Lost Empire

by Jeff Gunzel

  Jacob rushed at him. “What the hell are you—” CRASH! A hard backhand from Eric sent him sprawling across the floor. Jacob shook his head several times as Jade rushed to his side. The room spun in circles as he tried to shake off the hard blow. With Jacob’s face cupped in her hands, Jade glared at Eric with fire in her eyes. His face was like steel, cold and emotionless.

  “But will you all really find justice in granting this thing such a merciful fate?” Using a fistful of hair, Eric whipped the disgraced woman’s head back and forth as he spoke. “She took the life of one of your own, and now she has earned the peace of a watery grave? Eternal sleep? That is mercy, not justice!” Energy and excitement began to fill the room. Calls for real justice and true pain rang out as fists pumped in the air. “True, I travel with this thing, but she has already served her purpose. And not once has she proved her loyalty to me.” The cheers only intensified. “I will be the hand of justice this day. Tie the whore to the mast!” He threw her face down on the floor before the cheering mob.

  Before she could blink, a dozen hands grabbed at every inch of her clothing. Many began fondling her breasts as they roughly hoisted her to her feet. Athel didn’t fight back. She barely even seemed aware of what was happening as the shouting men dragged her away and up the stairs. Najus just watched as she disappeared over the last step.

  Eric approached him quickly with a look that bordered on rage. “Get it. Now! Bring it to me.” Najus hesitated a second before nodding. He turned and all but ran into his private quarters, which were not far away. Eric just watched as his head began to spin. Everything felt like a dream as time inched along, like he was somehow watching from outside his own body. He was only faintly aware of Jade screaming in his ear as she punched his shoulder over and over. Jacob was yelling something in his face with a finger pointed at his forehead. Muffled gibberish was all he could make out as their mouths spewed nonsense in slow motion, though.

  Najus came back with what looked like a sword handle with braided black leather instead of a blade. He handed it to Eric without saying a word, never once meeting his eyes, then turned and walked up the steps. Eric coiled the cruel instrument around his wrist before following the captain upstairs as the foggy dream continued. He didn’t remember there being this many steps. It seemed to take forever as he put one foot in front of the other.

  When he finally reached the top step, Eric’s eyes went straight to Athel. She was now tied to the mainmast by two thick black ropes, one around her feet and the other across the back of her neck as she faced the pole, her bare back completely exposed. A great deal of her clothing had been torn away, perhaps more than was necessary.

  The winds blew hard as the sails whipped and rolled with the violent gusts. The sky had turned a greenish black, with some of the dark clouds moving in opposite directions. There was no doubt a violent storm was brewing. Many eyed the angry sky uneasily until they saw Eric, then he received their full attention. He didn’t say a word as he marched up behind her and unrolled the wicked weapon. He was only now seeing it up close for the first time.

  The length of the eight-foot whip was made up of black leather twisted around into a thick braid. The final two feet fanned out into five individual strands, each tipped with a hooked piece of razor-sharp metal. The sight of the cruel weapon chilled him for a moment, but this was not the time to concentrate on such trivial things. There was no time for weakness. I will do what I must.

  His voice rang out, “A watery sleep is a mercy you have not earned this day.” He cracked the whip in the air three times, making it snap just behind Athel’sear. “This very tool has humbled many who thought they were brave, many who felt they were somehow above the laws of our brotherhood. But on this day, it will feast on the flesh of a traitor!”

  With that he rolled it back and let loose. Five deep lines of red formed instantly across his friend’s back as she cried out. Without hesitation, he reared back and snapped it again. A loud sickening crack rang into the night as five more red lines crossed the others. He snapped it again and again as blood began to run freely from her back, making it impossible to make out any individual lines. With nearly every strike at least two of the hooked metal ends clung to her back as they bit deep. It took one or two jerks just to free them before sending them right back.

  Forked lightning cut a jagged path through the sky as he lashed her one last time. The bright, blinding flash lit up the deck. The men squinted then rubbed their eyes, as if that would dismiss the haunting afterglow. Only seconds passed before the heavy downpour began. The blood from Athel’s back thinned immediately in the heavy rain, exposing many deep ridges.

  She was no longer screaming, nor did she even seem to be conscious. The men who had cheered earlier now stood in complete silence. In fact, many had walked away with a hand over their mouths. Eric finally stopped and took a few deep breaths as he wiped rainwater from his brow. He held the whip out toward the quickly thinning group. “Would anyone else like a go? Anyone feel that justice has not yet been served? Now is your chance if you still seek revenge. Speak now!” Nobody moved an inch. Most eyes simply fell to the deck while others looked away all together. “Very well then. You there,” he pointed to a thin man in a red-striped shirt, “cut her down. I’ll take the whore with me. Not quite sure I’m done with her yet!” He forced out a shrill laugh. It was gut-wrenching, but he had to sell it. I will do what I must...to save her life!

  When the last rope was snapped loose, she melted down the pole. Eric scooped her up gently and draped her over his broad shoulder, then turned and headed back toward the stairs, all the while hearing the many whispers behind his back. The gruesome plan had worked, but not without paying a steep price. Athel would live to see another day. There is no turning back time. My soul can never be saved. With a heart so heavy it felt like lead, he thumped down the stairs with Athel slung limply over his shoulder. He was soaked to the bone, but he hardly noticed.

  When he got to the door, he hesitated a moment. No doubt Jade and Jacob were inside waiting for him, but no sound came from the room. It was deathly quiet. He turned the knob and slowly pushed back the door with poor Athel still draped over his shoulder. The room was dimly lit with only two oil lanterns placed at separate corners of the floor, their sickly flames barely running on fumes. Jade sat on the floor in silence, staring at the dying flame while Jacob rose to his feet. He marched over to Eric in three brisk strides.

  “Give her to me,” he said angrily. He reached up and cradled the unconscious woman’s head, then lowered her into his arms. His movements were slow and caring. He walked over to the bedroll he had prepared and lowered her down with her back facing up. Her hands were opening and closing now as she began to writhe and squirm. She was obviously now conscious and in extreme pain. Jacob lowered himself down to the floor next to her, whispering in her ear and trying to comfort her any way he could.

  Eric turned to face Jade. He had no idea what to say as her blank, emotionless gaze met his. He wanted to scream at her, scream out that there was no other way to save her. He wanted her to scream at him, to throw something at him, to show some kind of emotion. By the Gods, say something! But when he took a step forward, she took two back, never taking her eyes from his.

  His knees went weak. The pain was almost more than he could bear. The woman I love is afraid of me.

  Chapter 6

  Eric leaned back against the wall, his legs straight out and hands flat on the floor. It was getting late, and keeping his eyes open was proving to be more and more difficult. He watched as the other two worked on Athel’s wounds. As much as wanted to go over and help, he knew it was probably best to just stay out of the way for now.

  No matter which way he moved his head, it seemed their backs were always facing him. They also appeared to be working their hands very hard all of a sudden, more like kneading a piece of dough than tending to someone’s wounds. Faster and harder they moved as their shoulder blades moved up and down, popping and cracking w
ith the forced effort. “Guys? Hey, is everything OK?” he asked as he watched on with rising concern. The two ignored him, continuing to work at their feverish pace. Pushing...pulling...their frenzied effort only intensified as grunting and groaning now joined the popping sounds. “Hey! What are you guys doing? Hey, is she Ok?”

  They abruptly stopped their rapid movements and held still for a moment. Then their heads suddenly twisted back to face him as their bodies remained forward. Their faces held a clear resemblance to Jade and Jacob’s features, but their skin looked like gray porcelain covered with white cracks. Deep-set, bloodshot eyes stared back at him. “Why don’t you ask her yourself!” shrieked Jade in a shrill, unfamiliar voice while her lower jaw clicked up and down like a wooden puppet’s.

  Athel sat up straight with a series of loud clicks, as if someone were winding a watch. Eric found himself staring at a white polished skull with black beaded braids fanned out wildly. The clicking jaw worked away in a random pattern, not matching the words coming out. “Did you think I would find this better than death?” A flood of black beetles began to flow from the open jaw, crawling down her neckline and back up into empty eye sockets as wicked laughter filled the air.

  He sat forward with a jolt and opened his eyes, drawing in a sharp breath. There he was, still sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, just like before he fell asleep. He nearly froze at the all-too- familiar scene before him. Both Jade and Jacob were down on their knees attending to Athel. If they had noticed him jolt awake, neither one showed it as they continued their work. A light knock came from the door. Eric caught a chill as he rose to answer it, realizing for the first time that he was damp with sweat. He assumed some of the moisture had to be left over from the earlier rain. This couldn’t all be sweat...could it? After wiping a hand across his forehead then drying it on his shirt, he opened the door.

  There stood Najus wearing dark green britches, a tan buttoned shirt with long sleeves, and black leather vest. On top of his head sat a black hat folded in on one side, rimmed with a gold band and silver buckle. He stood there in silence, seeming like he was waiting for Eric to speak first. “How is the girl?” he finally asked—a simple, harmless question that didn’t match his hard stare at all.

  Eric pondered the nature of the innocent question as he took his time deciding how to answer. There was no doubt Najus was a clever, worldly man whose every word most likely had a double meaning. But the real question was...whose side was he playing on? He was a man of business and in all likelihood didn’t take sides, but that didn’t necessarily mean he could be trusted. “I’m not sure, to be honest with you.” He turned and gestured toward the three of them. “Those two have been tending to her the entire time. For now, I thought it was best to just stay out of the way.”

  Najus peeked over his shoulder, then nodded his understanding. “A wise decision, I’m sure. Come; walk with me. Let’s leave them to it.”

  Eric glanced back over his shoulder. He could see Jade applying brown herbs from a small bag hung around her neck. He had seen her use those same herbs on herself once. Wounds that should have taken a week to heal were mostly gone in a day. He allowed himself a weak smile at the thought of Athel benefiting from that miracle cure, and could only hope her results would be similar. “Sure, let’s go.”

  Najus lead them through the main room where a few men were still hanging around, each sparing no more than a glance toward the two as they marched up the steps. It seemed Eric had more than earned their respect. Funny how feelings of respect and fear could be so easily interchanged. “I assume you’re not afraid of a little rain,” said Najus with a wink.

  The heavy rain now contained small bits of hail and seemed to blow in all directions at once, swirling in tight circles like mini tornadoes. Tiny bits of ice bit hard into Eric’s face as they moved toward the side railing, but he made no effort to shield himself, and flinched only here and there when one hit him squarely. The ship was rocking hard now as it bobbed up and down at uneven angles. Wave after wave seemed to launch upward, exploding in a burst of white with each crashing assault. Black clouds blanketed an angry sky as they seemed to roam in different directions against the greenish black background.

  Eric leaned back against the rail. His roaming eyes fell upon the mast where Athel had been lashed merely an hour ago. His stomach lurched, forcing him to turn and face the angry sea with white, foaming waves bursting high into the air. The two of them looked to be standing at a bar in a warm inn, as opposed to being in the middle of a raging storm being blasted by the elements. Strangely, Eric found this to be far more comfortable than sharing a warm room with his closest friends. For now, anyway.

  Najus spoke into the roaring wind as his eyes scanned out across the endless sea. “I have to say, lad, you’ve earned my respect. You saved her life, you know. Even though the situation was truly a matter of life or death, few men would have done the same. I can’t imagine where your head must be right now.”

  Eric scoffed defiantly. Of course the act had cut him as deep as any blade. Part of his humanity had been crushed forever. Not just for committing the vile act, but also for having to sell the emotions as if he had enjoyed it. The grizzle seamen had to believe he had wanted to do it, to push it past the limits of their own dark desires to the point where the wretched dogs even felt sorry for the girl. It had been the only way to ensure their anger toward her wouldn’t resurface again. But these dark realities were now his and his alone, to keep buried deep in his heart, never to be a burden on the ones he cared for, and certainly not to be shared with a man he hardly knew, a man whose true intentions were still not yet clear.

  Eric threw his head back with a snort. “The girl is still indebted to me. She has valuable talents I won’t have wasted at the bottom of the sea. Simply put, she’s worth more to me alive than dead. If and when she no longer proves useful, I’ll throw her into the sea myself.” By the Gods, where does this end?

  A half smile turned up a corner of the captain’s mouth as he stood there in the storm with both hands pinning his hat tight to his head. His shirt and pants rippled wildly as they flapped away in the hurricane- like winds. “Very well then. Have it your way,” Najus shouted over the increasing winds as he turned away and started back towards the stairs. He then stopped and turned back briefly. “You know, you remind me of myself when I was young. I don’t think I would have trusted me either. But I offer you word of warning, lad. You can’t hide a heart as big as yours any easier than I could hide a mountain.” He paused a moment as Eric eyed him curiously, still not sure what to make of the smooth-talking mercenary. “You know, Queen Ilirra went to great lengths to ensure your safe arrival in Shangti. I don’t know all the details, but I would never doubt her motives. All I know is an extraordinary woman thinks you are something very special. Go inside and get some rest. Don’t worry yourself about this little...setback. Being a friend is not something one does only when it suits them. She was your friend before, and I trust she still is. Good night, Eric.”

  Eric watched the man glide back down the stairs before turning his attention back to the angry sea. The massive ship seemed to be no more than a toy for the breaking waves to toss and throw at their will. He hardly noticed as a driving wind hammered bits of rain and ice across his quickly numbing face. Lightning crackled across the sky every few seconds, illuminating the deck in a series of bright flashes. It was clear his attempt to appear cold and detached from the incident hadn’t fooled Najus at all. Luckily, it also seemed that Najus had no intent of using that against him. No matter, as long as the rest of the crew had believed his ruse...

  A hand on his shoulder broke him from his trance. He whirled around to see Jacob standing there with his usually spiky hair now soaked and matted down flat. “I can see you’re enjoying the fine weather and all, but perhaps you might want to come back inside before you...oh, I don’t know...die,” he shouted over the whistling wind.

  “How is she doi—”

  “S
he’s fine,” his friend said, giving him a playful punch in the shoulder. “She is tougher than you and I combined. More importantly, she’s alive...thanks to you. But I’m not sure how much longer you’ll be able to make the same claim unless you come back in right now.” Now for the first time really feeling the cold sinking in, Eric didn’t need any more coaxing than that.

  The two nearly sprinted back down the stairs. The main room was dark and empty now. All the men had piled into their shared rooms for the night. It was clear no one was going to sleep out on the deck this night. Jacob was the first to enter their room, with Eric lagging behind. The two of them resembled drowned rats, soaked to the bone and shivering like leaves. Athel was sitting up now and talking to Jade, but the sound of the door opening silenced them both.

  Jacob walked right between them, reaching out and giving Athel’s shoulder a light squeeze as he passed by. “You girls better get some rest,” he said before flopping down on his bedroll laid out in the corner. The girls nodded absently, more to each other than to him, then turned toward Eric, who remained standing in the doorway. His first impulse was to look away, but he couldn’t. His eyes bounced back and forth between them, wishing someone would speak. Say something. Tell me you hate me; that you wish I was dead. I’ll accept that. But say something!

  Jade patted Athel’s knee before standing up. Her blank expression never changed as she glided across the room and stood before him. A long, lingering silence hung in the air as she searched his eyes...his soul. He braced for the inevitable assault, but would gladly welcome it when it came. Instead, she melted her arms around him, placing her head on his chest. She showed no regard for his dampness as she held him tight. “I didn’t think you had it in you,” she mumbled into his chest.