Legends of the Brethren: The Sampler

by Susan Skylark

A Matter of Conscience

  Goblins were crafty enemies, the most devious of the unthinking creatures, and on this occasion they proved themselves more than a match for their unfortunate prey. They had taken to the trees that closely overhung the minute trail that was the only road through this part of the Untamed Wilds. Few travelers ever expected to find trouble from above and in this case, the assumption proved disastrous. The creatures had lain in wait for an unwary passerby and then fell upon him with all the viciousness of their kind. They could smell the unicorn, no matter his visage, for he was not masking his scent hoping it would drive off the less daring predators, but a pack of goblins was anything but timid. They fell upon the hapless creature without pity or mercy, neither being a characteristic of their kind, and it was not long before he fell with a terrible scream and faded from existence. His rider was not so fortunate and once the main threat was abolished, they could take their time with their remaining prey. However the fall had rendered him unconscious and this lessened their triumph significantly; they were even worse than cats in their delight at killing their prey slowly and with much torment. Some hooting, howling, and grunting soon decided the matter and one of the younger of the horrid brood was left to mind their victim while the rest went to cause more trouble elsewhere; the young brute was to summon them back at the first sign the man was waking.

  Trilby lay lost to the world, he had suffered several bite wounds and deep scratches from his now absent hosts, but none were imminently vital though he was in no shape to attempt an escape from the awful pack. Help must come from without or all hope was lost. And it seemed hope might not have fully forsaken the stricken man for it was not long after the pack’s retreat that another rider came down the same trail. The young monster hooted in alarm and raced off into the brush to rouse his companions for he dared not face such a menace alone. The rider drew rein, stared off after the retreating beast knowing it would soon bring more of its kind, and quickly surveyed the situation. It was obvious the man was injured but how badly was anyone’s guess, at any rate the whole deadly pack of perpetrators would soon be along so there was little time to waste. He dismounted, searched the abandoned saddlebags idly wondering where the man’s horse was, and took anything of interest or value amongst the luggage. He took up the injured man’s sword lying forgotten some distance away, thinking the poor fool would soon have no use for it, and then he turned his scavenging attention on the man himself.

  He searched the pockets and belt pouch of the stricken man and then hurried back into his saddle as he heard the raging fury of the horde descending quickly upon him. The horse needed no urging and gladly ran for all he was worth away from the wretched beasts. Trilby had started to stir when he sensed the stranger’s presence nearby and watched in stunned horror as the stranger rode away without a thought for the man he left to die behind him. There was no more time for thought; the monsters were upon him. A great brute of a male stood upon Trilby’s chest in all his ugly glory, howling and carrying on for all he was worth. He leant down and stared deep into Trilby’s eyes with his own piggy specimens. Trilby lapsed again into darkness before the monster struck.

  A mist of deepest purple and darkest blue surrounded him yet the clearing in which he found himself was neither vague nor dark nor menacing; little lights like errant fireflies wandered about in the nebula about him, echoing the sense of utter peace found in this place. If it were a dream, it was more real than even waking life had been. He wondered from whence that stray thought had come and smiled slightlyknowing it to be true. He was no longer alive as mortals considered the matter but neither was this what he had expected once life had ceased. He was not in the mortal world but neither was he in the Master’s bright country; where was he?

  “You are Somewhere and Nowhere and Everywhere,” came the answer from the Voice that called the stars into being. Trilby suddenly found himself kneeling before what to many men was myth or foggy legend: the Master of All. He felt fear certainly, not mortal terror but something of the smallness one feels when facing mountainous heights for the first time. Perhaps sheer awe was a better word. He felt very small and insignificant yet quite astonished that such as He would address such as himself. The Master seemed to know his thoughts and chuckled quietly at his servant’s conundrum.

  The Great Unicorn said, “certainly I am much greater than your mind can comprehend and brought Everything into being, but how can that mean that you are too small for my notice and attention? If I am great enough to birth all things, cannot I also be great enough to know all things? The movements of the smallest insect and most insignificant bird are of interest to me, how then can the fate of my dear thinking creatures be any less significant? You are mine willingly and therefore have nothing to fear in my presence. You wonder what this place is? It is neither Here nor There; it is a place that simply Is because I wish it to be. I snatched you out of time before those fell creatures could have their way with you because I have a task to set you thus you have not yet entered my country.”

  Trilby looked upon the Great Unicorn curiously, wondering what strange task yet lay before him. Those great eyes so full of sorrow and greater joy looked upon him and said, “the man that failed to lend you aid in your moment of greatest need will soon find himself hounded relentlessly by his conscience. You are to be there when he finally begins to ask questions rather than trying to hide from his past. Long have I called to him but just as long has he ignored or run from me. Soon there will come a day when he can no longer choose to turn from the darkness and it shall consume him utterly. You will offer him at least one more chance.”

  Trilby’s eyes were wide with surprise, “I am to live again and follow after him?”

  The Master shook his great head in amusement and said, “nay child, but in dreams and visions his guilty conscience will see you until at last he comes to ask how he might be free of such pains.”

  Trilby smiled wryly, “I thought ghosts lived only in legend.”

  The Master said grimly, “I allow no spirit to wander at will. Some I send abroad on errands of my own, but no restless ghoul is allowed to roam at large. You are no ghost, but quite yourself and solely a messenger doing my bidding. Once you have accomplished your task you shall return to your proper place.” Trilby bowed his head in acknowledgement and suddenly all was black about him.

  Zark rode swiftly away from the grim pack feeling only terror for his own skin, little thinking of the man he had left to die horribly behind him. Finally, the horde far behind and the horse near exhaustion, Zark slowed to a saner pace. Evening was swiftly coming on and Zark happily turned in at the miniscule inn that appeared before him in the midst of a tiny village. There was little traffic in this part of the Wilds but there were enough locals to keep the inn in business, if only through the sale of alcohol. He turned the exhausted animal over to the stable lad and eagerly sought the common room for some much needed rest and refreshment. Zark had no interest in supper, but had a bottomless thirst for the local brew. After his third mug he finally began to relax after the day’s harrowing trial. He began to think over his ill-gotten plunder though the thought did not bring much joy to his haggard face.

  The man had little of value save his sword and a few odd coins. Worse, the thought brought a terrible reminder of the fate to which he had abandoned the man. Certainly he was a stranger and might have put himself in mortal danger had he stopped to help; what right did the fool have to demand aid of Zark at such a time, especially at such a risk to himself? Zark consoled himself with this grim logic and another mug of ale. Well past midnight and swaying with the aftereffects of drink, Zark made his way towards his room. In the feeble light of the candle, he saw a face in the mirror that drained all the color from his own, dropping the candle in his terror. He picked up the struggling flame before he set the inn afire and stared with horror again into the mirror but saw there only his own ragged and wan visage. He laughed t
remulously, blew out the candle and sought his bed.

  Long did he lay awake wondering if it was simply a trick of the light and his addled nerves or did he truly see a ghost? Trilby stood in the room, apparently unseen by mortal eyes, save perhaps as a brief reflection in the mirror. Trilby watched the man frantically set his candle upright before flinging himself desperately into bed, after which Trilby suddenly vanished. Over the next several weeks, only moments to Trilby’s senses, the apparition appeared again and again for brief moments reflected in mirrors, standing water, and even the still surface of a mug of ale. Zark was a mess. He was desperate to rid himself of the vision, but the more he drank the more often it appeared. He tried to ignore it and his own conscience but the latter gained a greater voice with each glimpse of the apparition. He rode to other inns, tried to avoid reflective surfaces, and tried never to be alone, but ever the vision and his own mind reeled with desperation and guilt over what he had done. Finally he fell into a deep sleep, exhausted with his own feverish guilt and endless anxiety.

  He was not surprised to find the ghost in his dreams. Zark said to the figure, “why must you haunt me? You have driven me near to suicide with your endless appearances and my mind is fraying at the edges! I have done nothing wrong so leave me in peace.”

  Trilby smiled, “had you done nothing wrong your conscience would not be bothering you and brief glances of me would in no way unsettle you.”

  “You are dead,” whined Zark, “can you not leave the living in peace? What power have you over me or what can I do to rid myself of your presence?”

  Trilby laughed, “I gain nothing by haunting you, as you would call it, nor have I any way to influence you for good or for ill; neither can you do anything for or about me. I however can tell you how to rid yourself of this inexorable guilt.”

  The man was desperate for peace but skeptical about such an offer from such a source, “and who is to say I have done anything wrong? I would have gotten myself killed had I waited around to help you!”

  Trilby said, “then why does your conscience bother you so?”

  Zark growled, “you tell me, oh man who knows my conscience so well!”

  Trilby nodded calmly and sat down saying, “if you had been in such fear for your life, you should have taken one look at the situation and ridden on in terror. Cowardly certainly, but perhaps justifiable in the circumstances, but you did not simply ride on, you lingered long enough to take any valuable trinkets and then fled without a second thought when it became clear your own life was in danger. If you had time to rob the moribund you certainly had time to render aid even if you failed in the attempt.”

  Zark sighed, “very well I am guilty as you suggest. Now what am I to do about it? How am I to rid myself of your awful presence and the nagging guilt of my own heart?”

  Trilby smiled gently, “you can do nothing but the Master can certainly heal the most grievous wounds of heart. It was he that sent me thus.”

  Zark scoffed, “so some character out of the storybooks sent a ghost to guilt me into confessing his existence? I think not. My soul shall not be blackmailed thus. Neither do I believe in him you claim to have sent you. Be gone fell spirit and leave me in peace.”

  “You are wise not to trust this lying ghost,” snarled a strange and vicious voice, “he wishes nothing less than the total annihilation of your soul!”

  Zark backed away from a great, two-legged reptile with flaming eyes that suddenly appeared in the midst of his dream. While Trilby’s presence unsettled him, this monstrosity chilled him to the bone. “What have you to do with me?” gasped Zark.

  “Believe him not,” said Trilby grimly, moving to stand between Zark and the monster, “he is a fell servant of the Nameless One and certainly not to be trusted.”

  “And who are you to treat with me fool?” snarled the beast, “your master shall one day bow to mine and then you shall not escape your due. Leave this pitiful creature to me, the sphere of the living is no longer of consequence to you!”

  Trilby said grimly, “the Master has sent me thus and so shall it be until he draws me back. I will not yield for the likes of you.”

  Zark said to the serpent, “and what has your master to offer if I do not like the words of this deceased prophet?”

  The serpent hissed rapturously, “why power undreamed and freedom from all fear, guilt, and anxiety.”

  “What must I do?” asked Zark skeptically, “must I lay my soul at your master’s feet as some might demand of me?”

  The creature scoffed, “you have only to reach out and take it; my master cares nothing for such groveling as some would ask.”

  Trilby said, “that is because his master gains your soul regardless, unless it is in the Master’s keeping! You need not acknowledge him master yet he is your master nonetheless.”

  Zark sneered, “I am a logical man and not prone to fits of fancy, especially as encountered in a dream after such anxious days and much drink. I will bow to neither of your schemes and must therefore work through my fits of conscience in my own way.”

  Trilby said quietly, “you may quash your conscience or deaden it but that will not spare your soul from eternal darkness nor from much pain and sorrow while you tread mortal soil. The Master alone can spare you from both if only you will humbly submit to Him.”

  “You are a fool to ignore me wretch,” sneered the serpent, “this pathetic ghost can do nothing to touch you in the mortal world, but my master has servants who lack no such talent. You will submit to me or you will not live long hereafter.”

  “Enough!” shouted Zark, “both of you blathering apparitions be gone and leave me in peace. I need no superstition in my life and I certainly shall not succumb to such fanciful threats as these. Be gone both of you!”

  “You have been warned,” laughed the serpent, “submit to my associates in the near future or regret it for all eternity.”

  Zark asked, “and what awaits beyond death for those who submit to your dark master?”

  The serpent hissed mysteriously, “they find the reward appropriate to their service.” It laughed darkly and suddenly vanished.

  The bitter chill left Zark’s bones and he looked again to Trilby, “and what of you? Will you continue to haunt me all my days? I shall not submit to such strange logic. I must deal with this thing myself and I need not your Master’s pity nor forgiveness to do so.”

  Trilby shook his head grimly, “ware the monster’s words for he is right in saying darker days are coming. The Master is ever there if you are only willing to seek him. I shall bother you no longer.” Suddenly Zark was alone in his own mind and his dreams turned to things dark and frightful that vanished upon waking.

  Zark awoke the next morning refreshed and finally managed to ignore the raging voice of his conscience, which eventually fell silent or became an unheard thought in the darkest reaches of his mind. He had done what any rational, self-serving human being would have done. The man was certainly doomed, there was no logical reason why he should share that fate, nor why the spoil should be left to the mindless brutes. He laughed to himself and continued upon his road with a lighter heart; the dark warnings of the reptile were soon forgotten but they were not in vain.

  Trilby found himself again in the swirling mist lit throughout with the flitting lights, tears stung his eyes as he knelt again before his Maker thinking himself a failure. He could not raise his head to meet those fathomless eyes but he felt himself drawn to do just that by a power he could not deny. He found there love, such love as no mortal heart could fathom and sorrow far greater than his own. "Weep not child for you have not failed me," spoke that voice so gentle yet so firm, "we can only offer, it is for each thinking soul to accept or deny Me as he or she will. I will not force myself upon an unwilling soul yet neither can I draw them back once they have irrevocably denied me. Come, there is one last chance you can offer our reluctant frien
d, perhaps this time he shall choose wisely. You ride again into mortal danger and either way, your sojourn shall be short among the living. Neither shall you go alone." He smiled deeply and joy tingled in the air while the flitting lights quickened their danced. At the familiar whicker, Trilby turned his head to look upon his dearest friend and sundered companion: the unicorn that had preceded him in death.

  He flung his arms joyfully around the great beast's neck and the creature greeted his friend just as enthusiastically. Content in their reunion, both looked upon the Master who said, "this ride shall be short, but for one soul's sake it is vital. I shall certainly ride with you."

  Trilby pulled himself into the saddle and the unicorn screamed in eagerness, pawing the air. A small rent appeared in the mist like a window upon another world. Together they dashed out of the quiet peace of the Master's presence again into the mortal world of sorrow and grief. It was a dark night and the moon was low on the horizon but there was light enough to see a lone rider with half a dozen dark horsemen in close pursuit. The unicorn came quickly upon them and momentarily sent the clumped horses into a panicked frenzy while their riders struggled to maintain control. The exhausted horse of their quarry ran all the faster at the terror just behind him, but he had not the endurance to go much farther. He collapsed in a sweaty heap in the midst of a clearing, throwing his rider who hastened to his feet with sword drawn. The imminent threat past, the pursuing riders again gained control of their mounts and followed after the menace that had just appeared to interfere in their schemes. As they raced madly into the clearing they drew forth their bows and felled the terrible creature with arrows; again the unicorn screamed in agony and vanished from sight. Trilby stood, shaking his head grimly, wondering how often the poor creature must die thus. He drew his own blade and stood betwixt the dark men and their prey.

  “Spare his life if you can lads, as he will come in handy tonight if things proceed as they must,” laughed one of the dark men as they dismounted and drew their swords to confront their prey. Trilby wondered what on earth they were talking about but planted himself firmly between the approaching men and poor Zark, who was white as death from the harried chase and the realization of who was defending him.

  “You!” gasped the man, “I thought you had no power over the living.”

  Trilby laughed grimly, “I live again, at least for the moment, though it is likely neither of us is long for this world. Remember well what I have said, for tonight you may forever rue your previous stubbornness.”

  Zark growled, “I want no part of anyone’s superstition, least of all yours.”

  The leader of the dark men said, “we will certainly kill your friend here man but you need not share his fate. Join us and your life will be spared, else you can join him in an unmarked grave.”

  Zark sneered, “what right have you to pursue me this night and interfere with my previous plans. I just want to be left in peace.”

  “Sorry lad,” laughed the man, “orders are orders. We could care less for such a paltry thing as the rights of the individual. Now will you be joining us or will this be the end?”

  Zark snarled, “I will not believe in your nameless master.”

  The dark man laughed, “you need not believe, simply obey.” The men kept their distance but they had no qualms about using their bows at close range. Three bowstrings sang in the night and Trilby went to his knees grimacing in pain; arrows protruded from both of his legs and his abdomen. “Take him,” ordered the leader. Two of the dark men approached the wounded man; Trilby had not the strength to defend himself and they easily captured him. “Now what of you?” laughed the evil man, “you have one choice left to save your life. Kill this fool, promise to obey our orders, and you shall not only live but gain power unimaginable. Well?”

  Zark grinned sardonically, “I have no wish to die. My conscience has already haunted me with my part in this man’s death, why not give it something to be truly upset about? I still do not believe in your grim master but the power you speak of is tantalizing and surely better than death. I shall submit to your wishes.”

  “Do not do such a thing!” gasped Trilby who only earned himself a bloody lip for his trouble.

  Zark laughed, “finally I can put my past to rest, at least as it concerns yourself. I give you back to the Master who has sent you and given me such pains in the process.”

  They handed the man an ugly dagger and Zark heard the dark man say, “kill him and seal yourself to our cause, gain power undreamed!”

  Zark laughed hopelessly, “I hardly know what it is I do, but it is surely better than death.”

  The dark man laughed uproariously, “you care not that this man was willing to give his life for yours?”

  Zark shrugged, “the more fool is he, let us tarry no longer.” He plunged the blade into the irritating man’s heart and actually found the sensation quite agreeable, but even more pleasant was the amazing power he felt welling within himself, power enough perhaps to rival the very gods he once denied.

 

  Zark found himself paired up with the speaker of the previous night as something of an apprentice in a little society they called the Brotherhood of the Serpent. He had certainly seen one of their hideous serpents, but still doubted the veracity of their devotion to the so-called Evil One but the strange abilities he now possessed must surely stem from somewhere. More importantly his objectionable conscience now seemed cloaked in a stifling veil of darkness and nearly ceased to bother him. They rode south for some days and finally came to a little cluster of farms where Lurch said they had business. It seemed their whole reason for being was to work to further the plans of their much feared master by fomenting discord and chaos in the wide world. The local lord was a tyrant and had raised taxes to the point of stifling his once prosperous farmers. A few rebels in this part of the land were refusing to pay their share, saying their children were starving and this was causing some others to think twice about doing the same. The whole domain was in danger of rebelling against their lord. Usually such discord would benefit the plans of the Brotherhood, but as this lord was a tyrant they wished to ensure his continued success. They were to murder the leaders of the opposition and terrify the rest into cooperation. Zark asked, “are we to kill only the men or everyone?”

  Lurch laughed, “I hope you do not have a soft heart boy because we will kill them all, even a newborn babe.”

  Zark felt his heart sink but philosophically reminded himself that it was better them than him. He sighed and settled in to wait until all had gone to bed when they could strike at their leisure. The darkest watch of the night had fallen when Lurch motioned for them to move. The first farm on their list of targets had been silent since they had arrived after nightfall. A dog barked as they made their entrance but some fell spell of Lurch's quickly silenced the annoyance. They crept in the kitchen window with swords bared and suddenly Lurch found himself under attack. A man in the uniform of the Brethren had lain in wait for this long expected attack and whirled about in a deadly dance with his foe. Zark crept in swiftly after and dealt the ambusher a mortal blow to the chest, but not before their foe had done the same to Lurch. Both fell clutching at their wounds and breathing raggedly. A shrill equine scream of grief and rage filled the night and the creature ran to the door and desperately began kicking at the strong oaken door, hoping to reach his stricken master’s side. Zark stared from one to the other, not knowing what to do.

  “Finish him fool and then make an end of the rebels,” growled Lurch.

  Zark threw down his sword, “I am not sure I wish to serve you any longer. It seems the threat against my life is ended and I will leave you fine gentlemen to die for your separate causes. Good evening.” He screamed as a dagger thrown by his former associate pierced his own chest.

  “Think you that you can escape so easily?” growled Lurch, “you shall die with the rest of us t
raitor and then your soul is lost for all eternity after what you have done.”

  The dying Brother gasped out, “never too late to seek the Master.”

  Zark laughed derisively, “it seems he has done much to aid your plight. I will perhaps acknowledge his existence is that enough?”

  Lurch laughed, “even the Nameless One does that. Would you prostrate yourself before him as these pathetic fools are wont to do?” The unicorn outside gave a pathetic whinny and disappeared into the night, having felt his master die. Lurch laughed to see his foe precede him in death but did not linger long after, dissolving thereupon into a fetid puddle of goo.

  Zark stared in horror from the corpse to the puddle and back, wondering what was left for him to do. He would not acknowledge the Master no matter what it cost him. The room darkened, save for the gentle glow of a unicorn that suddenly appeared before Zark. It was the Master himself come to give the wretched man one last chance. Zark snapped, “I do not care who or what you are, I do not need nor want you. Be gone and leave me in peace!” The Master said nothing but the sorrow within those great eyes deepened greatly and Zark found himself on the brink of tears yet he would not relent. He would die as no one’s slave. And so he did. The darkness deepened around him and the Master gave him one last look, this of a judge passing sentence and Zark knew there was no dispute. He quivered at the wretched life he had left behind but quailed before all eternity that lay ahead with nothing but the dark and his own uneasy thoughts for company. The Master vanished and then all was darkness ever after.