“What’s in the long box?” the sentry asked, holding his torch above the wagon to illuminate its contents.
“Those are wrapped cheeses,” Samoth said smoothly.
“Can I take a look?”
“I don’t want to break the seal,” Samoth said. “The cheese will spoil more quickly if we do.”
“All right,” the sentry said, turning away. “I suppose you will only feed the enemy another day. You may pass.”
Inside the long box, Thomas tried to shout, but the rag stuffed in his mouth muffled his voice. He tried kicking again, but each movement made the ropes cut more deeply into his flesh.
His heart sank as the wagon lurched into motion. Where was he headed?
Above the creak of the wagon, he heard Samoth mutter, “The road is free and clear from here on. James should train his sentries better.”
Thomas drifted in and out of consciousness. Voices spoke, but as if from another world. He did hear Samoth’s hired man ask, “Think we ought to let him out?”
“Why?”
“I need to stretch, and I thought maybe he did too. That is a mighty small box.”
“Are you getting soft on me?” Samoth asked with a snarl.
“Just asking,” the voice mumbled.
Thomas could hear nothing but the squeak of leather and the groan of wagon wheels on a rutted road. One bone-jarring bump melted into another. His aching body sought relief. Eventually he passed out, and oblivion brought the only comfort he could find.
Thomas awoke as the wagon rolled to a stop. Boots scraped on the wagon bed. The squawk of nails being ripped from lumber penetrated Thomas’s darkened mind.
When the lid was pried from Thomas’s confines, sunlight and fresh air flooded around him, giving him new hope. Blinded and dazed, Thomas heard a voice demand, “Get out!”
Rough hands jerked Thomas from his prison, slashed the rope that bound his hands to his feet, and stood him on the ground. His head felt light, and the world swirled before his eyes. Still bound and gagged, Thomas collapsed on the sod, helpless before his captors.
“He’s about done in,” someone said. Thomas tried to locate the man speaking.
“He’ll get worse if he doesn’t cater to the Lady,” Samoth said savagely. “I’ll see to it personally.”
“I thought you said you might need protection,” the man said. “Look at him. He’s too weak to stand up. I’ve wasted the trip.”
“We’re not inside Endor yet,” Samoth replied. “I don’t want him to escape. Once we get him to Endor, there will be no escape.”
“Why didn’t you just kill him?”
“I’ll take him to Maria. She likes to dominate the souls of men, and a corpse can do nothing to satisfy her. Besides, I would rather have Thomas suffer a haunting memory of his loss than obtain the instant forgetfulness of death. Someday he will see me on his father’s throne.”
The hired man stepped to where Thomas lay, drew his dagger, and with a deft movement cut the cords binding Thomas’s feet. “How about his hands?” he asked Samoth.
“Leave them tied.”
The man removed Thomas’s gag and then held a flask filled with dark liquid to Thomas’s lips. The liquid smelled putrid, and Thomas tried to pull away. Prying Thomas’s jaws apart, the man poured some liquid into Thomas’s mouth. At first it was cool, but quickly it began to burn. Liquid fire trickled down Thomas’s throat.
Thomas jerked violently, escaping his captor as he rolled across the grass.
“Ha!” the man laughed. “I didn’t think he had that much life left in him.”
Thomas turned, wild-eyed, to view his captors. A sour-faced man of huge stature accompanied Samoth. Both were laughing hard.
“Good!” Samoth roared. “See why I didn’t want his hands free? With that stuff in him, he might have fought us both.” He sat down on the cart, still laughing. “He’ll do all right now. We can get him into the city on his own feet.”
The hired man stooped to help Thomas to his feet, but Thomas went limp.
Samoth’s laughter died on his lips. “Is that the way you want to play?” he shouted. With one swift kick, his boot found its mark, and Thomas’s world went dark.
Stumbling forward, half-carried by Samoth and his companion, Thomas vaguely remembered the frowning entrance of Endor. He could hear laughter and jeers.
“What did you bring us today, Samoth? A comedian? He can’t even walk!”
“Good old Samoth,” someone shouted. “You never leave us without some entertainment.”
Not everyone mocked as Thomas staggered across Endor’s courtyard. There were those who eyed the newcomer with pity. He was one more soul entering their world of despair.
Thomas was taken to a massive building and dragged through many winding passages. When they came to a staircase, he was shoved down into the darkness. In the pale light of a flickering torch, Thomas watched a man unlock a door and swing it wide. A ghastly stench swept into the hall.
Thomas was pushed inside and hurled against the wall. Exhausted, he slumped to the floor. His bonds were cut, and his arms fell free. He heard a crack as if wood were striking bone. There was a flash of pain, and once again his world went dark.
Thomas awoke to the low moan of human misery. He did not know if he had uttered the sound or if others were near. Opening his eyes, he could see nothing. Have I gone blind? he wondered. In desperation he tried to rub his eyes, but his wrists were held to the wall by shackles.
Afraid and confused, he cried out, “Is anybody there?”
All sound ceased. Thomas was entombed in silence.
Slowly regaining his composure, Thomas became aware of a dull throbbing in his head. Leaning toward his right hand, he touched a large lump above his right ear. Gingerly his fingers explored the wound. Large as a goose egg, the top of the lump was open and oozed fluid.
“Keep quiet!” said a voice in the darkness.
Thomas jumped at the sound and asked, “Where are you?”
“Not so loud,” the man hissed. “Do you want the guard to come back?”
Thomas asked no more questions. If guards had put that lump on his head, he surely didn’t want to incur any more abuse from their hands. He sat silent in the darkness, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. He could hear the ragged breathing of people and the soft scurry of mice along the floor.
Suddenly, every sound in the room ceased when a key scraped in the lock.
“I tried to warn you,” a voice whispered nearby.
The door squealed on rusty hinges, and torchlight flooded the cavern. Nearly naked men were chained to the walls on every side. Thomas shuddered.
“Which one does she want?”
“That one,” a man said, pointing toward Thomas.
“Why this one?” the first man asked, jabbing his staff savagely into Thomas’s stomach.
“Hey, no need for that!” the other man said sharply.
“What does it matter?”
“Watch what you say. Such a comment could put you on the rack.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m real worried.”
“Besides, she prefers them alive, not dead.”
“They’re all as good as dead in this stinking hole.”
The chains fell from Thomas’s wrists, and he doubled over in pain. The same staff came down hard on his back, “Get up, scum!”
Thomas staggered to his feet, wobbled on feeble legs, and tottered toward the door.
Somewhere behind him, he heard a voice jeer, “Lucky dog!”
A tower soared above the dungeon where Thomas was kept, and in this tower resided the beautiful princess of Endor, daughter of Jabin. She bore a title unlike any in the kingdom. She was known as the Goddess of the Moon. Each month at full moon, Maria led her people in worshipping the gods of fertility and love. She was surrou
nded by guards and loving admirers, like Samoth, who would do anything at her bidding. Today was no different.
Alone with Samoth, Maria twirled before him and brushed her fingers along his jaw. “My prophet,” she cooed. “Did you bring me a knight in shining armor?” Her voice was soft and sensuous.
“Just another toy, my lady,” Samoth said nonchalantly. He tossed his shirt over the dresser and began splashing water on his face from the wash basin.
Though the light was dim, he peered for some time into the brass mirror that hung by the basin. He didn’t hear her movement, but suddenly he felt her cool fingers touch his naked ribs. Her hands encircled his firm torso and combed the thick hair on his chest.
“You’ve been away a long time,” she said.
He felt the warmth of her body against his back. “Absence makes the body fonder,” he said, turning to meet her moist, parted lips.
The two embraced, searching for the one thing they had never found: true love.
Morning found Maria alone. Samoth had departed before she awoke, and now she sat at her mirror, watching as a maiden combed her long dark hair. “Why doesn’t he stay?” she fussed.
The maiden did not answer but continued to comb and braid the Ravenna’s hair.
Maria stared glumly into the polished brass. “He loves me, you know.”
The brush caught in her long dark hair, and Maria was instantly defensive. “I know he loves me. Why else would he bring me servants? And he doesn’t just bring servants; he makes the servants love me. They want to serve me. They relish coming into my presence.” She tried to sound confident, but her voice was a little too shrill.
The maiden pulled the brush through the knots in Maria’s hair but did not reply.
Maria thought of the worship service and the clamoring congregation, everyone reaching out to touch her. It was so thrilling! She wished it wasn’t limited to each full moon.
“At least today is special,” she said. “Samoth brought another group of men for my royal guard.” She smiled to herself. She knew the only thing they guarded her from were lonely nights while Samoth was away. That happened nearly all the time nowadays.
Her guards were flirtatious, fun, and oh so loyal—just like so many slobbering dogs. They were no challenge at all.
“What I want,” Maria said boldly, “is someone who will resist me just to make it fun. I’m bored with these men who simply pant when they escort me anywhere.” Maria glanced in the mirror and caught the shocked expression on her maiden’s face. A haughty smile crossed her lips as she spoke. “I’m sure you don’t understand.”
The maiden said nothing. Blushing deeply, she busied her fingers with combs and pins, quickly shaping the Ravenna’s thick hair.
Thomas and nine other men stood in a waiting room high in the Temple of the Moon. Colorful tapestries hung on the walls, and large windows flooded the room with light. This group was awaiting the Ravenna’s inspection. Thomas’s situation had improved dramatically since he’d been removed from the dungeons below. He’d been fed and bathed, his hair clipped and his face shaved, and today he wore the scarlet breeches and white shirt of the court gentry. The wound above his right ear had been carefully treated, and he was nearly healed.
He’d understood little that had been said during the last few days, for the language of Endor was foreign to his ears. However, it seemed that several men from this very group could be chosen to serve as guards in the realm of the Goddess. He wasn’t enthused by the thought of serving a woman who thought she was divine.
Thomas glanced out the window to the courtyard far below. I wonder if anyone from home has a clue where I am, he pondered as he surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
Maria walked swiftly down the corridor amidst a flourish of petticoats and the soft whisper of satin. Four men escorted her, two carrying torches to light the hallway, and the others holding her arms for support. Behind Maria, a maiden carried her train.
They reached a doorway where Melzar, the chief jailer, stood bedecked in the stunning crimson and gold of Endor’s stewards. Bowing low, he asked, “Are you ready, my lady?”
“How many are there?” she asked.
“Ten, my lady.”
“Why so few?” she asked.
“There has been little time since your last choosing,” Melzar responded.
“Silence,” Maria demanded. Will I find anyone to resist me among so few? she wondered. Breathing deeply, she composed her thoughts and said, “I’m ready.”
A trumpet sounded, and Maria swished into a room where ten men stood awaiting her inspection. She was taken aback. These were some of the most handsome men she had ever seen, and her cheeks grew warm.
She could feel every eye in the room admiring her. A giddy sense of power coursed through her veins. She could choose one or all of these handsome men to accompany her, guard her, or protect her. And they all wanted to.
But wait! she thought. A flicker of doubt crossed her mind. Not all eyes were on her. One man stared straight ahead as if she hadn’t entered the room. Her heart beat faster: a conquest. “The gods have not let me down,” she whispered.
With cool deliberation, she walked along the line of men, admiring each one in turn. The longing in each man’s eyes gave her a sense of satisfaction. She knew they had never witnessed such grace and beauty before, and they longed to be a part of her court.
She finally came to the man who had garnered her attention. Breathing deeply, Maria studied him. Thomas stared at the wall as if he were made of stone. She stepped directly into his line of vision and studied his eyes. They were not glassy but clear and cool. Not haughty but calm and unmoved. In fact, he seemed to look right through her.
A flood of emotions poured through Maria. She’d forgotten the deep emotions of a conquest. Seductively, she moved closer to the nameless man. Her fingertips brushed lightly upon his cheek. She peered into his expressionless face. Bruises were healing under his skin.
With a wry smile, she spoke to the chamberlain. “Where did this one come from?”
“Some say he is a prince of Amity,” Melzar answered.
Maria caught her breath. Thoughts raced through her mind. My father hates Amity with a passion and has decreed that all from there should die, but I know there are many in the prison, and he does not seem to care. What would happen if I took a prince from that country into my guard, or maybe even to my own bosom?
She could feel color rush to her face. It was so forbidden, so wrong, yet so tempting. Trying to cover her emotions, she turned angrily to the chamberlain. “Melzar!” she stormed. “Why have you presented this man with bruises? You know I can have nothing defiled!”
“Time was short, my lady, and he came to me bruised and beaten. I’ve done the best I could with him in the short time I was given.”
Maria dismissed the entire proceeding with a wave of her hand. “Take this one back! I will interview him when he is fully healed. The rest of these men I will take into my service. Show them their quarters and instruct them in their new duties. That is all!”
Maria whirled to make her exit, brushing lightly against Thomas. She watched to see if he showed the slightest reaction. There was none.
With a great flourish, Maria’s petticoats rustled as she hurried from the room.
After the Ravenna’s inspection, Melzar led Thomas down to his own quarters in the prison and lectured him on the folly of spurning the Lady of Endor. For some strange reason he felt drawn to this young prince of Amity, and in the days that followed, he began to tutor Thomas in the language, customs, and worship of Endor. The young man proved such a willing student that Melzar began to share more and more of his time and knowledge with Thomas.
One day as Thomas walked the halls of the tower with Melzar, he asked, “Are there dungeons below us in this building?”
/> “Yes,” Melzar answered.
Thomas liked the old jailer. He had begun to think of him as a surrogate father figure. “May I ask you a question?”
“Speak your mind,” Melzar responded.
“Would you let me share your duties and lighten your burdens?”
Caution shaded Melzar’s countenance. “You wouldn’t try to trick me? Any attempt to escape will forfeit my life.”
Thomas frowned. “I hoped I had won your trust. A shared burden is lighter for both.”
Melzar narrowed his eyes, and Thomas sensed the man’s doubts.
On a hunch, Thomas suddenly asked, “Are you afraid of me or for me?”
“You are a very perceptive young man,” Melzar said. “If you must know, I am afraid for you. I was instructed to send you back to the Goddess when you were healed, but I am reluctant to do so. I’m hoping in time she will forget you are here. Now I must decide whether to let you help me.”
Thomas watched as Melzar struggled to reach a decision. “All right, let’s give this a try,” the old man finally replied. “Come with me.”
Melzar collected bread from the kitchen, and Thomas carried a pail of water as they descended from the prison into the dungeon beneath. The stench was awful! The smell of decay permeated the air.
The first cell they entered, Thomas feared he would gag while holding a torch and Melzar’s basket of bread. Melzar began distributing crusts of bread to each man in chains. They came to a man who hung motionless against the wall, and Melzar began to pass him by.
“Sir, shouldn’t we awaken him for his morsel?”
“There is no need, my son.”
Thomas bent, touched the man, and withdrew his hand in revulsion. “He’s dead!”
“What did you expect?”
“Shouldn’t we remove him?”
“I don’t have time,” Melzar answered.
Thomas was shocked. His mind raced. These were men, not animals chained to the wall. They had hopes, dreams, desires, and emotions that no other creature on earth could experience. To leave the dead among the living would dehumanize the prisoners into something akin to trash. Thomas could not imagine allowing that to continue.
Beyond the Fire Page 24