The Silver Arrow

by Larry Itejere

  “So what happened?” Samuel asked in a rushed whisper, the eagerness in his tone obvious. “I mean, in town.”

  Faray was at first perplexed by the question, but it dawned on him that Samuel had no idea what had happened; he had been absent. So he didn’t know what sort of danger they were in.

  “Father had gone to the smithy, and about an hour later dashed in through the door, startling everyone. He was breathing hard as he spoke, his face panic-stricken. ‘The town is under attack and we have to leave. Get some food and water now…hurry!’ For a second, we all stood there trying to process what Father said and when Mother moved, we all rushed into action, gathering basic supplies.

  “Father rushed into his room and came out with a sword. ‘Where is Samuel?’ he asked, hoping you were back from the lake. It hit everyone then that you were still out in the woods, but before we could dwell on it, Father continued, ‘I’ll get him, but we need to leave now.’

  “We gathered the basic necessities that we could carry before Father rushed us out the door. We were gone less than five minutes when we saw a bat-like creature heading toward the house. It made a high-pitched shrieking sound as it circled the house and then flew ahead. ‘Everyone take cover under a tree,’ Father said, ‘and don’t move until I tell you.’ Once we made it here safely, he went searching for you.”

  “I need to speak with Father,” Samuel said just before leaving. Faray remained in the same spot, watching Samuel as made his way to their father, who was carving a tree branch. He could see Samuel sit next to him and was in the process of having a conversation as their father picked up another stick and started carving.

  “So what happened in town?” Samuel asked once he had his father’s attention, and he told him everything, recounting the events that led to their current circumstance.

  “A few minutes after you left, I took the wagon to the smithy to have the right wheel checked and maybe replaced. You remember the one that gave us problems on our way home?” Samuel nodded, humming a yes as he folded his arms to listen.

  “The smithy was in the middle of his work when I knocked on the board to his shop.”

  “‘I’ll be with you in a minute,’ the man inside said absentmindedly. ‘Owen!’ the smithy called to his son, a young man who was older than Samuel by a year or two.

  “‘Yes, Pa…’ Owen replied as he stopped what he was doing with the grinder and walked over to Stan, his worn-out apron covered in soot.

  “‘I need this going for a few more minutes,’ Stan said as he handed Owen the tong, which he held in place. Owen was a tall and muscular young man with long black hair that extended over his ears. He started working with his father at the shop as a young boy, and his knowledge of the craft was comparable to his father. When his father wasn’t around, he ran the shop on his own.

  “‘If I’m not back in five minutes, it should be tempered enough,’ Stan said as he stepped away. ‘What can I do for you, Harold?’ Stan asked as he walked out of his shop while taking off his gloves.

  “‘There is a problem with the right wheel on the wagon, if you could take a look.’ I pointed to the area on the wheel. ‘I’m planning to move some heavy equipment tomorrow. I need to make sure this won’t be a problem.’

  “‘Of course,’ Stan said as he crouched down with his hand on a spoke to look at the wheel more closely. Stan was a stocky man with dark eyes and thick brown hair with streaks of gray in his bushy mustache and beard. His arms were muscular and well defined behind the rolled sleeves that came up to his elbow.

  “As he examined the wheel, Big Bart started fidgeting.

  “Bento soon joined, and they moved their heads and feet with unease. They seemed troubled, which was strange for Big Bart and Bento. They are the mildest farm horses we have ever owned. I walked over to try to ease their tension, stroking and talking to each one.

  “‘Something is happening over there,’ Stan said, pointing to the plume of smoke rising in the distance. ‘I wonder if that is why they are acting agitated.’

  “‘It looks like there might be more than one building burning, with that much smoke,’ I said, once I saw what the smithy was pointing to. ‘With that much smoke, I think they might need help keeping that fire under control.’ Stan nodded his head in agreement. We decided to go and see what we could do to help.

  “As we hurried toward the general area, which, from what we could tell, was around the town square, we heard the faint noise of a mounting crowd that was rising as we drew closer to the square. What was once the jumbled sound of an approaching mob soon resolved itself into a loud chaotic noise, as people ran past us, frantic and horrified. Most of the people were families with young children.

  “‘We are under attack! We are under attack,’ some cried, but the town bells never went off.

  “Stan and I looked at each other briefly, deciding what to do next as we were jostled back. We realized we didn’t have anything to protect ourselves, so I started looking for anything I could use as a weapon. I found a piece of wood by the corner of the street that was about four feet long. I tapped it on the ground to make sure it was hard enough. Stan, too, was looking for something he could use to defend himself, and he found a rusting rod.

  “‘Well, this isn’t much, but it beats having nothing,’ Stan said under his breath as we turned the corner to the main street, the path that led straight into the square. What we saw next stopped us in our tracks, and for a brief second we stood in shock and disbelief.

  “If this was a nightmare, it had come to life, and in the flesh was destroying the town. What we saw were creatures that looked like corpses with bloodless skin and cold blue eyes like frost. They had human forms, but willowy, dressed in ash gray and black. Hundreds of them, like bees in a hive, destroyed everything in their path as they made their way toward Stan and me. To make sure nothing survived, they split into two groups, with the second group coming behind the first to make sure nothing was left alive. Their monstrous facial features didn’t hide their thirst for blood.

  “The town could not be saved. We could only watch in horror as the invaders ran in and out of shops, destroying everything inside before setting them ablaze. Along the street were mutilated bodies covered in puddles of blood−people who were trying to flee or protect their loved ones just before they were struck down.”

  Those words sent flashes in Harold’s mind as images of the man pinned to the ground with his son while trying to protect him flooded his memory. Their still bodies had been held in place by the rod that was driven through his back.

  “Steven’s butcher shop, the mill, and everything on that side of the town’s square was set ablaze. They must have come from the southwest side of the town where no one would have been expecting anyone, much less an army.”

  “That is not possible,” Samuel said to himself, as if trying to deny the fact. Everyone knew that side of the pass was dangerous because of sinkholes that lay everywhere. It was literally unusable. If they had used the main pass, with how numerous they were, they would have been spotted a mile off, and it would have given the town enough time to evacuate.

  “They charged with a lust for blood, growling like wild animals, and in the chaos at the heart of the square, a creature stood watching,” Harold continued. “It was large in size and tall, with broad shoulders. It moved slowly, taking everything in around him, shrouded in his black cloak. A little breeze parted its cloak, revealing a red lining inside, before it pulled the cloak back in place. The hood on his robe was over his head, hiding his face, but not its catlike eyes or gray skin with claws for fingers.

  “Allan, who owned the shoe shop, did not make it. He was captured and brought to the man in the middle of the square, dropped off by the bat-like creature you saw fly overhead. The creature was black as tar and almost as tall as the hooded man in the middle of the square. Once Allan was on the ground, it took flight. The hooded man did not move, but pulled out a scroll from his robe, opened it, and showed it to Allan. I could
not see from our distance what was on the paper.

  “Realizing we too were in danger, I tapped Stan on the shoulder. ‘We’d better leave,’ I said, pulling Stan.

  “‘Yeah, yeah!’ Stan replied, shaking his head out of his stupor. We heard a scream behind us as we turned and began to run away. As we ran back, we saw Owen heading our way with a half-moon ax in his right hand.

  “‘We have to leave,’ Stan said, and Owen gave him a questioning look. ‘I will explain later, but right now we have to be as far away from here as we can.’ We started running again, with Owen joining us.

  “‘Be safe,’ I said to Stan before rushing over to my wagon. I unbuckled one of the horses quickly and galloped home as fast as I could.”

  Harold remembered thinking as he rode home that he only had a few minutes before the bat-like creatures would be upon him and his family−if it wasn’t already too late.

  Samuel turned to look at his family when Harold was done speaking. What was going to happen now? he wondered. Elye was sitting next to his mother, gazing into the fire, while Faray was still leaning against the cave wall. The place again fell into silence, broken only by the crackling sound of their little fire.

  It wasn’t too long after he went to sleep that Harold tapped Samuel on his shoulder. “People are heading this way,” he said in a whisper as Samuel cleared his eyes.

  Samuel could see his mother, Elye, and Faray were already up. As he listened, he heard it−the sound of footsteps drawing closer. It was clear that no search party would be about this late at night, which meant that the invaders were still searching for survivors.

  “I need some light,” Harold said in a whisper to Samuel. “Grab one of the sticks,” he said, pointing to the fire, “and come with me.”

  Samuel did and followed his father to the left side of the cave.

  Harold took with him the two sticks he’d been carving, from what Samuel could see. The sticks weren’t completely pointed at the tip, even though his father could try to use them as a spear. The shape at the tip was too flat, and the stick wasn’t long, either, so throwing it as a spear would do no real damage.

  A slope went down five feet at the corner of the cave, hidden behind a rocky mound.

  “Here! Bring it closer,” Harold said. As Samuel brought the light closer, he could see a circular-shaped wall just wide enough to admit one adult.

  It became clear to Samuel why the sticks were shaped the way they were as Harold started scraping the edges of the circle while he held the burning branch.

  Speaking softly to fill the silence, Samuel asked “What is this place?”

  “Actually, it’s not just this place. Chartum-Valley, a long time ago, used to be a mining town, and we are at one of the mining stations. It’s been abandoned a long time. I discovered this place as a boy.”

  “Why was it abandoned?” Samuel asked, the look of the place now making more sense.

  “Wives got tired of losing their husbands working in what was a very dangerous condition back then. Help me push,” Harold said, ending the discussion. The corner around the circle was visibly clean of the muck that was once around it.

  Samuel wedged the stick into the mound behind them, and they both leaned back and pushed with their feet against the circle. It took several attempts until it finally budged. Slowly they pushed it in until it fell, making a thudding sound.

  Harold had sweat on his brow as he turned to Samuel. “Get everyone over here,” he instructed in a low whisper.

  Whatever was outside was now directly above them, and they stopped moving.

  Elye was standing next to Celina, and Faray was standing alone, looking up. They stood frozen in their spots, listening and hoping the intruders moved on.

  And then they heard it. Footsteps. They were moving again. For whatever reason, they had stopped, but now they could hear them moving. The sounds started to fade, but before they were completely gone, the branch that was wedged into the mound came loose and fell to the ground, bouncing off the hard surface of the slope. It made a single clanking sound before Harold caught it.

  In Samuel’s mind, the single sound felt louder than their town bell. Everyone held their breath and Samuel could hear his heart pounding, hoping the sound wasn’t heard.

  Samuel beckoned his mother and brothers to come over, and, as they did, a single zipping sound zoomed in through the entrance. It grazed Celina’s left arm. She raised her hand to look at it when Elye, who was by her side, dropped to the ground.

  Celina turned to look at him and screamed, seeing the final resting place of the arrow that had grazed her. It had barely missed her, but struck Elye at the back, protruding from his chest. The jutting tip was glazed in blood. Elye began to spasm as Celina dropped to the ground to embrace him.

  Another arrow followed almost immediately as Samuel and Faray rushed over to their mother, pulling her and Elye away from the entrance.

  A thudding sound followed a second later, reverberating inside the mine. Something had jumped onto the ledge and was making its way toward them, then another, and another, and it kept going.

  “Get everyone out of here. Now!” Harold said in a raised voice, not caring if he was heard. They had found them and were coming for them anyway; he pulled his sword and ran to the entrance.

  Fear and anger competed for Samuel’s emotion as he stood there in shock. Faray pulled out his sword and rushed over to the opposite side of the entrance, his rage burning away the fear that once held him.

  “If you want to help,” Harold said to Faray, “see that your mother and brother are safe. Get them as far away from here as you can and follow the dampest parts of the cave. I’ll join you when it is time.”

  “Now go, and don’t wait for me,” Harold added more gently. Faray knew he was right. He had his younger brother and mother to protect. Disapprovingly, he returned to Samuel and Celina.

  Samuel could do nothing but watch his mother try to comfort his dying brother. She brushed her hand over his hair, trying to soothe him. Elye’s breathing was now in spurts as blood slid down the corner of his mouth.

  One of the bloodless figures jumped into the cave, but since the entrance was narrow, it had no time to defend itself against the quick motion of Harold’s blade that fell on it. It dropped to the ground as another rushed inside, swinging.

  Harold dashed forward, bending down enough to flip the attacker over his shoulder, and piercing the monster’s throat as it landed on the ground; its monstrous cries faded while others continued to make their way inside.

  Faray pulled his mother away from Elye’s motionless body as she tried to hold on. Samuel watched Elye lie peacefully on the ground with his eyes closed, as if any minute now he would wake up; but he knew this would never be. Elye was gone, and that deep sense of realization rippled through every part of his being. It threatened to drive him insane, but somehow, Samuel held on to a piece of his sanity that drove him into action.

  Samuel grabbed the burning stick even as the image of Elye taking his last breath spun in his mind. He rushed toward the hole, passing his brother and mother.

  He threw the burning branch into the hole and hurried through.

  Celina was held by Faray, who was unsure what his mother would do, knowing that at this moment she would rather stay and die with her youngest son.

  “Come on,” a voice said from inside the hole said as Faray backed in after their mother. He could hear monstrous screams and the sound of steel blades.

  “He has to make it,” Faray said to himself, fighting the urge to go and help his father as he dropped down deep inside the mine.

  Chapter 14

  Undelivered Message

  Iseac walked down the stairs dressed for travel with two envelopes in his hand. He placed one of the letters at the front desk before stepping out of the healer’s clinic. The air outside was nice and cool as he looked up at the sky.

  “The sun is going to be rising in another hour,” he thought as he looked out into his once
-so-familiar surroundings. Iseac closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of the fresh morning air. This place—his home—held so many wonderful memories of his past. He let the thought linger for a minute before opening his eyes again. In his heart, Iseac knew there was a chance he would not see this place again, but before leaving, he needed to do one more thing.

  Mosley, who was already mounted, watched as Iseac got on Durack.

  “Follow me,” he said to Mosley as he sent Durack into a trot.

  A few people were already up preparing for the day, and those who were out took notice as they made their way through side streets, staying away from the major roads. Soon they were on the main road, surrounded by an open field. They veered right from this road into a narrow trail, and fifteen minutes later, the wooded trail opened up into a farm. At the edge of the farm was a single house.

  The home was lit inside, which could be seen through the window as they brought their horses to a halt several yards from the house. Iseac got off Durack, pulled the other envelope from his saddlebag, and walked over to the house. Trying not to make any noise, he wedged his second envelope in the door.

  Mosley was watching Iseac from his horse as he did this; while he did not exactly know what was in the envelope, he suspected this was probably where Iseac grew up, his home.

  “We head for Bayshia,” Iseac said as he got back on Durack and they rode off, the farmhouse slowly fading behind them.

  That morning, when Elena arrived at the clinic, no one was on the main floor as she looked around. She had begun making her away upstairs when someone called her name. She turned her head to look over her shoulder and saw Gina standing at the foot of the stairs.

  “I have something for you,” Gina said, moving to the shelf by the stairs. She pulled out an envelope wedged beside a bottle of medicine.