Jacob's Reign

Home > Other > Jacob's Reign > Page 3
Jacob's Reign Page 3

by Jonathan Giddinge


  The men sat in silence eating their food while I took a seat on a nearby section of the wall that had crumbled. I pulled the map from my pack and studied it.

  “What do you think, Chief?” Amos asked.

  “The canyon is just over there and once on the other side, we should be able to track the game we need,” I replied, still looking at the map.

  “That’s a long canyon,” Frank began. “How long ‘till we reach the other side?”

  “Sun down, maybe a bit sooner,” I replied.

  “That’s if we don’t run into any trouble.” Amos said almost under his breath.

  “Are you expecting trouble?” I asked.

  “Don’t know,” he said.

  He was being a bit cryptic, which made me nervous. He’s the only one in this group that had been out this far before and he might know something we didn’t.

  The yellow line left behind by the potion that Karline poured onto the map leading through the canyon was a bit darker, which meant that there was a possibility of danger. I thought Amos knew something more than he was telling. I don’t know why he felt the need to keep information from me, but that’s not what an advisor was supposed to do, nor a friend. I leaned over to Amos and quietly asked, “What’s going on, what do you know?’

  “Nothing,” he said. “Tall cliff, eight to ten hours of walking, we’ll be fish in a barrel,” he said.

  At the time I knew there was something more to it, but I didn’t push him. I figured that as long as we keep a vigilant eye, we would be fine, and I would have words with him about it later, when others were not around.

  After the men finished eating and had a few moments of rest, something told me to get up and get moving. It was like I was being pulled up toward the canyon at that exact moment and any delay would be disastrous. I told the men to pack it up and they did. We left the post through what might have once been a grand entrance way, but was now just crumbling wood and stone.

  We made our way to the canyon in good time, walking silently and without interruption. Once we got to the mouth of the canyon, we stopped, but only for a moment. The pull was still driving me to continue without interruption. I couldn’t explain it at the time, so I didn’t. “Let’s keep moving, but keep an eye out,” I said before continuing.

  The canyon walls stretched near fifty feet high on either side and they ranged from really wide, maybe twenty to thirty yards, to only a few feet across. After some time of walking through the canyon, we came across ruins of ancient buildings which appeared to be carved right into the cliffs, it was almost like an entire city consisting of multiple levels that climbed to the top of the canyon. Most of the buildings were in bad shape, but I could imagine what the place was like back in its hay-day. I was more than impressed and so were Cadman, Frank, Hunter and Monty, but Amos didn’t seem to be fazed by them at all, he just kept looking to the cliff tops like he was expecting something. That’s when I knew that he had been there in that very canyon before and encountered something, or someone. He nervously looked around and I tried to ease into a conversation with him about it. “How old do you think these are?” I asked.

  “Before the war, I’m sure. Many years before that too, most likely,” Amos said.

  I looked back to the other men and saw that Cadman had his rifle up and at the ready. He was nervously shaking, which made me nervous. Anything that startled him could cause a twitch of the finger, which could result in the loss of one of us. I slowed my gate and waited for him to catch up, then I walked alongside him, “Relax and take your finger off the trigger. We don’t need accidents,” I said calmly.

  “You said to keep an eye out, that’s what I’m doing,” he said firmly.

  “I said keep an eye out, not be paranoid.”

  I pushed the barrel of his weapon down slowly with my left hand, “There is no clear danger at the moment. You don’t need to have your gun up. If people are around, they would take it as a sign of hostilities,” I explained.

  I stayed in the back of the group as we continued to make our way through the rugged canyon. Large boulders and uneven ground made it hard to move quickly and I wanted to stay back to make sure nobody rushed. We were moving slower that I had expected, and I was afraid that if the ground didn’t smooth out soon, we would never make it out of the canyon before dark. To my relief the ground did become smoother and easier to navigate, but I thought it might already be too late. I was positive that we would be camping in the canyon for the night.

  “Jacob,” Amos said urgently, but not loud.

  I caught up to him and quietly he said, “Along the cliff, don’t be obvious.”

  I looked, but saw nothing at first, the sun was hitting the edge of the cliffs casting bright rays. Amos was able to see with shaded lenses at the flip of a small lever on his goggles. For him, it was as easy as seeing a small child half a mile away. After a moment, through the rays of light and as my eyes adjusted, I saw figures standing on the edge looking down at us. They didn’t seem hostile, but they were most definitely intimidating. I turned back to my men and told them to keep their rifles to their sides and fingers off their triggers. I didn’t want to set off the men standing above us.

  These were strange men to me. They were wearing only a cloth around their waist and had darker skin and long and straight black hair. Their bodies were not covered with hair, like most men, but they were smooth, almost like they shaved it off daily. There were men standing with long spears and men on horseback with bow and arrow in hand. The horses were stout and painted with bright colors. I wanted to reach for my weapon, but knew it was a bad idea, so I fought the urge.

  “They are no threat to us as long as we keep walking,” Amos said.

  I turned to him and said, “You and I need to have a talk.”

  He said nothing as he continued to look ahead at the bend in the canyon. I thought that he might be expecting an ambush on the other side of the bend and I made myself ready for it. I kept my eyes tilted upward, waiting for something to go wrong. When we rounded the bend, I saw something I was not expecting, although I probably should have. As we went around the bend, a man on the top of the cliff yelled out. No words, just a high-pitched yell. Around that bend was a group of these mostly naked men with spears and bows, and at the sound of the yell, they turned toward us with weapons at the ready. I slowed my walk and kept slowing until I was about ten yards away from the group, then I held my arms out to the side and stopped. I needed them to know I was not there as a threat. There were fifteen or twenty of them and five painted horses with riders next to them, holding tight to their manes.

  Through this group of fifteen or twenty, I could see that in the center was a man kneeling, and holding his friend’s head in his lap. His friend looked hurt, but I couldn’t see enough of him to know what was wrong. Two of the older men in the group stared at Amos, like they knew him from somewhere, and this only solidified the fact that he knew this group; perhaps he had a run-in with them at some point in his travels. Maybe they were enemies, or maybe they were friends.

  The men were talking amongst themselves, it was a language that I was not familiar with and it almost sounded like they were singing. Their language had a cadence to it and seemed to flow from their lips. I would even say it was a beautiful language.

  I took a step forward, thinking I might be able to help the injured man. In unison, every man in the group and every man on the cliff lifted their spears and bows. The noise of the movement of so many men at once was loud and echoed throughout the canyon. It stopped me in my tracks and I held my hands out further to the sides. I turned to my men, they had their rifles held up, all but Amos. I told the men to lower their weapons and I turned back to the group once my men did as instructed.

  The group kept their weapons on me as I, once again began to walk toward them. As I grew near to the group they lowered their spears and bows slowly and stepped to the side, letting me through to the injured man. With the others out of the way, I saw that the man lying o
n the ground was breathing shallow and sweating. His friend held his hand over a wound to keep the blood from spilling out and coloring the canyon floor. It looked to me like a kidney shot, that meant death out here with no help. It did not appear to be a wound from a spear, or an arrow, but more of a gunshot. But from who and when? We hadn’t heard any gunshot recently and with every sound echoing off the canyon walls, we would have heard it for miles.

  Suddenly I remembered the vials of liquid that my mother had given to me for the men in my group. I stopped just in front of the injured man, removed my pack, and took a knee.

  The friend removed his hand from the wound to show it to me; when he did blood spilled from the opening. I reached into the side pouch of my pack and removed a small pouch which held the six small vials of special liquid. I pulled one vial from the pouch, then sat the pouch on the ground next to me. All eyes were on that vial as I removed the small wooden stopper; a small puff of smoke left the vial and dissipated quickly. The musical language was spoken again as the men seemed to be mixed in reaction. The injured man’s eyes grew with fear as he tried to talk, but couldn’t force the words. His friend held him still and spoke to him calmly.

  “This will help,” I said in a comforting tone. I don’t know why I said it, they didn’t understand my words, but I think they might have understood my tone, at least, that was my hope. I poured the liquid into his mouth and he swallowed hard with a wince in his face. All eyes were on the injured man, even from my own group of men. It was silent, I could have heard a mouse squeak from a mile away as we all waited. I was nervous; I didn’t really know if the potion that my mother mixed up would help. If it did nothing, these men might use me as a scapegoat for the death of their friend. They might kill me and my men, just to feel better about it. It was my job as Chief to make the hard choices that could build alliances or create enemies, but I didn’t want my men to pay for it.

  The injured man’s breathing became deeper and steadier. His sweat began to evaporate in the dry desert heat as he looked at me with shock in his dark eyes. He started coughing hard and again all eyes were on me, some of them looked like they were ready to kill me. I looked down at the injured man, not wanting to see the killing blow coming and tensed up a bit when suddenly the man stopped coughing and took a deep breath. His friend removed his hand from the wound, and to my surprise, the hole had vanished as if it was never there to begin with. Not so much as a scar was left behind.

  The men gasped collectively as the once injured man stood, shaky at first, then steady with a proud stance. He had just beaten death and had a remarkable story to tell his children and grandchildren. They spoke to each other in amazement as he wiped the remaining blood from his body. He looked down at me, as if I was some sort of savior; I stood. He leapt at me and wrapped his arms tightly around me. I returned the hug and was relieved that the potion was a success. We let go of each other and he turned to his men. He screamed out a cry of happiness as he held a fist skyward. His people cheered and yelled out a war cry that echoed in the canyon; it was almost deafening.

  I lifted my pack and returned it to my shoulders where it belonged, then returned to my men, who were looking at me strange. I looked up to the top of the canyon just in time to see the men walking away, then I turned to the men in the canyon with us. The men with horses mounted them, then the group walked past us, heading south through the canyon; they said nothing as they passed me and my men. I watched for a moment, then the formerly injured man turned back to me and smile as he nodded his head; I returned the nod and raised my hand in a friendly wave as I smiled. I knew that I had just made allies and it put me at peace for the moment.

  “Now, I think we really do need to talk, my chief,” Amos said.

  I turned to him, then to my men, I wanted to say something to them, but with the way they were looking at me, I just didn’t know what to say. I turned and continued our journey without word at first, then I yelled back to the men, “We need to make up time.”

  Chapter Four

  We walked in silence for nearly two hours before I stopped to take a drink from a sheep’s bladder full of water. The men leaned up against a pile of large rocks against the canyon wall and rested a moment while Amos walked over to me full of questions.

  “Do you want to explain?” he asked.

  “Not until you do,” I said before taking a second sip from the bladder.

  He looked away a moment. I don’t know what he was hoping to accomplish by doing so, but when he turned back to me, he looked almost scared. “What do you want to know?” he asked.

  “You knew they would be there, or at least you knew it was possible that they would be there,” I said before taking another swig of water.

  “I had my concerns.”

  “Why hide them, why lie to me, to your Chief?”

  “I thought they might have passed on to other lands by now.”

  “Tell me now, everything,” I demanded.

  Amos dropped his pack and took a seat on it. He adjusted his knee brace and his goggles before speaking, “It was years before you were born. Your father and I were exploring outside the walls, it was shortly after moving the camp to the lake. They call themselves the Nation and they are mostly friendly, until you become a threat. They claim this land as theirs, and as long as we just pass through, we’ll be fine.”

  “Is there a reason you decided to keep this to yourself?”

  “I thought it would be the prudent thing to do. There was no certainty that we would cross them, and I didn’t want to concern you.”

  “Clearly, you do not know what it means to be a trusted advisor. You spent too much time with the last Chief, who lied on a daily basis to his people. It has made it too easy for you to keep secrets from me.” I walked away and joined the other men. Amos stood and turned to me, but said nothing.

  “What was in that vial?” Frank asked.

  I took a knee and set my pack down in front of me, “My mother gave me six vials for our trip. They were to be taken by each of us.” I reached into my pack and pulled out the leather pouch which contained the remaining five vials. “I was told to give this to everyone before the trip and it would help keep us safe. I forgot.” I handed them out to each of the men, including Amos, after he joined us.

  “Do we just drink it?” Cadman asked as he examined the vial, almost in disgust.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “What about you?” Monty asked.

  “Mine went to a good use, I’ll be fine,” I said.

  Nobody wanted to go first, they looked at the vials, then at each other, waiting for someone to drink. Amos shrugged his shoulders and poured it into his mouth as everyone watched.

  “Well?” Frank asked.

  “How is it?” Cadman asked.

  “Is it good? How do you feel?” Hunter asked.

  “It’s kinda sweet. I feel fine,” Amos said as he handed the empty vial back to me.

  The others drank and handed the empty vials back to me; I returned them to the small pouch, then to my pack before I walked away from the group.

  “Does this mean we’re invincible?” Cadman asked.

  “Doubt it. Let’s get moving, we lost a lot of time and daylight,” I yelled back.

  Within a few hours of walking, the sun had cast the canyon in a deep shadow and I knew that it was time to stop for the night. I was hoping to be out of the canyon by this point, but our delay had changed everything. We made camp in a narrow section of the canyon, thinking it would provide a small measure of safety. The men fed and turned in for the night with plenty of talk about the upcoming hunt. Amos sat across the canyon from me and said nothing, he was avoiding me and even avoiding eye contact.

  The next morning, we headed out and walked with little rest for most of the day. Shortly after our mid-day break I noticed some faded tracks in the sand and I adjusted my path to follow them. They were leading us in the same general direction that we were already going, telling me that we were indeed, on the right
track. As the light began to fade and cast long shadows across the landscape, the terrain became rockier, with small patches of dried grasses and shrubs.

  “Do you see that?” I asked as I pointed down.

  Without looking down at the ground, Amos answered, “You’ve been following the tracks for quite some time,” he looked at me. “I see more than most people, remember?”

  I chuckled a bit, “Three days old,” I said.

  “At least, maybe more.”

  Up ahead and to the left of our path sat a tall and rocky hill. At the top of the hill was a large, half dead tree struggling to stay alive. The tracks that I had been following wrapped around the hill, I turned to Amos, “That looks like a place to call home for the night.”

  He nodded in agreement and we adjusted our path. Once at the top I saw that it was flat and wide. The rocks that littered the crest could be moved to make a more comfortable space for the night. Under the rocks was hard packed dirt that could be churned and softened. I turned to the men, but realized that they had just reached the bottom of the hill, so I dropped my pack and waited. From my position, I could see a great distance. The rocky terrain subsided just two or three hundred yards to the north and I could make out a forest farther north. To the south I saw pillars of smoke and assumed they were from camp fires made by the darker skinned people we met the day before.

  “I’ll start the fire, it might be a while before the men get here,” Amos said.

  I laughed, but didn’t disagree with him, how could I, he was probably right. The tension between Amos and myself had subsided throughout the day. He was used to a different kind of leader, and I had to learn to forgive him for it.

 

‹ Prev