WORRLGENHALL

by Luke, Monica

  Looking this way and that he saw no one; then looked down and saw a note on the floor. The note informing him of a secret place to meet Ogorec, when the time finally came Ovfren dressed and hurried to him.

  Once there, he saw Ogorec patiently waiting for him by his horse, and as Ovfren approached him, his eyes went wide from how he looked.

  “Such a sight,” Ogorec’s said surprised. Ovfren’s eyes almost swollen shut and black. “I fear such toil you had seeing as you rode.”

  “I am angry.” Ovfren tried to frown, “Dare you let him shame me openly?”

  Ogorec shook his head. “And if I had defended you, all would know why.”

  Although, he grumbled, Ovfren jumped down from his horse and walked over to Ogorec. He knew he was right.

  “Remember this place,” Ogorec whispered, as he put his hand tenderly on Ovfren’s brow when he got to him, and when Ovfren winced, Ogorec took his hands and put them on the sides of his head before tenderly kissing one of them.

  After several tender kisses, he moved to his lips, and as Ovfren kissed him back, he held him.

  “Never have I loved another so deeply,” he said when their lips parted.

  “Nor I,” Ovfren said, as he began to undress Ogorec, “Or will I.”

  Once both were fully undressed, Ogorec pulled Ovfren close.

  “As you spoke before, long has it been for us?” he whispered, “Leave me weak.”

  “You need some strength to ride back,” Ovfren teased, “So I shall leave you with at least that.”

  “Aaaaah.” Ogorec smiled.

  Laying most of the night in the other’s arms, as the sun peaked, Ovfren woke; then looked for Ogorec who was dressed and saddling his horse.

  “Off without words,” Ovfren said as he stretched, then stood and walked beside a rock to relieve himself.

  As he did, Ogorec walked to him; then stood behind him and put his arms around his stomach and his head on his shoulder,

  “Remember this place,” he whispered in his ear, “When I give the word, come to it with haste.”

  Once done, Ovfren turned to Ogorec.

  “And when I give word of a place?” he questioned.

  “I will come to it.” Ogorec promised, as he now walked to his horse, then after a longing look to Ovfren, turned his horse and rode away.

  Chapter 17

  As commanded, Loth sold the men to a traveling band and the women to another, then he and the men rode back towards the mountain and because they rode hard, were quickly able to join Laad who waited for him just short of Orem.

  Once all gathered together again, they rode out staying off the main trails to avoid detection, then when they got close to the Mountain of Ash several men rode ahead to spy.

  “They live in caves within the mountain,” they reported, “And come out of it nearly none.”

  Laad stroked his chin, while he thought.

  “Such toil we will have getting them out,” he now thought aloud, “And will risk the lives of the men doing such.”

  As he stood and stared at the mountain, he thought of the life of nomad tribes and their rituals on days of seasons; then suddenly he remembered.

  “The blood moon.” His spark, as a plan of attack came to him. “The blood moon.”

  Loth looked at the oddly. “What of it?”

  “Our kingdom, long ago abandoned such practices as vile and against God, but many clans and tribes still worship in such ways, as we found out in that nomad clan,” Laad answered, “One ritual comes soon and with it there must be a sacrifice.”

  “Not everyone does rituals in the same way,” Loth skeptically said, “That nomad tribe for one.”

  “Sacrifice is sacrifice.”

  Loth looked to the sky. “What if they sacrifice within the cave our trouble is as before.”

  Laad looked to the sky as well, his mind thinking of the past nights and how each night revealed more of the moon’s ominous radiance.

  “I will wager they come out for this sacrifice,” his hunch, “To look at what they worship as it is done.”

  Loth nodded in agreement. “What is your plan?”

  Knowing the blood moon would rise in only a few nights, they planned their attack; then patiently waited for it to fill and illuminate the sky.

  Quietly, men following precisely the task given him, certain most would be preoccupied with the great ritual; were stealthily able to scurry alongside and up the mountain undetected.

  Once all in place, they watched, as men and women slowly came out of a secret mouth within it and to a large collection of stone columns surrounding a wooden pyre.

  What is this ritual?” Loth whispered, as he crouched.

  “I only now of what I have heard,” Laad whispered, “But if it is what was forbidden and abandoned long ago it has to do with blood.”

  In front of the pyre, combined within the meticulously erected stone stood an altar, where quietly the people gathered humming their synced ritual chants.

  “They look to be in a trance,” Loth noticed, as he looked down.

  Laad offered no comment, but only listened and watched, as slowly the chanting became louder growing in its intensity; then as if cued, a hushed silence came over all when two men and a young girl between them slowly walked out of the cave’s mouth.

  In calculated steps, the young female walked not bothering to look where her feet rested. While the one in front of her held high sideways a gruesome looking curved blade, kept to her pace, as she made her way to the stoned altar.

  When she walked by the people, again all chanted before their hands suddenly reached towards her, but as she looked to the moon, none touched her.

  “The moon calls for the sacrifice of life with the blood still warm within!” the man who led out of the mountain cried out to those congregated, “We shall willingly give it this night!”

  After he spoke, he walked behind the young girl whose face showed no sign of fear or anxiety, only an odd expression of relief, as she let out a soft sigh when the man carefully sliced open her throat.

  His hand upon her neck, he eased her head down onto the stone altar, and as her blood freely flowed into the hewn stone, it pooled into the crevasse where the men and women began dipping their hands into her blood and reaching for the moon.

  “Vile they are.” Loth grimaced sickened, as now he watched them cover themselves with the blood of the young girl.

  “The time is upon us,” Laad ordered, sickened as well, “Let your blades show no mercy to either men or women.

  Loth nodded and lit his torch, which was the signal, and with that, the bowmen stood revealing themselves. As they rained arrows onto the men and women; when they tried to make their way back into cave, the guilds on horse rushed down and ran many through quickly with their swords.

  As ordered, none questioned Laad’s command, striking down the men, and as the women tried to plea for their lives, the men struck them down just like the men.

  “Inside the cave,” Sok cried out, when all around the altar lay dead “Shall we go forth?”

  “Stop!” Laad cried out, now standing over the sacrificed girl.

  Laad looked down at her feeling both apathy and sympathy, unable to understand what made her willingly sacrifice own life for nothing other than the moon, which could neither speak, nor do miracles other than it turned mysteriously red.

  As he looked at her, he thought of Nona. Both young and filled with obvious beauty, as well as, what he had hoped with her and already knew well with his wife, abundance of optimism, it nauseated him that this was how they felt about human life.

  “Shall we go forth!” again Sok cried out, “Some made it back into the mountain.”

  “And may be waiting to strike,” Laad said, as he grabbed the torch they were going to use to light their pyre, “We will smoke them out.”

  Quickly, several men gathered brush and the piled wood, then lit a huge fire at the cave’s mouth waiting for the smoke to overwhelm them, and not long
afterwards, just as Laad knew, men and women who made it back in ran out gasping for air, and were quickly cut down.

  “Not all of them came out,” Loth shouted, “I believe there is another way out.”

  “Then seek it out,” Laad’s command.

  Within minutes, Loth was on his horse with a group of men riding the mountain trails looking for other entrances into the cave, but found none; then just as they were about to head back, suddenly men on foot and horses covered in ashes came charging towards them out of nowhere.

  “Curses!” Loth cried out, his eyes picking which he would strike first.

  When one of the guilds on watch heard the commotion, he rode farther out and peered over the side, noticing Loth and those with him in a fierce battle.

  “There were others!” he cried out, “And now Loth and the men are fighting for their lives!”

  Laad quickly jumped on his horse to ride to Loth, but as he did, a child ran out; then several more one by one, and when Sok lifted one off the ground by his hair, Laad spoke.

  “Gather them in one place!” he shouted his command, before he rushed away to help Loth, “And do not harm them!”

  Obeying, Sok tossed the child aside, and as more children ran out of the mouth, he grabbed them one by one, and like bales of hay stacked them together.

  Wasting no more vitals seconds, Laad and the men rushed to aid Loth and the others. Who, although outnumbered, managed to keep them at bay by furiously fighting the frenzy of what they suspected were mad men hacking at them any way they could.

  Not even able to take a breathing pause because the fighting was so intense, a pause finally came with the sound of Laad’s lead of horses clopped over the side of the mountain, as they struck down those they passed on foot left and right while charging down.

  Caught off guard briefly, they began to pull back, until a loud roar echoed off the face of the rocks. The roar the order to fight on, again frenzied the men fought, and although struck, run through, and bluntly hit, they did not cry out in pain, but instead merely fell silently to their death.

  “Madness,” Loth shouted, when he noticed it as he fought, “Madness!”

  “Such is true!” Laad cried out, as he flailed his sword moving to the next one, “We shall end this madness.

  Just as quickly as the men covered in ashes charged and fought, when one fell to the ground at Laad’s horses’ hooves he had he stuck down, was how quickly all stopped; before they began to chant words only they understood, and as they did, all parted to the left or the right.

  “I fear Laad just felled someone high,” Loth spoke aloud to a guild next to him because of how they reacted when he fell.

  Once they parted, a man twice the size of Laad galloped full speed between them. His horse covered, instead of just with black, with red just as he was, he wore a darkened burned skull on his head with two horns on either side, and never had any from Worrlgen seen such a bizarre sight.

  Spewing what they suspected were curses in his own language, Loth looked towards Laad who was about four horse lengths away realizing the beastly looking man’s charge headed straight to him.

  Holding a mace the size of a man’s head in his hand, he swung it effortlessly high above his head causing it to make a methodical intimidating swoosh sound against the wind as it built momentum to crush the bones or skull of his intended target, which was obviously Laad, Loth reacted quickly.

  His stare intent, his course fixed on Laad, as he charged forward Laad readied himself; but when galloped pass Loth, he leaped off his horse and pulled an axe out of one of the dead men’s hand and flung it at the man’s horse with all his might.

  “A mace is it?” Loth grunted, as he did, “Then on foot you will use it.”

  The axe sinking deep into the muscle of the horses’ muscled thigh. It reared back sending the man hurdling to the ground, and immediately Laad jumped from his horse, and again readied himself to fight him.

  The wind only slightly knocked of out him; he rose with a menacing stare at his target, and again began to build momentum above his head with the huge mace, taking steps towards Laad as he did.

  When the mace again twirled above his head, Laad rushed into action to disarm him as he built up his deadly weapon for maximum velocity, and before he could swing it, severed the chain with his sword sending the ball hurdling towards one of his own men before shattering a bone in his leg.

  After he looked at his now broken death contraption injuring one of his own, he snarled at Laad, pulled out his sword and charged him.

  High and low were the bizarre looking man’s flails at Laad who defended himself moving backwards unable t give any offensive flails of his own, and as their swords clang loud and intense several times, he tried to give Laad a deadly blow, but failed.

  His flails wild, he showed no signs of tiring, as the look of hatred in his eyes showed his intended resolve which was to kill Laad, and repeatedly he charged forward so driven that several times his sword was but a inch way from Laad’s face.

  When so close their swords locked, as his eyes stared back into Laad’s, he spewed words in his own language, before Laad pushed him back, then struck him across the side of his head cracking the skull he wore with the pommel of his sword.

  Spurring his muscles forward with his spewing curses, more than three times he charged Laad who again met each charge, but this time when he locked his sword with him, believing he would push his weight against him like before, Laad fell backwards sending the man hurdling over him and onto his back.

  With a loud thud, he landed on the ground; then when he tried to get up Laad acted quickly, got over him, and put his boot on his neck.

  Knowing he was about to die. He went to his death showing his hatred as he spat up at Laad, who immediately plunged his sword deep into his chest and as the others watched, when Laad triumphantly pulled his sword out, they began to run.

  “Spare no one!” Laad cried out, then lifted his sword high again, and after he cried out, Loth and the other band chased and killed them all.

  Not charging forward with them, Laad mounted his horse and returned to Sok who stood in front of the children, all grouped together wailing loudly.

  “Silence you little mice,” Sok yelled, his intolerance for children evident, “Or feel my hand on you!”

  “Enough,” Laad scolded him, “Children are children no matter how vile their mother and father may be.”

  Sok huffed, and sat on a rock, then after others gathered around Laad, all waited for his next command.

  “Our course, Lord Master,” one spoke out eager to obey.

  “Laad,” Laad chided, and looked at him disapproving, “Laad.”

  The man nodded; then turned and walked to stand with the others, but not longer afterwards, Loth appeared from the side of the mountain with his band.

  After riding next to him, he wiped his brow, then jumped off his horse and stood beside him.

  “The children,” Laad spoke, as he looked at them.

  “What of them?” Loth questioned.

  “They have no will over the evils of their mother or father,” he continued, “Yet they know of the practices they do and may turn to them when of age.”

  “Then what is your will? Sok asked, who was listening, as his impatience grew.

  “Take all of them to the monastery,” Laad commanded, and tossed a bag of coins to Sok, “To live until of age, and I pray they are converted.”

  “But Lord Baric,” Loth expressed his slight objection, “Took the children of the nomad tribe back to WorrlgenHall.”

  “That is true.” Laad knew why he mentioned it, “And I questioned not my lord. Yet, I feel a harmless seed can yield a poisonous fruit, and I will not plant one at WorrlgenHall.”

  When both were side by side and out of earshot of the others, Loth voiced something that bothered him, “Why did you not spare the women? They were helpless.”

  Concerned the deed seemed brutal. Loth did not look at Laad fearing his an
swer would bring a disapproving frown.

  Laad paused before he answered, and kept his words truthful, few, and simple in his reply. “There is only one God, not the moon, the stars, or the sun, which they worship in these plains. A festering plague is their belief to spread to those they come across, and it will not be at WorrlgenHall.”

  Pleased with his answer, Loth said nothing more about it. “What is our course now?”

  “Seal all the mouths of the caves we find,” Laad yelled to the men; then looked to Loth, “Our course is home.”

  **

  When the gates lowered Laad’s band of men made their way to the stables to leave the horses, then as Lord Master, he went to the quorum to give an account of how they dealt with the people of the Mountain of Ash and a scouting report, but late when they rode in, all had gone to bed.

  Certain his words could hold until morning, he didn’t call for a special meeting, and eager to see his loved ones, instead rushed to his chamber.

  So rapidly was his heartbeat as he did, he was certain it would burst, and his stride the pace of almost running, when he reached the stairs he slowed, and didn’t burst instead inside, not wanting to wake them suddenly.

  Quietly, he unlatched the door and saw his love soundly sleeping. Then, he walked more inside and looked over at his son, and at the vision beside him before gently lifting the precious bundle into his arms.

  “A daughter,” he whispered pleased, as right away her name came to him.

  After gently putting her down, he walked to the table; then quietly put away his sword and knife.

  “Such a smell is upon me,” he mumbled to himself, as he thought of their grueling steadfast journey home.

  Careful not to wake Nona, he undressed and went to the washbasin before diligently scrubbing himself free of dirt, sweat, and whatever he came across that may have stuck to his body; then as he turned, he stopped startled when noticed her leaning on her arm in bed.

  Nona watched him saying nothing and her golden hued hair resting to one side on her shoulder, when Laad looked at her face, he knew she would always be a vision of utmost beauty to him.