Without warning, the earth began to shake. It was difficult for the pair to keep their balance and they both fell to the dirt. In front of them the ground began to split under the pressure of the shifting plates. There was no place to take cover from the falling rocks, should the walls on either side of them or the ceiling begin to crumble. Wider and wider the crevice spread until Silas could finally see that it was not an earthquake after all. The ground had opened up, and before them appeared stairs leading down into the darkness below. The shaking stopped and a dusty quiet fell around them. Silas and Gunther glanced at each other with a grim understanding that they might not make it out alive. With only slight hesitation they picked themselves up and descended into the unknown.
The further they went down, the darker it became. Soon, they were completely underground with no light, blind to what could be endangering them. The Eerie darkness clung to Silas’ exposed skin, sending a cold shiver up his spine. Once down the steps, the path narrowed. It was straight and void of any obstacles. This would change, Silas knew, but he felt relief nonetheless. Their chain clinked lightly with each step, serving as a warning sound to anything that might be awaiting them ahead.
As they continued their slow pace, the air began to feel lighter than it had only moments before and their sounds started producing echoes. In an instant, flames ignited on torches in a circular motion revealing an enormous room resembling a cathedral. Forced to shield their eyes from the blazing light, they knew their guard was let down.
Silas wondered who had lit the flames, but it seemed that they had caught fire by their own power. The two squinted through the light, letting their eyes adjust. Silas instantly noticed seven doorways leading out of the chamber. The one directly across from them was their way out. It led up the stairs and to the top, or at least this is what Silas was hoping. He pointed this out to Gunther and slowly crept toward the other end, hoping they didn’t fall into some sort of trap. As they neared the center of the giant room, the sound of swords being unsheathed and the tapping of boots on the floor caused them to freeze in place. Six black-robed figures emerged from each of the other doorways. Every masked man carried a sword and held it in front with a fierce and almost robot-like focus. Silas and Gunther were defenseless as the cloaked warriors moved in closer, cutting off their path to freedom.
Silas was startled by the sound above them as the ceiling began to crack open from the center. The gap widened and the sun shined brighter, illuminating everyone in the giant room. Soon, the crowd above them became visible and they erupted in cheers at the site of the cloaked swordsmen closing in on the captives. Silas shook his head to maintain focus on the coming fight, trying hard to ignore the chants from above.
The partners stood back-to-back watching every move of the slow approaching combatants.
“We may not survive today,” Silas said, “but what do you say we give this crowd a show trying?”
“What do we do?” Gunther asked.
“Just try to get one of their swords.”
“What? How?”
“Just follow my lead,” he said.
It was time to see if his grandfather’s training still held true in the afterlife. When the first soldier attacked, Silas caught the blade with the chain and twisted it around the hilt. The man was immediately disarmed and the sword landed in Silas’ right hand. He was in his element now. Stunned, the black soldier did not jump back as he should have and instead received a slash through the heart sending him lifeless to the ground. The crowd once again exploded into cheers of giddiness, not having expected to see a fair fight.
One attack after another, Silas was able to parry and stab, with Gunther occasionally shouting warnings of oncoming attacks from various men in black. The two worked like an engine and then a second man was down on the ground. Silas pulled the chain firmly and they both took off running at a pair of soldiers in black, clotheslining them to the ground. Silas spun around sending the blade through the man and Gunther crushed the other’s throat with his foot, causing the crowd to groan.
With two left, he and Gunther lunged forward to clothesline them except this time Silas slid to the ground and tripped up the feet of one of the soldiers, slicing him through the chest, and in the same fluid motion slicing the other’s neck. In the end, he and Gunther stood, covered in blood that was not their own, with six dead bodies at their feet. Every person in the crowd seemed to be focused on these two as some were jumping up and down with glee while others stood in stunned silence.
Gunther stared at Silas in disbelief.
“Where did you learn to do all that?”
Silas said nothing for a moment. “My grandfather,” he finally answered. They stood a moment to catch their breath. Silas had never fought six opponents before and he didn’t wish to do so again. He was surprised by his own strength and abilities especially since he had not been formally trained in more than two years. It must have stayed with me, he thought.
“I suppose I’m lucky to have become your partner,” Gunther said.
“It’s probably not over,” Silas answered, keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him.
They made their way to the door with the stairs leading to the top. Once they emerged from the top there was another loud burst of cheers and boos from those who were making money and those who were losing it. The noise resounding through the crowd at least proved that some person from another group was still struggling to survive. Ahead, they saw another large wooden gate like the one they had come through in the beginning. This time there was another guard standing in front of it. Silas hoped beyond all hope that the challenges were finished. He looked to his left and right and saw that the other two paths did actually lead to where he now stood. He hoped that the others would make it out.
In mid-thought, the man and woman emerged from the path to his right. They looked battered and bruised, but they were alive. It was several minutes before Dink arrived alone. The chain dangled from his wrist, dragging a bloody stump of an arm that looked to have been bitten off by something; a remnant of what used to be his partner.
Silas nodded at him then looked ahead at the guard standing to tell them the next phase of the gauntlet. None of them moved. Out of the one hundred that had begun that morning and the twenty of them that were called to the gauntlet, only five were left. What kind of hell was this place? What kind of person would make others go through these trials for no reason at all but to provide some sport? If this was any representation of what awaited them in Marenon, Silas wanted nothing to do with it.
The guard at the gate motioned them to come forward. The stinging pain in Silas’ shoulder served as a reminder of his injury. He applied pressure in hopes of stopping the bleeding, knowing he would need all the strength he could muster for whatever may happen next. They stood within feet of the guard, malice growing strong in their hearts. Killing him crossed all of their minds, but it was probably a futile idea. It would take only moments for other guards to rain sharp arrows down on them.
The guard held out an arm to quiet the crowd.
“You have made it to the end of the gauntlet,” he began, “and now you face your greatest challenge.”
Silas didn’t want to hear it. The patronizing speech would do nothing for them.
Why not just open the gate and send us to our deaths?
“Your greatest challenge is to become someone noteworthy in Marenon,” he said. “Many have gone on to great things and others have wallowed in fear and depression only to have a meaningless existence between here and the true afterlife.” He stepped forward and pulled out a set of keys to unchain them. “Do not become like those who went on to do nothing. Live here as true citizens for the king you now serve.” He paused. “You are the survivors. Welcome to Marenon.”
The gate opened slowly. Relief flooded through each of them as they realized that the gauntlet was finished. Gunther fell to his knees thankful he survived the day. Silas wanted to lie down and sleep for a few weeks. The five were battere
d and bloody, but they had held strong. Beyond the gate they were led up a path with people on either side of the railings, not cheering, not booing, but just watching, hoping to get a glimpse of the new five that were strong enough to make it through the gauntlet.
The five made their way to the end of the bridge where they faced hundreds of buildings with people scattered all around the city. Silas could hear a blacksmith pounding away at a piece of metal, men and women shouting out, selling their goods. Vendors were scattered about, setting up shop for the crowds who were exiting the gauntlet viewing area. The smell of spices and fire-cooked meat was the first smell of food any of the group had experienced in Marenon. Silas suddenly realized how hungry he had become. One vendor who was set up near the exit of the gauntlet shouted out to the group of five.
“Welcome to the city of Canor!” he said. “I’ve got maps of the city and the whole country. I’ve even got food here!”
Gunther, the woman and her partner walked over to the vendor only to be told that they needed money to buy something.
Silas looked at Dink. “What’s your plan?”
Dink stared at the ground, then to Silas. “When I was fighting my way through that thing, I remembered exactly how I died,” he said grimly. “I’ve got to figure out some things. My wife might be here too.” There was an awkward pause, and then Dink asked, “Where will you go?”
“To find my grandfather,” Silas said. Dink nodded, eyeing the ground. Silas wondered what had happened to Dink. Why was he here?
They stood quietly for a long moment.
“Well, good luck,” Dink said.
Silas grinned and offered his hand in friendship. “I hope our paths cross again, Dink.”
“Perhaps they will, Silas.” And without knowing where to go or what to do they both walked away from each other and into the city. Silas’ first need was to find some food. He was starving and had not been given the opportunity to eat in this afterlife. He left the other three to their murmuring as they despaired over not having money or a place to go. Silas knew his plan, but he had no direction. The city was busy, but it was not as his former world. Everything was old and looked as if it had come from a history book. The streets were crowded, not with vehicles, but with horses and people on foot. There was no modern technology in the city to speak of. This surprised Silas since everyone here had come from Earth hadn’t they? Were there no cars or electricity? From a distance, Silas heard a loud “PSSST!”
He turned to see a dark-haired man with a thin beard upon his gaunt face. He stood at the corner of one of the buildings in the shadows. After realizing he had been noticed, the man motioned Silas to come join him. Silas wasn’t sure if he should, but what was there to lose? If anything, he might be of some help. As Silas slid into the shadow of the building, the man spoke first.
“I saw you in the gauntlet,” he said. “Not bad at all.”
“Er-thanks,” Silas said.
“You had some good moves against the dragon and you seemed to go through the spiked tunnel flawlessly. I also saw you took the middle tunnel. You’re quite the fighter. You’ll want to get your shoulder taken care of, though.”
“What do you want?” Silas said.
“I’ve got a job I think you can help me with,” he said. “It pays well and the danger is nothing compared to what you just faced.”
“Thanks, but I’m here to find someone.” Silas turned to leave, but the man grabbed his arm firmly.
“Everybody starts out looking for someone in Marenon. Sometimes they find them, sometimes they don’t. If you help me on this job, I’ll pay you well, and I’ll help you find who you’re looking for.”
The offer sounded good, but Silas couldn’t shake the feeling that the man should not be trusted. He wrenched his arm away from the man and gave a questioning look.
“Who are you?”
The man stood straight and extended his hand for a shake and said, “My name is Alric Thirsk, what’s yours?”
Chapter Eleven
Alric Thirsk seemed a strange character to Silas at first. For the longest time neither of them spoke to each other, but Silas followed him through the whole city of Canor. He felt a little more comfortable after Alric stopped at a vendor to get Silas some food. He scarfed down the bread and meat that tasted like beef, but Alric told him it was meat from a morkrew. Silas wasn’t sure he wanted to know what a morkrew was. He didn’t ask, but Alric told him anyway.
“They’re a lot like cows, but fatter and they can barely run,” he said. “Sort of like living balloons that couldn’t quite stay airborne.”
The thought made Silas smile for the first time since his arrival in Marenon. After eating, he finally felt the surge of energy that his body desperately needed. The vendor that gave him food also offered to stitch up his shoulder. Silas thought this an odd combination of services, but he was not going to turn down the offer. After the painful stitching was completed, he and Alric continued on their way. Silas was no longer hungry, but he still felt battered. He just needed sleep. With unanswered questions still plaguing his mind, he finally asked Alric if all of the people in Marenon were dead as he was.
“All the Humans are,” Alric responded. “Right now we are in Canor. It’s a Human city. The only other official Human city is Farlaweer. It’s a five-day journey on foot, and that’s where the Human king resides.”
Silas felt a twinge of anger when Alric mentioned the king. “And he’s the one responsible for the gauntlet?”
The answer was evident by Alric’s silence. After a few moments of thought he spoke. “It’s nothing to be proud of, I know, but it’s difficult for the people to rise up against the king. There are so few of us here as it is and to be divided would make us vulnerable to annihilation. Most of us are too preoccupied with other things to worry about the death of dead people anyway.”
“It’s barbaric,” Silas said.
“It’s life in Marenon,” Alric responded with a shrug of his shoulders. “It was put in place about three years ago and it’s just something we all have to live with.”
“But why? Why would he make the gauntlet?” Silas was confused by Alric’s callousness.
“It’s a survival of the fittest mentality, I think,” Alric said. “His view is that if you get too many weaklings in here, using up all of our resources, then we’ll get wiped out. It is widely believed that we’re not even supposed to be here. The only rightful people in Marenon are the Erellens, and maybe the Anwyns. Somewhere along the way, the Stühocs came in and tried to make Marenon their own. Then there were the Nestorians and no one really knows what or who they are. I personally don’t care about any of it. I’m here and I’m going to do what I can to get by,” he said.
“Stühocs?” Silas said, remembering his last fight on Earth.
“Right, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of them,” Alric replied.
I’ve heard of them more than I wish, Silas thought. “What about those other groups you mentioned? They aren’t Human either?”
“Nestorians could be Human,” Alric said as they walked through the city. “They always wear wooden masks to hide their appearance. Theories about who they actually are vary. You’ll learn more about the Anwyns soon enough. And you’ll meet an Erellen tonight.”
Silas was baffled at the mention of so many different types of beings that were not Human. He was lost in thought for several long moments until Alric’s voice brought back his attention.
“As far as the Stühocs go, well, they’re scary buggers. If you ever see one, you’ll know.”
Tell me about it, Silas thought.
The day was fading and they soon found their way close to the edge of town. Alric told him that his residence was just on the outskirts of the city and into the forest a bit. It provided privacy as well as some room to stretch, he explained. Alric told him about his comrades that were waiting for them and how they began their band of mercenary work.
“It started with me and the Erellen you’ll meet
tonight, named Lorcan,” Alric said. “We wanted to search Marenon for ancient artifacts and sell them. We were pretty good at it too. It wasn’t long until word got out about our work.”
“Soon”, Alric told him, “our skills were for hire. Later, we came to the conclusion that we needed more qualified people to help us on our missions. We eventually picked up a girl named Inga and a muscleman name Coffman. And for this particular job we need a fifth person.”
“What exactly is planned for this job?” Silas asked.
Alric thought a moment then answered. “I think it’s best we wait and talk about it when we get to the residence.”
After several more minutes they made it past the city gates and onto a path in the forest beyond. A thought came to Silas as he remembered some of his earlier questions.
“Where is all of the technology, like radios or weapons or guns?”
“You’ll find none of that here,” Alric answered.
“Why?”
“There’s no use for it,” he said. “For one thing it doesn’t serve its purpose here like it did on Earth. There are a few conveniences that people haven’t given up. There’s still plumbing for the most part, but you won’t find airplanes or anything. In Marenon people want to better themselves. Technology was making people lazy on Earth.” Alric paused and they both stopped walking for a moment. “It also interferes with the magic.”
“Magic?”
Alric nodded. “Magic is what runs this land. It’s the lifeblood of Marenon and if technology were to advance, eventually all of the magic would be lost. The Erellens claim that much of it has been lost since the entrance of other races, but I think they are full of themselves.”
“Can you do magic?” Silas asked, intrigued.
“A little,” he shrugged. “The girl you’re about to meet is one of the best magic users I’ve ever seen. I can’t do anything even close to what she can do, but she’s shown me a few things. That’s why she’s with us.”
The Marenon Chronicles Collection Page 11