary here, except the temple was now...empty.
The crowd continued to grow as more and more families came, mothers holding their children, men with their arms wrapped around their wives. Even more came as the morning dragged on, most avoiding looking directly at the temple. Something big was going on here, and everyone could feel it. The High Priestess had disappeared a
nd the temple certainly looked empty, but this was not entirely true...
Filista Umyon walked through the temple, eyeing its lavish surroundings: the fine handcrafted chairs and tables assembled with white polished bone; ornate oil paintings of odd rituals and beasts that were long extinct, each one embedded in a frame made of the same polished bone. She ran her hand down a red silk tapestry, bordered in white lace with gold highlights. You’ve lived too well for too long, old friend. I’m afraid it’s time to pass the torch.
Filista reached upward in an exaggerated groan-filled stretch, then fell backward into one of the chairs. Leaning back with her fingers locked behind her head, she threw her feet up on the table, one followed heavily by the other. Yes, too well for too long indeed. She reached up, running her fingers through her marvelously thick white hair, making the tiny red ribbons bounce around. Her gold and silver bracelets fell down the length of her arm, collecting near her shoulder.
She was a confident, calculating woman who left nothing to chance. Everything was falling into place, just as planned. Most remain confident and sure in times of war and times of peace. It’s in times of uncertainty where their resolve begins to waver. She grinned, hearing the uneasy chattering outside. The longer they waited, the more anxious they would become. Just a little longer, I think.
She rose from the chair and moved towards the door, listening. Arguments had begun to break out. Her grin grew even wider, hearing their angry tones. In times of uncertainty, everyone looks to their leaders for guidance. No one wants to make decisions; they want them to be made for them. The choices I make don’t have to be the right ones; they just need to be swift and concise. That alone breeds confidence. And that is what my people need. That is all they want.