Dark Age

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Dark Age Page 12

by Felix O. Hartmann


  “January 10th, 2095 or 45,

  I have come to my end. Blood has been exiting my lungs, and I can feel that I won’t be there to see my seventieth birthday. To whomever finds this book, and I pray it enters the right hands, promise me to learn from the mistakes of our fathers. Promise me to end this bloody violence. Promise me you will be different. A man should not embrace death, with the sole wish to exit this forsaken world and return to his loved ones that have been ripped from his arms too soon. The clock is about to strike midnight. What follows is uncertainty and a whole lot of darkness. But be assured that once the day breaks, light will reign… till that late hour rises again.”

  Chapter 16

  My eyes were rushing over the pages, reading them again and again, trying to soak up the very last bits of information I could have missed. As much as everything made sense, I was more confused than ever before. This might as well have been a fantasy tale made up from the imagination of the wildest madman.

  Before I could sort my thoughts, the angry voices of Flatnose and his companion called my name. Quickly I stowed the book into my pouch next to the picture of Amber and Lizzy that Winston had held in his dying moments. I looked around, wondering if I would ever find this room again. Often I thought about how life would have been if I had opened the gate and drifted into the abyss of the past, but too much had been holding me back at that moment.

  I ran towards their voices so that they would not find the possibly last remains of the Gate Watchers. When I made a turn I bumped into them, and was greeted with surprising relief.

  “Thank God you are alive. Terric is back and we are in big enough trouble already,” he said out of breath as he pulled me by the sleeve. “Let’s go.”

  For at least ten minutes they guided me through the tunnels, until I was perplexed at the fact that they had not lost orientation, “How do you find your way around the mines?”

  “It’s simple. You enter the mine through one of the many entrances. This is entrance 1. The first turn you take leads you into tunnel 10, 11, or 12. Then from 10 you turn into 100, 101, or 102 and so on. You can find the number of the tunnel on the top of each entrance. It’s hard to see sometimes because its small, but they have to be small since the numbers can get quite large.”

  Terric must have been really upset. They were uncomfortably friendly all the sudden compared to the dirt-like treatment I received last time I saw them. When we exited the mine I was welcomed by the rising sun. “How long was I in there?” I asked.

  “We brought you in Tuesday night… now it is Thursday morning,” the skinny one responded.

  “What did you do in there all that time?” asked Flatnose. “That was plenty of time to find your way out.”

  I did not want to tell them about the book, “I was knocked out for quite a while and then got lost in the tunnels. Eventually I gave up on trying to find an exit.”

  Interestingly enough, three horses awaited us at the exit of the mine this time. No longer was I forced to run besides them, but was treated as if they were trying to regain my favors. The clean air filled my lungs and slowly removed the burning sensations that had plagued me ever since entering the mines. Through the morning light we rode across the plains, over the river, towards the settlement. As our horses strutted onto the platform before the officer house, a dozen guards had assembled around Yorick and Terric who were having a wild argument.

  “These men reported that you unilaterally sent a recruit into the mines. Are you out of your mind!” yelled Terric at Yorick.

  “You will not talk to me like that in front of my men,” Yorick hissed at Terric, “I have told you before, it was a mere misunderstanding. I had nothing to do with this,” Yorick added defensively. “Ah, look here they are.”

  Terric was visibly relieved upon seeing me. His composure relaxed, and he turned towards the door, “Let’s take this inside. Yorick, Adam, and you two good-for-nothings follow me.”

  Entering the house I could feel the tension in the air, like the poisonous gas in the mines. We walked up the stairs towards the officer living spaces. Terric waited for all of us to enter, and shut the door behind us.

  “Now Adam, tell me what happened,” he asked.

  My glance passed between him and Yorick, the latter of which looked at me like he would kill me the moment I left Terric’s sight. Despite this game of fear, I told him everything, how he stopped me, how I responded, how he killed the horse and banned me to the mines.

  Terric called in a guard that was waiting at the door, “Go check the stables and tell me how many horses we have,” he ordered. “In a few minutes we will know the truth. Yorick I give you one last chance to confess.”

  “I told you before, none of which the boy says is true. Ask those two idiots themselves! Did I ever give you the order to escort Mr. Blacksmith to the mines?” Yorick asked Flatnose and his companion.

  They looked at one another for a moment and then at me, “No it was our doing, Master Terric. It was just a prank among friends.”

  “We are not friends you dirty liars. Why then did you tell the miners that you received direct orders from Master Yorick?” I asked angered.

  “We felt threatened by them as they had drawn their swords. It was just one big mistake. We are deeply sorry,” Flatnose said apologetically with his eyes facing the floor.

  The door opened up. The guard had returned from the stables, “33 horses, Master,” he reported briefly before disappearing behind the door again.

  “Then we are done here,” Terric said.

  “So how are you going to punish them,” I asked with triumphant zeal.

  “They will receive service-long stable duties, for impersonating orders, and entrapping a fellow guard. Yorick will face no punishment however, as he spoke truth. The number of horses has not changed since I had left,” he was quiet for a moment, “which means that you will receive one year of unpaid kitchen duty for lying to an officer in an attempt to incriminate another officer. I apologize, Yorick.”

  Shaking his head, Yorick walked out, closely followed by the two others. I still stood there baffled by what had just happened. The door fell shut and I was alone with Terric.

  “Is there anything else, Adam?” he asked coldly.

  “You know as well as me that Yorick was lying. Why would I make up such an elaborate story? I would never lie to you,” I said filled with indignation.

  Terric was silent and looked through a book. After a moment he looked up at me and responded, “What I believe matters little. I can feel that Yorick was lying. But in a fair society, I cannot make judgments based on a hunch or a ‘feeling’ I have. That would not be justice. We looked for the facts, and unfortunately the facts were on his side. I am sorry Adam.”

  “You are just afraid of him, like everyone else,” I growled at him.

  “I am not afraid of anyone, boy. But when I am dealing with Yorick I have to use correct judgment or I am risking my entire authority. Thanks to Yorick and his dirty games I am already walking on thin ice. I might be first-in-command, but I know that when it comes down to it many of the man would stab me in the back upon his order.”

  “I am sorry Terric,” I said after a long pause. “There is something else I have to show you.” I pulled out the diary from within my pouch, “I found this in the mine. It’s the diary of one of the Gate Watchers.”

  “Lower your voice you fool,” Terric said seizing the book from my grasp. “You should not have found this, and even less kept it. Every second you carry this on you, you are one step closer to your own grave. I have known boys like you that found things that were not meant for their eyes, and they began telling people. Before you knew it they died in an ‘accident’ or were found in a ditch the next morning.”

  “But we have to let everyone know about the truth!” I prayed to Terric. “What about Africa, maybe we can still escape this doomed valley.”

  “Africa, Asia, Australia, I have heard it all. They came to Central Europe thinking that t
hings were better than America. It’s all a lie. And even if it isn’t, there is nothing we can do. The moment you open your mouth, you are a dead man. Just promise me, that you won’t talk about the past with anyone. I’ve thought about mending the future with the past. But as we try it, we lose the present. Do it for the girl, she misses you dearly,” he said handing over a letter. “Sometimes we hold the world in our hands, but in our greed for more let it fall, losing everything that we once had.”

  I let his words sink in and opened the letter that Katrina had written me:

  My dearest Adam,

  My words cannot match yours in their beauty, but I reflect all which you have said. Your parents, Eric, and everyone else are off just fine. Not much has happened since you have left, yet it seems like one eternal blank in my life. I miss you. Nothing has been the same without you. Sometimes I go back up on the Mount. I sit there alone, waiting for your hands to emerge onto the rooftop. At every celebration on the city square I sit on the sidelines looking for you in the crowd, waiting for our dance to be repeated, ending in that long passionate kiss I live to feel again. I pray for you every day, and await your return.

  Farewell my love,

  Katrina

  I folded the small piece of paper together and stared at it gravely. “I will stop thinking about it; for her,” I told him. “For now.”

  Chapter 17

  The final months of my training passed like the leaves that began falling from the trees. By now the Guard was both my new family and home. Like a natural cycle, old faces disappeared upon finishing training, only to be replaced by new recruits that filled the cottage. This change was so constant, that on its face my environment was unchanging.

  My newly received kitchen duties forced me to get up even earlier, to have breakfast ready before any of the Guards were up. At the very least it helped me bear with the growing loneliness I felt. Handing out the bowls, I got the little social interaction I needed. Most of the recruits knew and greeted me, yet I knew few of them. I had lost enough in my young life to realize that every face I risked befriending set me up for more pain in the future.

  The common-hall vacated as I finished cleaning the last dishes. In the back room I changed and headed outside to the training grounds, where the recruits were readily lined up, waiting for their team leaders to start the warm ups. They were waiting for me.

  “Let’s go,” I yelled at them angrily. “Start moving, and for the next hour don’t stop!” I had never been a loud person, nor an angry one, but when it came to waking the inner beast in a group of young men, force and dominance was necessary. Only when I pushed them to their limits, they realized that they could do so much more than they had imagined.

  After the warm up I took the third trimester students to the training grounds. We no longer practiced regular sparring, but instead prepared for extreme situations. In case of an ambush we were advised to return to the outer wall as quickly as possible to gain more support. To practice this, a recruit was surrounded by five other hostile recruits, and had to fend against the attackers while making his way to the other end of the training grounds safely.

  Many were beaten in the first moments, unable to defend themselves against the enemies striking from all sides. Others tried to run and almost made it, but were stopped by a faster enemy that caught them off guard.

  Entering the center, I looked into the eyes of each of my foes. My sword, real with blunt edges, lay softly in my grip as I walked in a circle.

  No one had moved. They expected me to take the run. To their surprise, I rammed my sword into the ground and looked at them with a blank expression. Confused the five looked at another, but none let their guard down.

  From behind, a recruit charged at me. As his sword slashed out for my chest, I dodged and disarmed him in a matter of seconds. I pushed him to the ground, holding the blade to his neck. He yielded and exited the training ground. With my right hand I pulled my own sword from the ground, extending each blade into an opposite direction.

  The remaining four nodded at one another and attacked. With the twists and turns of a dancer I fended off their blows, waiting for them to make mistakes. A bulky recruit over six and a half feet tall was the first to make one. His sword loomed above his head, ready to strike me down. With a rapid thrust, the tip of my blade dug into his chest protector. Angered, he lowered his weapon and yielded.

  The other three would not yield. I would have to beat them till they could no longer walk.

  A slight dizziness began to cloud my sight. All the twisting, turning and dodging had taken the air out of me. While I knew I could keep fighting after being hit, I could not allow it. I had to know that I could fight without getting slashed into two pieces, because out there the swords would not be blunt.

  My two weapons began to weigh me down. With fully tensed biceps I struck out left and right, bringing two of my opponents to the ground. The third one ahead of me was ready to lunge at my unprotected body. But before he could do anything I dropped my swords and jumped him, smashing his body to the floor. Pressing my knees into his chest, I flung my fists out at him until he yielded.

  Slowly I got up from his shaking body and tensed my hands to crack the knuckles. With calm and controlled steps I walked across the training ground. Nobody was chasing me, so there was no need to run anymore. The other recruits started applauding me, but I did not look back.

  My feet carried me off the training ground toward the river I had once crossed when I left the city. I knelt down and washed the sweat and blood from my hands. The different colors rushed away down the stream and left me with a clear reflection. The thin layer of fat that separated a healthy child from a starving one was gone. My jaw and cheek bones had become more prevalent, giving me an older and colder look while my entire body had transformed into a fighting machine of nothing but raw muscle covered by skin. I had not yet given up shaving, but the stubbles alone changed my appearance. The boy that once roamed the city streets was gone.

  The gates were mere fifty feet away. If Katrina were to sit on the Mount, which we never dared during day time, she would have been able to see me. And if we both were to stand at the gate, I could have heard her voice. Many people are separated by distance, but all that separated us was time. A few feet that could not be crossed in nine years.

  As afternoon drew closer I headed back to the training fields where I would complete a physical fitness test with Terric and Yorick. I was challenged on speed, condition, and strength. Once I had completed all tasks, the two came together and whispered each other a few words, before announcing to me that I had passed them all with excellence. Terric grabbed my shoulder with a smile, “You’ve done well Adam. I am proud to have seen you grow so tremendously over the past year. Since you are a Blacksmith, you are zoned for the mines.”

  Images of Elias flashed before my eyes. I saw the cart carrying the boy with the burned skin. Under no circumstance would I go back underground for the next nine years to suffer a fate like my brothers. The feeling of suffocation from my night in the mine returned to my lungs. Sickness filled my stomach. I wanted to throw up.

  “Are you alright, Adam?” asked Terric with the voice of both a soldier and father.

  I took a breath, “I was the apprentice for the carpenter. I would like to work in the woods. If possible in the same camp as Peter and Nigel.”

  Yorick glanced at Terric with questioning eyes, outraged that I dared to make requests, but the latter affirmed my wish with a smile, “the fresh air will be better for you.”

  Later that day, when the sun was about to set, I left for the cottage to get cleaned and dressed for my celebration. Unlike the aristocratic outfit of my summoning, I wore a simple white shirt with the eagle around my neck.

  Entering the common-hall I was tackled by Peter and the others who had already been waiting for me. He put his arm tightly around me and held a mug of beer high in the air with his other hand. “I have a toast for this young man,” the room hushed as Peter be
gan to speak aloud. “For all of you that don’t know, Adam completed his Training today! He’s a man with the attitude of a wolf, the mind of an owl, and the character of an eagle. A true fighter, that has not lost his reason. There are so many things I could say about him, but it would be rude to keep him waiting so long for his well-deserved drink. Today Adam we celebrate you! Raise your glasses with me!” Peter lifted his mug and hit it against the others’, while whispering, “Good luck out there brother.”

  We were the last party to leave, and stayed until the kitchen aids stopped serving us any beer. After months of being the last remaining recruit from my group of friends, it was good breaking the loneliness with such company. Peter, Stephan, Nigel and James, all of them certainly had their odd quirks but I knew that it would break my heart if any of them died out there. But death was the last thing on my mind. That night I rejoiced; I rejoiced in life and I rejoiced in my friends.

  Like in the first night and the many thereafter, I could not sleep in the last either. When the images became too grueling, I made my way out into the cold and climbed up the ladder to the palisade.

  Terric welcomed me with a nod, “Smells like your friends treated you to more than one drink. Try not to fall off the wall. You wouldn’t be the first man to reenter the city on a cart because of stupidity.”

  We both started laughing. Nothing was particularly funny, but we both could not help ourselves. “You know,” I said, “I always used to climb on top of a roof with my girlfriend and watch the stars.”

  “Oh boy, just don’t make any moves on me now,” Terric joked around.

  “While you are not quite her, in more than one way, I appreciate the many conversations we had the past year,” I said. “Thank you for all that you have taught me.”

  He nodded in reciprocation, adding, “Sometimes the master learns more from his student than the student from his master.”

 

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