Salvation

by James Wymore

  "Should we tell them all who you are now?" Jewel asked when they had moved apart from the rest.

  "No," he said. "There is no need."

  "But it might bring them some comfort."

  "When we reach Sel, they shall have every comfort money can afford," he swore.

  Drake stepped forward then, forcing a smile to surface above some pain. "Sixty five," he said, "including children. When do we want to move forward?"

  "What do you think?" Richard asked. He had his arm around Jewel, trying to keep her warm against the unforgiving elements.

  Drake tipped his head to the side. "I don't know. It seems we could push on and make Sel before sunset. We don't have enough supplies to take the cold of a winter night."

  "Marching bodies are warmer," Jewel agreed.

  "Plus, once they stop, they will find it much harder to start again," Richard said. He relished the memory of distant training coming so easy now. "Let's get going. We'll meet the scouts on the way."

  Against vocal moans and complaints, some loud, Vince helped gather the town and start them marching again. At a much slower pace, they began forcing exhausted feet to lift over sharp rocks and hard patches of ice.

  "At least the path is going down just now," Jewel said.

  Richard wished he could lift her, just to spare her pregnant body from further abuse. However, he found it hard enough to lift his own aching limbs.

  "The path is blocked!" Scouts, shouting, ran back up to meet them.

  When the parties had met, the woman leading the small group said, "There are hundreds of Hyzoi just over that ridge. They have multiple jets of water covering blocks of soldiers all along the path. They are fresh. They will be over the ridge in a few minutes."

  "How can it be?" Jewel said. New tears began falling down her trembling cheeks. "We've come so far."

  "Should we retreat?" Drake asked.

  "No." Richard didn't hesitate. "If we let them trap us, it will only be a waiting game. And we will lose it."

  "What can we do?" the scout demanded.

  "Run," Richard said. "Is there another road?"

  "There's a road north," Drake said. The entire town was now crowding to hear. The bad news had brought more than a few of them to their knees.

  "Where does it lead?"

  "A small fishing town, just a few houses up by the river."

  "They Hyzoi can't follow the river?"

  "There's a fall they can't climb just beyond that ridge," the scout said.

  "We'll bushwhack if we have to," Richard said.

  "Everybody listen!" Drake called. His voice cracked, but his eyes drew the attention of the weary.

  Richard stepped back so he was a little higher up the hill. "We have just learned the road is blocked by Hyzoi." He pointed clearly to the ridge their current path led to. "If they discover us before we get past them, there will be no hope. In quiet, and with great speed, we must rush past them and up the foot path to the north. They will be fresh and near water."

  Everybody nodded. More tears fell. In the afternoon shadow of trees, he wanted to cry for them, too.

  "Do not delay. Run for your lives!"

  A few started moving down the path.

  "Lead them, Vince. Take the front, Drake. Don't turn back to watch the slow ones. Just run and let them follow."

  The two nodded, took deep breaths, then sprinted down the road.

  "I need you to go ahead with them," he said to Jewel.

  "No, I'm staying with you."

  "I can't have you at the back with me."

  "You promised you would lead from the front."

  "I did. But now there are children too slow to outrun the Hyzoi. I won't have them being picked off. The north path is narrow. I can hold the Hyzoi while everybody else escapes. I cannot bear one more person to die under my lead. Please, understand that. And if that person were you, I would throw myself in and let them take me."

  Jewel put her hand on his head and tucked a few stray hairs into his helmet. She sniffed twice, nodding. Then she turned away and began moving with the others. He knew she wasn't going as fast as she could. But he didn't have time to talk more.

  Richard marched along with the slower children, several were now orphans. It broke his heart to see them so lost in a hostile world. He thought of his own unborn son and despaired. No child should have to live through such horrors. He could not speak aloud the oath in his heart. I will not let one of these die before me. They will make it to Sel if I do. And they will not want for food or care.

  "Run now," he said softly, with a broken voice. "Run like the wind. Make your parents proud. Make the birds work hard to keep up."

  The moment they reached the fork in the road and began to head north on the small path, Hyzoi cleared the ridge to the west.

  Richard ran behind the children. Several fighters fell back to join him. They pulled their bows and carefully measured each shot. Nine of the twelve arrows felled a Hyzoi rushing toward them. Then there was not a single arrow left among all the people of Winigh.

  They threw the bows at the oncoming hoard of still wet, sandy armored monsters. Then they drew axes and swords. Having the pick of the weapons from their fallen comrades, they were armed as well as all the soldiers of Sel.

  They continued to rush up the hill as the Hyzoi closed the distance.

  "It has been good fighting next to you all," one man said. Richard recognized the acceptance of death in the young man's voice. He'd heard it in battle before. It represented the greatest of courage. Having faced the enemy time and again, they no longer feared the ultimate end.

  "I would have liked to see Sel," the woman said. "I thought we might see the King."

  "Would you settle for the future King?" Richard asked.

  The woman missed a step and turned to look at him. "Are you saying you remembered who you are, and you're the Prince of Sel?"

  Richard didn't answer quickly.

  "Ha ha!" One man said, clapping him on the back. Good one!"

  They all laughed. Richard decided not to argue the point, because the Hyzoi leaped and closed the distance between them.

  Thrusting his sword, Richard caught the first charging lizard-man in the eye with the barbed S-curve of his sword tip. As the liquid from the eye splashed out and mixed with the beast's brain, the body fell, clogging the narrow path. The Hyzoi behind began leaping over the body, not slowing at all.

  Once near enough, one Hyzoi leaped over their head, attempting to cut them off from the group. Richard reached for it with his sword, but fell short. The soldiers behind him had to deal with that monster. Their path cut off, the small band found themselves stuck. The approaching frenzy stopped their retreat and plunged them all into chaos.

  As the tide of crusted, hulking enemies crashed into the small group of defenders, Richard knew no natural force on earth could save them now. The oncoming fangs and claws would reduce them all to so much meat. Richard thought of Jewel, knowing his wife and son would only live if he stopped these juggernauts. His comrades deserved to live. There had been too much death already. He wished to see his parents one more time.

  In the instant before all hope died with him, his soul latched onto something he had long forgotten. Something he'd learned as a young man. Fire, like the sun, is both light and heat.

  Suddenly, without even a full thought, Richard's body exploded bright light in every direction. Channeling all his soul's energy, because he knew he had no need to save any, he shone brighter than the sun.

  With hard, clear membranes instead of eye-lids, the light blinded monsters quickly became confused. Unwilling to surrender their frenzy, they began biting and slashing at anything they could reach. Within seconds, they were attacking each other.

  Richard collapsed, hoping against all odds that he bought the rest of them enough time.

  Part Three

  Salvation

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Richard couldn't breathe. It felt like somebody was standing on his c
hest. Darkness surrounded him on every side. A mental and physical numbness pervaded. For a long time, he suspected he was in hell. Eventually, he realized he could move. Hell or no, he had a body. He wiggled his gloved fingers easily. His toes could move around inside his boots. His arms and legs were pinned in place. He managed to swivel his hips. By shifting back and forth for what seemed a very long time, he managed to shift around enough to start breathing.

  Immediately he regretted it, because the air sickened him. The stench of fish guts and rotting flesh assaulted his mind. Despite the logical extension that such a smell could easily be a part of hell, the tainted oxygen slowly helped him realize he still lived.

  Soon after, he registered the cold and pain. Struggling now, as hard as he had fought before, he slowly twisted and dug his way out from under the hard plates of Hyzoi armor. When he extricated one arm and leg, he used the leverage to ease out from under the heavy bodies piled above him. Once he could freely move in a small cave, he began to dig his way out.

  The dim light of stars above came with even more cold, but he welcomed it. Once he crawled free of the pile of monsters, he began to survey the land. A dam of Hyzoi bodies clogged the trench between two sharp cliffs. A few soldiers of Winigh lay dead on the path, too. He followed the footprints up the hill in silence. No animals croaked or chirped, leaving the world eerie and dark.

  With ice burning his lungs, Richard ignored all the pain and marched. He would witness the death of the people he loved, and then he would die himself.

  Half a league up the path, the clawed feet of the Hyzoi stopped. But the shod feet of humans continued. He hardly dared hope again, even as he broke into a run.

  The path curved to the west and crested a rocky ridge. Then it opened onto a small homestead and large bonfire. Richard had to stop himself as he descended the steep path to keep from pitching forward and tumbling down. Each step now seemed to take all the energy he had. Without fear or adrenaline, his body nearly succumbed to exhaustion.

  "Look!" one young man called as he pointed up the path. The survivors of Winigh rushed forward, literally picking Richard up and carrying him back to the fire.

  When he saw Jewel waiting there, he fell onto her, unable to hold himself up. She set him down and began unfastening his dented and freezing armor. "I thought you were dead," she said. "They said you went down."

  Richard tried to speak, but couldn't. Instead he kissed her cheek.

  "This place was abandoned," Drake said. "Nobody's been here for half a year, at least."

  "Smart enough to move out," Vince said with a nod.

  "Get some water from the creek," Jewel said. "We can't have the Prince of Sel die of thirst."

  Everybody stopped. Richard thought he heard his own heartbeat echoing in the silence.

  A woman finally asked, "Did you say the Prince of Sel?"

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The small homes and towns they encountered on the long road to Sel City gave all they could to help the refugees marching in the cold. It took another day to make a journey of only a few leagues. After dark on a cold spring evening, a dirty and tattered mob approached the gates of Sel. Most of them had never seen a big city. In the shadow of the buildings surrounding the fortress, they were too exhausted to be upset by the many mistrusting and unfriendly eyes among the people of the city. One of their bedraggled numbers dared to knock on the fortress doors.

  "What do you want?" the guard called down, from a high window in the nearby tower. "The castle is closed for the night."

  "I am Prince Richard Deison, son of the king. I have guests of the royal family with me. Open at once."

  "That's impossible," the guard said, half gasping. "The prince died at war."

  "Come down," Richard ordered. "You will know my face and tell me if I am dead or not."

  "I see your weapons," the guard said. "I'll not be fooled by dirty marauders. Come back in the light."

  The Prince threw down his sword and knife with a clang. He turned to Jewel, "May I borrow your ring?"

  She took the chain off and handed him the whole necklace. Richard threw it up with perfect aim so it went through the thin murder slit the guard stood behind. The rest of the people of Winigh dropped their weapons, relieved to be free of the weight they forgot they carried.

  "You could have found this on the Prince's dead body," the guard said back.

  "Just bring a light and come to a lower window," Richard said. "If you deny entrance to the Prince, you will be sorry." Another voice began talking to the one above them. Then a new face looked out.

  "You fool! That's the king's own son." The new voice cried, "Open the gates!"

  A heavy latch clicked open behind the great wooden doors. Then they split, and a line of yellow light grew as the large barriers pulled back, revealing a smooth stone corridor with lush tapestries and family crests lining the walls.

  An older man, in the uniform of a Selene guard, stepped forward at attention. "Forgive us, My Lord. Welcome home." He held out the ring.

  Richard handed the necklace back to Jewel. To the guard he said, "Please inform the king I have returned."

  "He already knows," the guard nodded. "A great banquet is already being prepared."

  Richard nodded. He took his wife's hand and led the refugees of Winigh into the Kingdom of Sel.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Richard paced back and forth in front of the heavy oak door to his bedroom, barred on the other side. Every time he turned, the heel of his boot made a scratching sound on the stone floor. His father, the king, sat on a nearby bench. "Richard," the king finally said, "this could go on for more than a day. You're going to wear yourself out with worrying, son."

  "I just feel so helpless." He scraped his heels on the floor again as his purple half-cape flew out behind him. Before it could fall, he was walking away again. "Drake, isn't there some magic for this kind of thing?"

  Drake turned with wide eyes to the six other men here to support the prince. Despite the fine clothes they provided him as an official advisor of Sel, he missed the more comfortable attire of the farm. He turned back and said, "You're asking me? I've never had any magic. I wouldn't know."

  Richard rolled his eyes. "No, seriously. The people of Winigh, their folk magic, it can help her, right?"

  Drake stood up and clapped a hand on Richard's shoulder, mostly to stop him from marching back and forth. "They don't have to be in the room to help her with that. You can bet every one of Aunt Lanny's daughters will be seeing all their colors and whatnot. Maybe we should get some lunch. They'll call us back if there's any news."

  The Schoolmaster from the Selest Seminary snapped his fingers. A young man, waiting down the hall, rushed forward. "Have them send up some food for his Highness. And ask them to bring up a large kettle of water."

  The boy ran back down the hall and around the corner.

  "What's the water for?" Richard asked.

  "The midwives will always call for warm water to wash the newborn," the Schoolmaster said.

  "But you didn't ask for warm water." Richard let himself be distracted by a tapestry, bordered in red, showing his grandfather christening a giant sailboat with iron panels on the sides.

  "I thought, considering the circumstances, you could take this opportunity to work on your magic while we wait. It might give you something to concentrate on." The Schoolmaster's sideways grin made Richard almost want to laugh.

  "I think that's a very good idea," said the king. "When you were born, your mother wouldn't let me in the room for an hour until she washed and dressed."

  The Schoolmaster put one hand up and whispered in Richard's ear, "It was more like five minutes."

  "Say what you want," the king said as he raised his voice. "But she's in there with Jewel now, so you can bet the same thing will happen today."

  "The Duchess of Winigh is a strong woman," the Schoolmaster said. "You've nothing to worry about, your Highness." Then he looked at the king and added, "Highnesses.
"

  "I'm not worried," the king said, puffing out his chest.

  "Jewel said the baby was healthy," Drake said. "She has the magic, just like Macey. You only have to believe in her. It's all the help you can give now."

  A few minutes later, several young men and women came around the corner carrying a light table with trays of cold, sliced meats, and cheese. It had the white bread of Sel and raisin bread from Winigh. Everybody began nibbling absently.

  Over a piece of raisin bread, Drake said, "Not the same without jam and goat's milk."

  "Or butter and juice," Richard responded.

  "God gives goats and grapes," Drake finished. They both smiled. The chant made Richard miss Macey and Bowen again.

  The first young man returned with a fifty gallon copper kettle, scorched black on the bottom, and set it next to the door. A small army of kids brought small buckets of water, one at a time, and began to fill it.

  "Is that from the kitchen?" Richard asked.

  "They are all eager to help in any way they can," the Schoolmaster said with a nod.

  Once they'd filled the kettle halfway, the line of kids retreated back around the corner. "This is ridiculous," the king said. "They'll never be able to move that into the bedroom."

  "They can draw water from out here," the Schoolmaster said. He indicated it with one open hand and smiled at the prince.

  Richard rolled his eyes. "This is just your way of paying me back for tormenting you all those years."

  "On the contrary," the Schoolmaster said, "nothing could be more gratifying to a teacher than to see his pupil finally rise to the level of mastery."

  "Didn't he hear about the snowy pass?" Drake asked. He wrapped a cube of cheese in sliced ham as he watched.

  Richard noted the early afternoon sun fell on the side of the metal container. He closed his eyes and began to clear his mind. He felt the tendrils of adoration from all over Sel. He knew, at the moment, there were thousands of citizens thinking about and praying for the good of the coming heir. He knew all the survivors of Winigh, with or without magic, were concentrating on Jewel and the new baby.