Lawrence and Elizabeth stopped in a clearing, taking a moment to rehydrate. As Lawrence closed his deerskin pouch, he heard it. It was a rumbling underground, faint at first, but growing ever stronger as time passed. He glanced at his mother, unsure of what to make of the strange noise.
He had no chance to ponder it further.
The ground exploded underneath them, the blast sending Elizabeth hurling through the air, separating her from Lawrence. She hit the ground with a loud thud. She didn’t move. A monstrous brown wurm, twenty feet in length, charged out of the ground and slithered to the opposite end of the clearing. It whirled and twisted itself around. It reared up, bringing its head off the ground, and opened its giant maw. Hundreds of razor sharp teeth circled around and around, as it screeched in anger at missing its prey.
Lawrence was petrified. He had been only inches away from being swallowed whole by the beast. The myths his mother had told him were true. He had heard of these creatures, the massive wurms of the Endless, but only in bedtime stories. They lived deep underground, sensing the vibrations from deer or other animals that ran through the forest. They attacked their unsuspecting prey with predatory precision, engulfing them in their nightmarish maw before their victims had a chance to realize they were in danger. The only clue they gave their quarry to their imminent demise was the faint rumbling underground that grew gradually louder as they approached.
“Mother!” Lawrence shouted. He instinctively raced toward his mother’s crumpled body. He stopped dead in his tracks after a few steps, realizing his fatal mistake. The wurm’s underground dwellings had, through generations of evolution, enhanced its hearing a thousand fold. Even though the wurm had lost its eyes to the same process, its keen sense of hearing more than made up for its lack of sight. The wurm burrowed back underground at a torrid pace; Lawrence knew its target. The ground rumbled loudly as Lawrence ran opposite where his mother lay. The wurm burst through the ground as Lawrence dove to avoid it. Pieces of sod and dirt flew everywhere. The wurm moved with a pace that defied its enormous size. It could hear Lawrence flail about as he tried to stand. The wurm flicked its tail around Lawrence’s prone body, snatching him off the ground. The wurm began to encircle him, twisting Lawrence under immense pressure. Lawrence struggled in vain to escape, but could not draw his sword as his sheath was crushed against the wurm’s constricting, fleshy body.
The wurm postured for the kill, and drove its toothy head toward Lawrence’s defenseless body. Lawrence screamed helplessly as his death approached. He could feel the rush of wind from the whirring of the beast’s myriad fangs. He closed his eyes, and swayed around, trying to cling to life for every last breath he could.
But he didn’t feel the teeth rip through his body. At least he was pretty sure he didn’t. Instead he felt the wurm’s grip go limp as he was sprayed by its slimy entrails. He lifted his arms from the wurm’s flaccid body, wiped his face off, and opened his eyes. He was awe-struck by the sight around him. The wurm’s head lie at his feet as brown blood and guts spouted from the beast’s still upright body. Finally, the corpse of the monstrous beast toppled over, like a broken tree trunk, and crashed to the ground below. Sticks and debris crackled in its wake.
And Lawrence saw his savior.
A man stood facing Lawrence. His beard was grey, long, and scraggly. It descended down to his navel. His face was hardened from the elements, his hair long and dirty. He wore a deerskin hide, moccasins, and battered leather leggings. A raccoon fur hat was his helm. He held a colossal sword in his right hand, drenched in the thick blood of the beast he had just decapitated. His yellow eyes stared at Lawrence.
“Hello, son!”
Chapter 39:
My love,
Must you always go on these long missions? Today our son took his first steps, and all I could think of is how great it would have been if we could have seen it together. I know you are just doing your duty and I know that you mean well. I will have a hot meal for you when you return home, my love. I pray for your safe return.
Eternally yours,
Elizabeth
- Letter from Elizabeth Sanctus to Jerreth Sanctus, 4 P.W.
Lawrence stared incredulously at the unkempt woodsman. The man who stood before him was a far cry from the clean-shaven, well-dressed Knight he remembered as his father. But there was a simmering glow of familiarity in the man’s eyes. His face was aged from the weather and from stress, his eyes surrounded by haunting wells of sunken skin. Something terrorized this man, and Lawrence was unsure how to react to his presence.
“Uuugghhh!” a ghastly howl came from Elizabeth’s prone body.
Lawrence was startled and immediately looked in the direction of the scream, remembering that his mother had caught the worst of the wurm’s attack. “Mother!” he shouted, dashing over to her position.
The woodsman quickly followed to join the two. “Elizabeth, by Sora’s grace, please forgive me!” the hunter pleaded, kneeling down by her side. It was as if he could sense the pain and agony that she had endured.
How would he know her name if he was just a stranger? Lawrence thought.
Lawrence looked down at his mother and could see the longing leave her eyes. They brightened immediately when she looked at the hunter. “Jerreth,” she whispered, straining herself, “I never thought I would see you again.” Tears began to well in her eyes. She slowly reached her feeble arms toward the hunter, attempting to embrace him.
She was hurt, badly. Her frail body had impacted against a thicket of logs and brambles. It was a miracle that she was still alive at all. “Mother, can you stand?” Lawrence asked, hoping for the best of the situation.
“No, son, let me be. I don’t think I can move right now,” his mother answered softly.
Lawrence felt awkward as he watched the stranger bend down toward his mother’s outstretched arms. How do I know he won’t snap her like a twig? Lawrence thought. He could see his mother whisper something that seemed to affect the man greatly. For a moment Lawrence could swear he recognized the gentle face of his father in the man. Lawrence could hear the man sobbing deeply as he watched him hold a tender embrace with Elizabeth.
Is this really my father? Why has he been here for so long? We have needed him.
The man carefully removed his muscular arms from around Elizabeth, being sure to guide her body to a comfortable resting spot. He wiped tears from his face and sighed as he looked at Lawrence. “My boy, my son, I see that you have become a Knight. I am very proud of the man you have become.”
Lawrence was overcome with emotion. They had been swelling inside him since his brush with the wurm, and this man’s declaration that he was his long-lost father was the catalyst. “How could you, you self-centered, self-righteous asshole!” Lawrence exploded, shoving the man out into the clearing.
“Lawrence, please listen to me, you don’t understand,” Jerreth pleaded, a hurt look in his eyes.
“I understand perfectly!” Lawrence retorted. “You left me and my mother to fend for ourselves while you deserted us. What sort of egotistical son of a bitch does that to his own family! Your wife is sick, you bastard! I’ve been taking care of her, while you were out hiding in the forest.” Lawrence rushed his father and pushed him again, harder this time. Jerreth did not mount a defense; he accepted the full effect of the push, like a punishment for his betrayal.
“Aaaaaahhh!” Elizabeth moaned, before Jerreth could respond to his son’s outburst.
The two raced over to Elizabeth again. “I can handle this, old man!” Lawrence exclaimed coldly. “I’ve been taking care of Mother just fine for the last five years!”
Elizabeth shot him a melancholy glance. “Lawrence, you must stop this, that is your father. Please forgive him. Haile needs you both now more than ever.” The words flowed from her breath as she exhaled deeply. Life vanished from her eyes. Her breathing stopped. Her head tilted back, her lifeless body slumping in Lawrence’s arms.
“Mother….Mother…Mother, plea
se,” Lawrence begged, kissing her cheek. He sobbed heavily, trying to delay the inevitable. He shook her gently, trying to get her to respond. The rays of sunlight that pierced the clearing were swallowed by the arrival of dark clouds. The birds stopped singing; the animals ducked under cover. The clearing was shrouded in a gray, still silence.
Lawrence sat motionless, clutching his mother’s body as he rocked back and forth. Some salty tears entered his mouth, others dropped off his chin. He cried uncontrollably. Please forgive him. Haile needs you both now more than ever. His mother’s dying words echoed in his mind. He felt Jerreth kneel down by him and place his rough hand on his shoulder. It strangely comforted him. The death of his mother overshadowed his own misgivings about his father. He could hear his father breathing heavily, his own emotions bubbling out of him.
“Lawrence, I am so sorry, for everything. I was so wrong to leave your mother and you,” Jerreth stammered in between heavy sobs.
Lawrence didn’t know what to do. He had longed for this moment for five years, the moment when his family could finally be whole again. He knew that if that happened everything would be fine, especially his mother. He had all but given up hope that it would ever happen, and now, it had. For a few minutes. The cruel reality of loss sunk into Lawrence, churning his gut, suffocating him, choking him. He struggled to respond as he didn’t know how to forgive this egregious betrayal.
“Why? Why did you leave us?” Lawrence asked as if he was begging his father for an answer that would lift the sorrow in his heart and repair their relationship.
“I was an arrogant fool, son,” Jerreth lamented. “I thought my convictions trumped everything. I was so convinced I was doing the right thing, I couldn’t understand the pain I was causing my own family.”
“Why didn’t you just come back, then? We never stopped hoping, never stopped believing you were alive,” Lawrence responded, probing deeper, trying to understand his father’s rationale.
“I was too ashamed,” Jerreth said, lowering his head. “At first I was so angry at the Knight Guard, at Haile, at Mayor Flint; I vowed I would never return. Anger consumed me. By the time I realized that I had forsaken my own family, I wasn’t strong enough to return and bear the guilt. I have thought of nothing but you and your mother every day for the past five years.”
Those last words socked Lawrence in the gut. He threw his arms in the air. “If you thought so much about us, then why did you abandon us?” he asked, laughing at the ridiculousness of the question.
“I….I…I don’t know. You know, son, I don’t even truly remember what I was mad about. All I do is regret leaving with all my heart. I live with it every day. I know that nothing I do will ever absolve me of this sin in your eyes. I just want you to know that I love you.”
Lawrence looked at the ground, at his mother’s dead body lying in front of him. He sighed deeply. His father seemed so conflicted, so broken. The strong, able, confident Knight that Lawrence had admired as a child had vanished, replaced by a deeply remorseful man who seemed to be desperately trying to redeem himself in his son’s eyes.
But Lawrence wasn’t ready to forgive, not this soon.
“Well, Father, what do we do now?” Lawrence asked after a long, somber silence.
“We need to give your mother a proper funeral,” Jerreth responded, standing. “She deserves a proper sendoff to Sora’s domain.”
“What about more of those giant wurms? Shouldn’t we leave?”
“They are very territorial, son, there isn’t another one of those beasts for a few miles. I failed your mother miserably in life, but I can at least start making amends for it by having a proper funeral for her now.”
Jerreth set about, gathering sticks and logs of different sizes. Lawrence watched at first, and then decided to help; not for Jerreth’s sake, but for his mother’s. At the very least he respected Jerreth’s attempt to honor Elizabeth. The men began to lay the logs in proper rectangle formation, creating a funeral pyre for Elizabeth. They took great care arranging the logs, placing the kindling in the center, creating a bed for Elizabeth’s corpse to rest on. They reverently carried Elizabeth’s body to the center of the mound of stacked logs and laid it face up on the pile of timber. Lawrence lit it. The fire grew quickly, embracing the kindling the two had acquired for it.
The two men stood in silence at opposite ends of the pyre. They didn’t speak, but both stared into the fire’s spellbinding aura. Tears streamed down their faces. The wood crackled as the fire raged hotter. The heat from it caressed their skin. The fire roared now, Elizabeth’s body being sent to Sora’s gates. Jerreth slowly walked around the pyre, coming to a stop next to Lawrence. He gently took hold of his son’s hand. He bowed his head. Lawrence followed his father’s lead.
“By the grace of Sora, accept the spirit of this loving woman, loving mother, and loving wife into your kingdom,” Jerreth proclaimed. “Keep her safe. Provide for her. Heal her sicknesses. Absolve her pain. Let her live on with you forever. In Sora’s name, we pray.”
Both men stood in reticence, the weight of the moment bearing on them. The billowing plume of black smoke rose up out of the clearing, a visual reminder to the tragedy they had endured. The fire lapped at their faces as they stared into its vast embers, its cracking and hissing a thorough reminder to the harsh reality that had occurred.
Lawrence looked quizzically at his father as the fire illuminated his defined complexion. “Tell me, Father, what did Mother whisper to you?” Lawrence wanted to know.
His father stared at the fire; he did not return Lawrence’s gaze. He was silent for a long while. He breathed deeply, trying to summon the courage to expose his most personal secret. More tears flowed down his cheeks.
The scene affected Lawrence greatly; he couldn’t remember his battle-hardened father ever showing emotion like this, even in the presence of death on the battlefield.
“She told me that she forgave me, for everything, that she still loved me,” Jerreth whispered, barely able to form the words as he choked up, his emotions finally overtaking him again.
Lawrence looked away as a tear formed in his eye. He admired his mother’s resolve now, more than ever. He struggled, however, to understand how she could have forgiven his father for his blatant selfishness. After all, so much of Elizabeth’s struggles were because of Jerreth’s unexpected desertion. Lawrence’s heart was heavy with sorrow, with anger, with betrayal. There was a long silence, as neither he nor Jerreth spoke. Elizabeth’s dying words replayed over and over in his mind. Please forgive him. Haile needs you both now more than ever. Lawrence yearned for the release of forgiveness to enter his heart, for him to feel that he could say those words to his father.
Chapter 40:
Smash and break
Pillage and take,
We’ll leave you with no Cryn.
Cut and stab
Snatch and grab,
We’ve come for your next of kin.
- Bandit Song
Benni raced east not looking back even once. One hand gripped the reigns of his horse, and the other was wrapped around Fairen, holding him close. He followed Nicholas’ instructions to the letter. He never fell off course, and before he knew it he was at the top of the first hill. His horse galloped faster now; he could feel the wind beating at him like a club as he crested the second hill. Faster still he rode to the top of the third hill where he looked down to see the small forest that Nicholas had spoken of. Without hesitation he rode directly into it, stopping only after he had disappeared into the sea of green. He was in bandit territory. Benni brought the horse to a slow trot as he and Fairen sat in silence for a long while. Benni heard Fairen sniffling and crying as they traveled on. He didn’t know how to comfort his little brother.
“Big Brother Benni, what’s going to happen to us?” Fairen asked timidly.
Benni had no idea what to say; his heart was still heavy with the realization that Nicholas and Helen were not really his parents. It took all of his courage
to respond. “We are going to be just fine, Fairen, just stay close to me. We’re going to get help.”
The two rode deeper into the woods until finally they came upon a totem. The large log stood at least three meters high in the air and was covered in arrangements of feathers and carvings and adorned with a large skull atop it. It looked to be the skull of a foreign beast with pointed fangs; its nature was unknown to Benni who examined the totem further. Many of the carvings were mysterious to him. Suddenly, a twig cracked behind them.
Benni turned around to see a man standing there. He was bald headed, tall, and muscular. He wore no shirt or pants, just a loin cloth. He held a massive club in one hand and a chipped bone shield in the other. The muscles around his torso were well defined, the mark of a strong warrior.
Benni removed his hand from around Fairen and whispered, “Stay here, I’ll handle this.”
Benni slowly dismounted the horse. His heart was pounding. He was about to face off with an outlandish enemy, unlike anything he had ever faced in Haile before. He had no idea what to expect. There would be no breaks, no chances to catch his breath, no holding back on the part of his opponent. As far as Benni was concerned, things had gone from bad to worse. He was now locked in a stare down with a warrior much like himself, a warrior willing to do whatever it took to win. The two circled each other in the clearing, pacing slowly, each step building the anticipation for their battle. Benni drew the longsword from his belt without breaking eye contact with the warrior.
To his left, Benni noticed a tree branch move. Another fighter emerged, armed with a similar shield and a short sword. It was rusted and nicked, showing heavy use. This man was also bald and had a large, jagged scar that ran from his right shoulder to his lower stomach. He was missing an ear and half of his nose was gone, cut as though it had been shaved down.
The Trinity of Heroes (I Will Protect You Book 1) Page 29