Jacob's Reign

by Jonathan Giddinge

  The sun disappeared, and I slept. Not for long, but I did sleep. The visions still haunted me, keeping me awake for most of the night.

  As the sun began to rise, I got up, ate a handful of nuts for my breakfast and set out to hit my next destination. It was a small camp on the edge of a river. It would be the last camp before I got to the deep valley. Through the camp was the only way to cross the wide and fast-moving river and it was nearly a day’s walk to get there. I wasn’t sure if the river camp was even still there or if the people would be friendly, or willing to let me pass. Not everything on the map was entirely accurate and I didn’t know exactly what I was walking into. If the people were unfriendly, I would have to follow the river until I found a different way across. According to my map, there was no other way across for miles. That’s days of walking that I don’t have to waste.

  I had walked nearly the entire day without a break. It wasn’t that I was trying to make good time to the river camp, I just forgot to stop, forgot to eat and even forgot to drink. I was reliving my visions, and before I knew it, I was on a ridge looking down at the river camp. I was hungry, tired and thirsty. I dropped my pack, drank from the bladder, then grabbed the spyglass and crouched, to keep my profile low. The camp had no fortification and at first glance, it appeared to be abandoned. The river ran through the center of the camp and the bridge was wide and looked sturdy enough to cross. As I scanned the camp for signs of life, I saw movement and realized that the inhabitants were aware of my presence and were hiding. An ambush perhaps, I said to myself. They must have lookouts posted where I didn’t see them. It wouldn’t have been hard, I wasn’t paying attention as I walked and could have easily walked right by them.

  I looked up and down the river, trying to find another way of crossing, but saw nothing and knew there was nothing. I put the glass away and hung my pack over my shoulders. Perhaps they were just careful, and hiding from me until I got closer to their camp. Maybe I would get lucky and they would have food and provide a place for me to lay my head for the night. I tried to concentrate and clear my head. I thought that maybe I would get a vision, or maybe a feeling that would help me know the intentions of those who were hiding from me.

  Tired and half starved, I made my way down the ridge and walked toward the camp. I kept my hand away from my gun and stopped at the edge of the camp. I looked around and waited. It was a good-sized camp with well-made wooden structures. There were trees all around and a large forest on the other side of the river. Smoke still snuck out from a chimney stack on one of the buildings; I knew the place was not abandoned, but why was nobody coming out to greet me?

  I took one more step closer to the camp and I was greeted by a group of heavily armed women running at me from nearby buildings. I threw up my hands and took a step or two back. I think I might have had the strong need to relieve myself too, but I held it back. No words were spoken at first, as I looked around at the women. Some of them wielded large swords and others had guns, any one of them could have taken me in a fight and they all looked like they wanted to string me up and roast me over an open flame. This wasn’t what I had in mind for dinner.

  “Why have you come here?” A woman asked.

  I looked around, but couldn’t tell which one was speaking.

  “I asked you a question,” she said again.

  Suddenly the women in front of me parted and a tall, thin woman with pale white hair walked toward me. She was strong and wore leather armor with white, almost sheer clothes underneath. Her skirt reached to her knees and she wore brown leather boots with shin guards. She wore leather braces around her forearms, and in her hand, she held a large blade.

  “Pardon my intrusion,” I said with my head low.

  “No pardons,” she snapped. “Answer my question.”

  “I was hoping to go to the deep valley,” I said hesitantly.

  “Ha!” she said. She turned and walked away. I didn’t know if I was meant to follow her, but I soon got my answer.

  “Take him to the queen,” she yelled back to the group.

  Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head at the base of my neck, then nothing but blackness.

  While I was unconscious I had visions. They didn’t make any sense, just jumbled images and feelings. I saw my mother holding a small child with Karline standing next to her. Then a grave site in the desert, followed by two of the triplets standing at the edge of the forest. All went black for some time. Then, out from the darkness Karline came to me and spoke softly; too softly for me to hear. My mother appeared to me and was speaking too low for me to hear as well, but she looked pleased, even at peace. Slowly the visions disappeared, and I woke from my unintended, but welcomed slumber.

  I was laying on the floor of a large room with a tall ceiling and large windows. The walls were wooden, but not just simple wood planks nailed together. Each plank was a work of a master’s hand. The tall ceiling was webbed with beams that looked like they were each carved, by hand from a single tree. In the center of the ceiling, hung a beautiful chandelier of metal, wood and glass. The sun was still up, reflecting in all directions from the chandelier, so I couldn’t have been out for too long. The floor was smooth and reflective; polished wood, I assumed. Everything in that room was made to be bright, natural and reflect the feeling of purity and openness.

  It took me a moment to get my bearings, and once I did, I got to my knees and looked around. The room was full of women looking at me, glaring at me really. My pack was gone, as was my gun, holster and even my hat and chest plate. In front of me was a beautiful woman, she looked to be much older than I, but beautiful none the less. She was dressed in natural tone light weight cloth and was sitting in a majestic throne; also made of wood, perhaps carved from a single large tree stump. Her hair was light brown and reached the ground from her seated position. Her eyes were deep-set and bright blue. On either side of her stood a menacing guard, one of which was the woman who spoke to me outside. I found it odd that I was surrounded by women, not a man or boy in sight. Many of the women looked like warriors, dressed and armed for battle with swords strapped to their backs.

  “Are you awake enough to speak?” The beautiful woman asked.

  It took a moment, but I responded, “Where am I?”

  “That’s not an answer,” she said calmly. She didn’t sound angry, just firm, like she was talking to a child.

  “Yes,” I said as I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to pacify the lingering pain.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “I am Jacob Knight, Chief of the Valley People. I come from the south in search-,” I was cut off.

  “One answer at a time,” she snapped. “Why are you alone?”

  “I left some of my people to hunt, they are a day or so south of here.”

  “Why would a chief leave his people?”

  “I am on a journey to find lands for my people. Our land is dying, and if the rains do not return, all of my people will soon die as well.”

  “Are you son of Thabian?”

  I perked up. I couldn’t see how anyone this far north could have known my father. “I am,” I said.

  “He is dead, then?”

  “He is.”

  “When?”

  “Just this month.”

  She looked upset by the news, almost hurt. She stared at me, looking into my soul, perhaps. The silence was making me nervous, but I dared not speak. I was not willing to upset this woman and make an enemy of her. After an uncomfortable time of silence, I decided to speak, “How did you know my father?” I asked.

  “What about Amos? Does he live?” she asked with a concerned tone.

  “He does. He is with the hunting party I left behind.”

  She seemed relieved at the news and even showed a slight smile.

  “Your father was a good man. There are not too many of them left. Amos is a good man too.” She paused a moment, then spoke again, “Are you a good man?”

  “I’d like to think so.”r />
  Again, there was silence. I couldn’t tell if the silence was meant to make me nervous, but it kind of was. Maybe it was her way of breaking me down, putting me off my game, so to speak. It was a brilliant technique, and I’m sure it was working.

  “Your weapon,” she began. “It’s…odd,” she said, almost confused.

  “It works just fine,” I said proudly.

  “Why does a pistol need a scope?”

  I didn’t really know how to answer that question.

  “Because,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. How do I tell her that it’s a magic gun without sounding like a lunatic?

  “Your compass and chest plate, made just for you?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And your gasmask?”

  “Yes.”

  “You think it will protect you?”

  “It will.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Over the years, I have battled the raiders many times. They have thrown every kind of poison in gas form you can think of. The tightly woven layers of grasses and the layer of powdered charcoal has filtered everything they could come up with. I’m confident in my gear.”

  “I must say, when you leave your camp, you do it with style.”

  She paused again, which told me she was about to change the subject. I tried to figure out where she was going to lead the conversation next, but I honestly had no idea. She could have asked about my intentions in the valley, or she could have tried to pry deeper into my camp or even my gear. Before I could nail it down, she spoke again.

  “Why do you want to go the deep valley?” she asked.

  I was glad she didn’t press me on the issue of my gear, but I also knew that this too was part of her technique, her game; change the subject quickly, so I did the same.

  “How did you know my father?”

  I think I just turned the table, she was caught off guard and hesitated a moment. Did I just win a round of her game?

  “Please stand,” she said kindly.

  I did as she asked, then she swept her hand in front of her. After she did, the other women left the large room, all but her two guards. She stood and walked over to one of the large windows that faced south, I joined her while her guards stayed by the throne. She had a sad look on her face as she stared out the window.

  “Your father and Amos journeyed here many years ago; I was still young. Your father wanted to go to the deep valley as well. He stayed here for many days trying to get passage, but my mother, who was queen at the time, would not allow it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the deep valley is a deadly place, it harbors many past demons for us, as well as a poisoned air that none but us can breathe. Your father said he would take the risk on for himself, but still, my mother refused.” She smiled a moment, “Did Amos not tell you of this?” she asked.

  “No. I’m finding him full of secrets lately. He and my father, for that matter.”

  “You do not like Amos?”

  “I did. Loved him in fact. He was my father’s closest friend and had a hand in raising me.”

  “What changed?”

  “I learned the truth that was hidden from me my entire life. Hidden by my father and Amos, perhaps by my mother as well.”

  “He spoke of your mother, Ariana, fondly, and of you. Is she still living?”

  “She is,” I said aggravated. I didn’t see where this conversation was heading.

  She smiled as she continued to stare out the window. She hadn’t looked at me since she left her throne and I could tell she was deep in thought, or perhaps just pulling up memories

  “A great many things are kept from future leaders. They are given the knowledge when it is needed, not before,” she said.

  “Do you have children?” I asked.

  “I do. A young daughter.”

  “And you hide things from her?”

  “She is too young, but yes, I will. It’s for protection, and to help her have the same life as the rest of the children in camp. Once old enough, and I think she’s ready, I will tell her everything.”

  “My father never told me the truth. I had to read about in his death book. Do you know what that is?”

  “He spoke of it,” she paused a moment. “He did tell you, that book was him telling you everything you needed to know.”

  “No, it wasn’t him telling me anything. It was me reading the cold words of a dead man. It would’ve been easier to hear it from him. It would have been better if he had never lied in the first place.”

  “And Amos? He’s to blame too?”

  “Yes. He keeps secrets from me, even now. Recently, about coming this far north.”

  “He means well,” she said with a smile.

  “You and him,” I began, but couldn’t finish.

  “No,” she paused with a look of longing in her eyes and it became clear to me. “His love was serving your father, and he was much too old for me,” she continued.

  “Is that what he said?”

  She turned and looked at me finally. She had a sweet smile and a single tear fighting to leave her left eye, which was hidden from me until that moment.

  “That was a long time ago,” she said.

  She walked back to her throne and then turned back toward me as I joined her.

  “Why did my father come here? Why did he want to go to the valley?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t even think my mother knew. You really don’t know yourself, do you?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “Why are you here, Jacob? Why do you want to go to the valley?”

  “My people are in need of a new home; the valley is that home.”

  “I told you, the air is poison to you, and your people.”

  “It might have been at one time, but no longer.”

  “And you somehow know this?”

  “It’s hard to explain, but yes.”

  “You have never been to the valley, yet you know better than me?”

  “With all due respect, if you are not harmed by the poisonous air, then, how do you know it’s still there?”

  “Nobody has been down in to the valley in over two-hundred years. Not since many years after the end of the war when the poison covered this entire area. The poison had a slight red coloring to it and it stained our skies. The last time anyone even got close to that place, the red mist was still hovering over the valley.”

  “You admit that you have not been down into the valley yourself, yet you claim to know it’s not safe. How can you know that for sure?”

  “Because the red mist still hovers over it. It’s that simple, Jacob.”

  “I have protection.”

  “I know you think you do.”

  “So, can I pass?”

  “Follow me,” she said.

  She led me out of the large room and took me on a tour of her camp. While we walked, she told me the history of her people.

  They lived in the deep valley before the war, it was a great city with buildings stretching skyward. For most of the war, her people were left alone, but then an army rolled into town with large steel machines that shot holes into the buildings and killed so many people. Once the red mist moved in, it killed even more people and left the survivors struggling. The army left in a hurry and the inhabitants of the city dwindled down to only fifteen people, three of them were men and seven of them were young girls, the rest were women and three of them were with child. She said that the three men were affected by the mist and could not reproduce and the three children who were born were girls and they didn’t have the bleeding time each month when they should have been old enough for it. The people thought that after the three girls died, their people would be no more.

  “After many years,” she said, “Our people became numb to the red mist and the illness disappeared. Our people were beginning to feel whole and were no longer suffering or struggling. Abigale Sopa, one of the three born after the red mist was sixteen
when she became pregnant. The men were outraged and thought her to be evil. After all, she was still a virgin and the men knew that they had not had her. They killed her and left her body in an ally to rot without a grave. That was the day that Sarah Krol, another one born after the mist, found that she too was with child.”

  We came to a stop at the edge of the bridge; she paused a moment and looked to the direction of the valley, and after a moment, she continued, “The men were all killed for what they had done. The women lived there for many years, but the valley became haunted by the spirits of the past. The hunters had to leave the valley to find food, so, to make it easier for themselves and to run from the spirits, everyone left and settled here at the river. We have enjoyed an abundance of food here, good game and good crops. We have not returned to the valley since.”

  “Was Abigale ever given a proper burial?” I asked her.

  “She could not be found. The men said they left her in an alley, but the women searched all over town and could not find her.”

  She explained that ever since her people left the deep valley, they have thrived in the river camp without the need of men to continue their population. Each of the children born after the mist became pregnant with daughters, who also had daughters, always daughters.

  “I lost my first child in a battle with the raiders, she was fourteen. My second daughter is eight and I protect her. She is the camps last hope for a queen when I am gone,” she said with watery eyes.

  “You have never been back?”

  “There is no need. My people are thriving here, and that place has many bad memories for us. I have never been there, and my mother had never been there. My people last set eyes on the valley from a distance nearly a hundred years ago, and, like I said, the mist was still there. With little or no wind down in the valley, the mist can’t move on.”

  She told me how the men fought back, and they lost a few of the other women, and how that valley has always been a stain on their past, full of bad memories.

  She turned to me and said, “Stay here for the night. If you still want to kill yourself tomorrow, I will grant you passage. If you do not return in seven days, I will send word to your camp for you. They will want to know what happened to you.”