The Record of the Saints Caliber

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The Record of the Saints Caliber Page 54

by M. David White


  Rook watched as Forest and Reed strode through the trees. An audible murmur of defeat washed through the camp as it became clear that neither of them bore anything in their hands. Reed seemed paler to Rook. Sweaty. Sick, maybe? He thought for sure Forest was going to scold them for having the fire, but he didn’t even seem to take notice of it. He stood there for a moment, just looking at them all.

  “Did you find anything?” asked one of the other boys? “A stream? Berries?”

  “No,” said Forest, his voice a little distant. Reed just stood there, not really looking at anybody.

  “Is something wrong?” asked one of the women, and they all began standing up. “Reed, you don’t look well.”

  Forest glanced at the boy and scowled. Then he looked at the rest and said, “We’re fine. But we have to go.”

  There were some murmurs.

  “Why?” asked Lobo. And the other boys all looked at Reed. “Reed, what’s wrong?”

  Rook could see that Reed wanted to speak, but something stayed his voice. The young man looked away.

  “Nothing’s wrong.” growled Forest. “Now come on, get everybody up! We have to go. Hurry now!”

  Rook could hear the women all whispering that something had to be wrong. One of the boys said that they must have spotted trouble and were keeping quiet so as not to scare the children. Some of the babies began crying again and the women did the best job they could of rounding everybody up.

  “Come on, hurry!” said Forest. He turned Reed around and pushed the boy, forcing him to take the lead. “Come on, let’s go!”

  Rook had an uneasy feeling. Like the rest, he knew something was wrong. They all began to file forward, and whispered rumors of Gatima’s soldiers hunting the woods began to spread. The women tried to hold the babes to their breasts to keep their voices down and some of the younger kids began crying too.

  Forest pushed Reed by the shoulder ahead of him and led the people about a mile through the forest until they came to a large, natural clearing that was surrounded by the thicker woods all around. Here, Forest made them stop and began waving everybody in. Rook huddled up with all the women and younger children, holding Ursula to his shoulder. Thankfully she was still sleeping and not making a fuss. He could hear Forest hissing at them all to hurry up. “Come on!” he was saying. “Come on! Get in a group!”

  “What’s going on?” asked Lobo in a slightly more demanding tone. He looked at Reed. “What’s going on?” he asked again.

  “Shh!” hissed Forest.

  Everybody formed something of a singular group, all pressed together in the clearing. There were a few moments of confused silence where a palpable anxiety hung in the air. And then the gasps started. Huddled within the crowd, Rook couldn’t immediately see what was happening, but the older boy’s shouts of anger gave him a good idea.

  “You sold us out?!” yelled Lobo. “Reed, you sold us out?!”

  “Forest, you son of a bitch!” spat Winter.

  The women all began screaming, and all around Rook the younger kids began crying.

  “Sorry, it was us or you.” said Forest without apology. “And me and Reed chose ourselves.”

  Reed began to protest, saying he hadn’t wanted to betray anybody, but now Rook could hear barking orders from other men…strange men. He struggled to see beyond the crowd and caught a glimpse of red armor…the armor of Clerical Guard. Some of the women fell, grabbing up the children into their arms, and now Rook could see what was going on. There were three Clerical Guards with bolt-throwers drawn and aimed at their group. There was also a pair of well dressed men who Rook knew. They were town officials from where he lived. They must have escaped the fighting, and Forest and Reed must have stumbled upon them in the woods.

  “Forest you son of a bitch!” screamed one of the boys. There were more angry yells. Women sobbed and pleaded.

  “Look what we have here.” said one of the town officials, shaking his head and tisking. He seemed to be making a silent head count. Then he turned and yelled, “Thirty-three of them. Bring the wagons.”

  There were hoof beats and the squeaking of wheels. Lumbering into the clearing came a pair of large, wooden wagons, each drawn by a pair of horses. Rook’s heart began to thump rapidly in his chest. He could feel the color leaving his face. He swallowed hard and looked down, backing himself into a group of taller children. Upon the first wagon, holding the reigns of the horses, was the fat, droopy-eyed Garrot. And driving the other wagon was the cadaverous, worm-lipped Rennic Finn.

  “All of you, line up!” ordered one of the Clerical Guard. He waved his bolt-thrower at the group. “You, older boys, over here. Women and children over there! Come on, move it!”

  Rook kept his chin plastered to his chest and people began moving and shuffling around him. Ursula began to fuss in his arms. He couldn’t imagine what Garrot might do to him, considering he had to know that he killed his brother, Karver. Panic began to take its hold on him. He felt his breath coming short and sharp. He suddenly felt dizzy.

  “We did our part.” Rook heard Forest say. “You promised me food and water and my freedom.”

  One of the town officials looked at the Clerical Guard next to him, and with very little interest said, “Give him his water.”

  The Guard nodded and strode over to Forest. He began backing up, stuttering, asking what was going on as the Guard grabbed him around the arm. Then another Guard came up and grabbed his other arm.

  “Wait!…Wait!…What is this? You promised me! You promised my freedom!” screamed Forest.

  The third Clerical Guard came up to him with a cask in his hands. “Here’s your water,” he said. With a dagger, he popped open the bung and with both hands lifted the cask over Forest’s head.

  Forest began to scream as the guards held him, one of them forcing his mouth open. Water spilled forth in a thick flow and Forest began to choke. His eyes went wide, his screams became garbled. Garrot looked on from his perch in the wagon and huffed a little laugh. Rennic Finn’s red lips stretched into a gruesome smile.

  The last of the water emptied from the cask, splashing out of Forest’s mouth, but it was apparent the man was dead. His eyes were wide and his body pale and limp. The guards dropped him, and the one with the cask smashed it over his head. Rook cringed at the sickening crack, wondering if the sound might have been wood or bone or both. Blood oozed out onto the dirt. The town official pointed at Reed. “Give this one his food.”

  They grabbed him around his arms. “But…I…I didn’t want to!” Reed’s wide eyes turned to the captives and Rook could see fear, shame, regret and apology all painting his face. “I’m sorry,” he said, tears falling from his eyes. “He made me! I didn’t want to! I swear it! I’m sorry! I’m sor—”

  One of the Guards stuffed a wad of bread into Reed’s mouth, choking him. He began stuffing more and more down Reed’s throat. Rook could hear the boy’s ghastly screams and he looked away, holding Ursula tight. In time, there was silence.

  “As for the rest of you, you shall all be taken back to Gatimaria to stand trial before our King.” said the town official. He motioned for Garrot and Rennic. “Take their names.”

  Rook’s heart began beating painfully in his chest, and Ursula was crying on his shoulder. He bit his lip, looking down at the ground, not daring to even glance up. All around him the others began moving, filing up into a line. He could hear their pleas and cries for mercy, but his mind was too full of his own terror to focus on anything. He thought about trying to run. He could try to bolt into the forest, hide in some brambles. But Ursula would cry. They would find him easily. Stupider ideas flooded him: climb a tree, hide beneath one of the womens’ blouses…

  Panic took him. Everything was spinning. There was nowhere for him to go. There was nothing he could do. There was no escape. Garrot and Rennic would see him…unless…unless maybe they couldn’t recognize him. Quickly, Rook bent down and swiped his hand through the dirt and then rubbed his palm over his face and Urs
ula’s. She began to scream at it, but Rook hoped that perhaps the dirt would disguise their looks enough that Garrot and Rennic would not recognize them.

  He sidled up to another group of children roughly his own age, hoping to maybe blend in. He kept his chin down. He could see the three Clerical Guards standing before them with their guns at the ready. He could see the two town officials whispering in each others’ ears, pointing at some of the people in the line-up. From down the line he could hear voices. Garrot was asking names, people were replying in whimpers and voices shaken by fear. He chanced a glance to the side. Garrot and Rennic were coming down the line. Garrot asking names, Rennic scrawling them down on paper. He swallowed hard. A name…a name…he had to think of a name…

  “Name,” said Garrot in his subtly slurred voice. Rook could see the man’s fat legs and feet stuffed into his shoes. He could see Rennic’s black boots as well.

  “V-V-V-Violet,” meekly said the girl next to Rook. He saw Rennic’s and Garrot’s feet shuffle over to him.

  “Name.”

  Ursula was screaming on his shoulder. Rook found himself chewing his lip. His eyes were plastered to the ground. He felt himself trembling.

  “Name.”

  Rook’s teeth chattered. His lips fluttered as he tried to spit any word out.

  Then he heard Rennic gasp. Almost immediately he felt Ursula torn from his arms. He looked up, reaching for her. He wanted to scream; he wanted to yell. But he could not find his voice.

  Rennic held Ursula up, his mouth a ghastly smile. He began hopping and dancing about, laughing freakishly. Ursula was screaming. “Blood baby! Blood baby!” he giggled. Rennic bit into his thumb and jammed the bleeding digit into her mouth. He held her in his arms as he pranced around, laughing.

  “Ursul—”A million white pinpoints of light upon a field of blackness filled Rook’s vision. Searing pain erupted on his cheek. He felt his body hit the ground hard. More pain, this time in his side. The breath was torn from him. He choked. His head was jarred painfully by a kick. Around him, the screams of the people were muted by unconsciousness. He felt his body lift, his head fall on his shoulder. More searing pain. Over and over again it erupted on his cheek until finally he felt himself on the ground. He could taste blood. He was aware that his breathing wasn’t quite right. He wanted to move, but couldn’t. He was too dizzy. All he wanted was to let the blackness of unconsciousness take him.

  He heard the voices of the town officials. They seemed tinny and distant. “What is this about! Stop this at once!”

  “He killed my brother!” he was aware of Garrot’s voice. It was harsh, filled with rage. “This one killed my brother!”

  He could hear the pleas of the women, the shrieks of other children around him. He heard Ursula cry. Rook’s hand folded around a clump of dirt. His arms trembled as he tried to get up. Then there was an arm around his waist; he was lifted up. He felt himself pressed against a warm body. He felt hot tears drop upon his hair. His eyes cracked open. They felt swollen. Blood ran out his mouth and nose. His lip throbbed.

  “Please! Please!” cried a woman, holding Rook in her arms.

  Rook’s vision was blurred, and everything was happening in slow motion. He could see Rennic prancing about, whooping and yelping with freakish delight as Ursula sucked the blood from his thumb. The town officials were yelling at him. He could see the Clerical Guard waving their weapons; he could hear them barking orders. One of them held Garrot back, the fat man’s face twisted in a snarl, foamy spit flying out in all directions.

  “Ursula…” Rook heard his own voice, weak and pathetic. It was barely a whisper.

  “I’m gonna kill him! I’m gonna slit his throat wide open like he did my brother!”

  Rook felt a hand constrict around his arm, fat fingertips digging painfully into his flesh. He was torn from the woman’s arms. Another sharp, searing pain erupted across his cheek. His eyes were barely open but they desperately sought for his sister. Then there was a strange voice, and the slaps across his face ceased.

  “All give pause and harken to the will of the glorious and exalted Behemoth Kraken.” The voice was subdued and monotone, and Rook was not sure if it was just the unconsciousness playing upon his ears. He felt himself thrown to the ground. Somewhere beyond his sight he could hear Ursula. There were gasps and talking, but the sounds all spun around his head.

  Rook struggled to lift his head up. His head throbbed. He could taste blood; could feel it running out of his nose. He cracked his eyes open. There was a Saint upon a horse in silver barding. The Saint sat tall in his saddle, black Star-Armor upon his form. In one hand he held the reigns, but his other arm was missing at the elbow. He had white hair and eyes and looked out upon the world with an expression that seemed as distant and faded as Rook’s own consciousness.

  “Ah, Saint Rathaniel,” said one of the city officials, walking forward to meet him. The Saint slid down from his saddle and made a slight bow. “We found these escapees from Caer Gatima. Perhaps you can be of service.”

  “The glorious and exalted Behemoth Kraken has claimed these as his own.” intoned Saint Rathaniel.

  Rook struggled to sit up. His mind spun. Pain wracked his body and head. He could feel a strange warmth and heaviness in his face. He could tell his lip was swollen just by how numb it felt. “Ur…Ursula…”

  “These villagers shall be taken back to Gatimaria to stand trial for their crimes.” said the city official. “King Gatima will exact his justice upon them for their little uprising.”

  “The glorious and exalted Behemoth Kraken sends me forth with his will.” intoned the Saint. “The old are to be taken and sold to Narbereth. The young to Valdasia.” Here the Saint looked past the city officials and his eyes found Garrot. “The glorious and exalted Behemoth Kraken has sent me forth to find you, Garrot. You are to assist me in the slave trades.”

  “This cannot be!” protested one of the city officials. “These are the property of King Gatima himself!”

  “These people are to be returned to Gatima for trial at once.” said the other city official. “Kraken serves the King, not himself.”

  “None save Leviathan Hydra may question the will of the glorious and exalted Behemoth Kraken.” intoned the Saint.

  The officials looked at each other. “Who is Leviathan Hydra?” asked one.

  The other shook his head and looked back at Rathaniel. “This is madness.” he said. “Gatima is your King. Gatima’s word ascends all voices within Jerusa! These people are the property of your King and they shall—”

  The Saint’s sword was so fast that he didn’t appear to move as the man’s neck was torn wide open. The other official began to back up but the Saint strode forth, and with a flourish of his sword, sent the man’s head flying.

  Rook jolted as bolt-thrower fire erupted behind him. JINK-JINK-JINK-JINK-JINK-JINK-JINK-JINK-JINK! The adrenaline surge sent consciousness back to Rook’s mind and he watched in awe as the one-armed Saint whirled his sword in graceful flourishes before him, bolts exploding in the air around him. The Clerical Guard backed up, their bolt-throwers never ceasing as the Saint closed on them. His sword flourished, and their heads fell.

  The Saint stopped and turned to Garrot. “By the will of the glorious and exalted Behemoth Kraken, you shall accompany me to Narbereth to make sale of these slaves claimed in his name.” He turned to Rennic Finn and intoned. “Rennic Finn, you shall take the women and babes to Valdasia where you shall sell them in the name of the glorious and exalted Behemoth Kraken.”

  Rennic Finn nodded and handed Ursula to one of the women. Rook watched as he went to his wagon and brought out chains and shackles.

  Saint Rathaniel turned to address the people. “By the will of the glorious and exalted Behemoth Kraken, women and their babes shall form a line here. The rest of you shall come forth with me to the other wagon.”

  Rook felt himself dragged harshly to his feet. A fat hand smacked him across the face. He turned and felt cold steel
upon his neck. Garrot held him with a dagger to the throat. “I kill you how you killed my brother!” he snarled.

  Rook closed his eyes, ready for death to take him, when he felt the dagger fall from his throat.

  “By the will of the glorious and exalted Behemoth Kraken, all these have been claimed in his name.” intoned the Saint, his star-metal sword held to Garrot’s fat neck. The man looked on wide-eyed. “They shall all reach Narbereth in salable condition. Is that understood?”

  Garrot’s fat face bobbled up and down frantically.

  “Very good.” said the Saint. “Bind them and load them upon your wagon.”

  Garrot scowled down at Rook. “You, come!”

  Garrot grabbed Rook around the arm and marched him toward the wagon. Rook struggled. He spun around and watched as Rennic began rounding the women and the babies up. “Ursula! Ursula!”

  “Come!” snarled Garrot, throwing Rook against the wagon.

  Rook tried to scramble away, to get to Ursula, but Garrot picked him up and physically hauled him to the back of the wagon. Rook struggled and kicked but the fat man held him firmly. Chains rattled. Rook screamed as he felt the snap of cold steel around one ankle, and then around the other. He scrambled to his feet and started to run but fell flat on his face. He looked up and saw Rennic marching the women with their babies into his wagon.

  The cadaverous man’s eyes found Ursula and he strode over to one of the women and snatched her from her arms. “My baby!” he snapped at her. Rennic held Ursula in his arms. He smiled gruesomely down at her, his finger in her mouth. “Get in the wagon!” he barked at the other women.

  “Ursula! No!” Rage flooded Rook. He got up but fell again. His legs were shackled around both ankles, and he was bound by chain. “Ursula!”

  Garrot wrapped his meaty hands around Rook’s body and lifted him into the wagon. “You won’t ever see your sister again,” said the man, taking great delight in it. “She’ll be sold to Loretta. No baby ever survives Loretta.”

 

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