Blood of the Fallen

by Jeff Gunzel

  * * *

  The combination of sleet and snow peppered the old man’s face as he pushed through the storm, his black pony snorting in defiance. It didn’t like the weather any more than he did. Bringing the stumpy beast to a halt, he removed his thick glasses to rub away some of the mounting frost. Giving up after a number of rubs, he settled them high on his bald head and looked around the area.

  “Hmm,” he grumbled to himself, raising a hand to shield his eyes in order to get a better look. By now, the already hard-to-see trail had been largely blanketed by snow, but the old man still felt reasonably confident that he was heading in the right direction.

  His eyes wandered up towards the flickering sky as endless flashes illuminated the path. When the sky seemed to finally take a break, the world around him plunged into darkness. Seconds later the violent light show resumed, yet not once did he hear any thunder. “Hmm,” he repeated to himself, fascinated by the very nature of this place. But this was no time to get lost in deep thoughts, a thing the old man always had to guard against. He needed to keep moving, if only to get out of the cold as soon as possible. His thick gray coat was warm enough for now, but it wouldn’t hold off the chill indefinitely.

  “I don’t imagine it is much farther,” he said, smoothing a hand down his white beard to remove the bits of snow and ice. “Don’t you agree?” A moment later, a tiny mouse popped its head up from his coat pocket. Whiskers twitching, it sniffed the chill night air. “Be careful now, Raynald,” the man said, gently pushing the mouse back down with one finger. “It’s chilly up here in the mountains. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold, now would we? But fear not, I do believe these...spiritists...are nearby. Once we locate them, I suspect we will have a chance to warm up at last.”

  With a lazy heel to his pony’s side, the beast let out an irritated snort before clopping along again. The path was slick, and the climb was beginning to steepen. It would be a slow go the rest of the way, but the old man didn’t seem to care. His mind already beginning to wander, his own thoughts would do well to distract him for the next few hours or so. He glanced up to the flickering light show in the sky, once again pondering the nature of such peculiar weather.

  After an hour of slow travel, the old man finally spotted the lofty tower just ahead. He chuckled to himself, suddenly feeling quite foolish. No matter how bad the visibility got, there was simply no way he could have passed up such a towering structure. As his lazy pony clopped up to the front gate, he saw a number of men waiting for him. Their robes were blue with slashes of white across the chest, and all seemed to have reddish brown hair with light blue eyes. The old man smiled, certain he had finally found what he was searching for.

  “Halt,” the first spiritist said, casually moving sideways to block his path. By his relaxed stance, it was clear he did not view the old man as any sort of threat. As instructed, they were on the lookout for lerwicks making their way to the tower. However, a lone traveling human was quite unexpected.

  “I can only assume I’ve come to the right place,” the man slurred, his reddened face numb from the cold. Blinking away the snow clinging to his eyelashes, he reached up for his thick glasses before remembering they were quite useless right now. Looking the spiritists up and down in turn, he took the time to grin at each one individually. “Such handsome specimens, if I do say so myself. If I may trouble you, I need to speak to whoever is in charge. Er, it is rather cold out here. May I come in?”

  The spiritists eyed one another, not sure what to make of this old man. “He must have wandered up from town,” one finally said, speaking to the others as if the human were not standing right in front of him. “Poor old man. Senile, no doubt. We will have to figure out where he came from, then one of us will have to fly him back.”

  “Enough!” the old man boomed, his deep voice suddenly hard as steel. “I have not come this far just to be shunned by the likes of you. Now go to your commander at once at tell him that Hamas Lunmak is here to speak with him.”

  The spiritists jumped at the old man’s sudden change in demeanor. “The Moon Mistress will speak to you when and if she chooses, old man,” another spiritist spoke up.

  “You act as if your name carries some weight,” said the third, stepping up to be eye level with the human. “Should that name mean anything to us?”

  Suddenly looking quite amused, the old man’s eyes went soft. “It will soon enough,” he said with a chuckle. “Tell this moon woman that I, Hamas Lunmak, am the man responsible for awakening the lerwicks. I’m sure she will be quite interested to hear what I have to say.”

  Chapter 9

  Leaning back in the rather comfortable seat provided, Hamas gave a long, exaggerated stretch. Enjoying the warmth of the nearby fireplace, the old man’s eyes were growing heavier by the minute. Just on the verge of drifting off, he perked up when a spiritist walked by and offered him a glass of warm wine. Accepting it with a childlike greed, he snatched the wine off the tray and began to indulge.

  After a few gulps, he stopped drinking and eyed the goblet suspiciously. Pressing his tongue into the side of his cheek, he moved it around while dipping a finger into the goblet. He sucked the few drops off his finger as his eyes rolled upward, apparently thinking long and hard about the spiced drink. Then with a shrug he threw back the goblet and drained it, a fair amount of wine spilling from both corners of his mouth.

  Liam and Bella watched from the other side of the room. After having already spoken with the man at length, all they could do now was discuss their limited options. “Is he telling the truth?” Bella asked in a hushed tone as if he might be able to hear them. The old man’s odd behavior made her nervous, to say the least.

  “He certainly believes he is,” Liam said, still not sure what to make of this unusual man. His claim was beyond extraordinary, but he certainly seemed to believe his own words.

  “Well, is he mad?” Bella reasoned, searching for a better explanation. They watched as he started picking little bits from his beard, then looked down at his chest. After making a series of kissing sounds, a tiny head popped up from his pocket. Cooing at the little mouse, he began to feed it the morsels gathered from his beard.

  “Without question,” Liam answered, unable to tear his eyes away. “But that alone does not mean he is wrong. I must question him further.”

  “Go on then,” Bella said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I will inform Rishima of what we know so far.” She turned to leave. “And all we know for certain is that there is a madman in the tower who wishes to speak to her,” she mumbled under her breath as she left.

  Not quite catching her last statement, Liam dismissed it and went back over to Hamas. “Ah,” Hamas said, looking up from his empty goblet. “This wine is excellent. By any chance do you know what kind it is?”

  “Er, I’m sure I don’t know,” Liam said, caught off guard by the unimportant small talk. “But I do have a few more questions for you if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all...uh...Liam, is it?” Hamas said, peering hard into his goblet as if that might somehow make more wine appear.

  “That is correct,” Liam said, making a subtle motion with his hand to try and get this man’s full attention. He certainly did seem to get distracted easily. “Hamas, is it?” The old man smiled and nodded. “Surely you must understand how...extreme...your claim must sound to us?”

  “Of course I do,” Hamas acknowledged. “But that does not change the fact that I am telling you the truth.”

  “Fair enough,” Liam said. After marching back across the room, he returned with a worn-looking chair and sat directly in front of Hamas. “Now then, why don’t you start from the beginning? I’m trying to understand exactly what it is you think you’ve done. And more importantly, whether or not you may have...imagined it.”

  The old man stretched again, followed by a deep yawn. “With all due respect, my good man,” he said, his words slightly slurred by his lingering yawn. “I’m not sure why I must speak with you a
t all. I wish to speak with this...moon...woman. She is the one in charge, yes? She is the one who summoned the lerwicks in the first place? If so, then she is the person I must speak with. Please do not misunderstand, Liam. You seem like a smart fellow, and I’m sure we have much in common. But I cannot waste any more time with you any longer.”

  “The Moon Mistress will speak with you when and if I deem necessary,” Liam growled. “Your job is to convince me you are telling the truth. If you cannot do that, then I will personally send you back out into the storm. Rishima is a busy woman and the hour is late. I will not disturb her just so she can hear the ramblings of a madman.”

  “A madman, you say?” Hamas said, his eyes dancing with amusement.

  Liam leaned forward in his seat. “Until you prove to be otherwise, then yes.”

  “Very well,” Hamas said, clapping his hands together. “It seems that you carry some authority here, so I will speak to you openly. I trust that will help me gain the tower’s trust?”

  “I have the ears of both the Moon Mistress and Queen Bella,” Liam confirmed. “Convince me, and I will convince them. That is my duty.” His own words gave him pause, and he took a moment to reflect. In the short time he had been here, he had practically taken over a similar position such as the one he once held in Redwater. Of course, he was much more content to serve the tower than his former city. Regardless, it felt good to be needed once again.

  “It was not an easy task, as you might imagine,” he began. Hamas’s gaze drifted upward, his eyes going distant as he looked to the past. “Not that I ever believed that bringing back an ancient race was going to be easy, mind you. But as the failures began to add up, I found myself falling deeper and deeper into despair and self-doubt.”

  “Failures, you say?” Liam interrupted.

  “Why, yes. There were many, in fact. There is no solid blueprint or guidelines to follow when it comes to experimenting with genetics. Correct dosages, varied measurements, energy usage required to activate them all in just the right way. My earlier attempts were just stabs in the dark. Why, even the different sexes of the test subjects further complicated matters. The varied results were unpredictable at best. Each failed attempt had to be analyzed closely so that that particular mistake was not repeated a second time. I admit, I felt a sort of personal attachment to each test subject who died under my care.

  “They were just babies, Liam.” The old man’s eyes began to grow watery. “Children who had no future.”

  “Babies? Children with no future?” Liam said. “If you don’t start making sense, I’ll throw you out of here myse—”

  “Human children, Liam!” the old man said, rising to his feet. “Do you not already know what mix of blood flows through the lerwicks’ veins? Have I overestimated your intelligence?” The man smacked the back of his hand into his palm several times in frustration. “You know they are a mixed race, but human blood is the base. They weren’t created out of thin air, you know! Before any of their genetics could be altered, they had to start out as a single being first. The other alterations were added later. Laberath blood, ghatin in trace amounts, it was all measured carefully through a painstaking process of trial and error. But the base subjects were always the same. I’m telling you that the original lerwicks all started out as human children!”

  Liam dropped back into his chair, his whole body suddenly going numb. There was no denying it now. This old man knew things he couldn’t possibly have known, unless... Liam gripped the arms of his chair, trying to stop the room from spinning. His palms began to sweat. So it was true, this unassuming old man really had awakened the lerwicks.

  “How...” Liam’s voice sounded weak even to his own ears. “How did you do it?”

  Hamas lowered his gaze to the floor. “It came at the cost of many lives,” he said, his voice heavy with shame. “But once I figured out the correct genetic dosages, the right amount of energy needed to activate them properly, and quite frankly, a large amount of luck to boot, I was finally able to create the first two. At least, they were the first subjects to actually survive.” He paused, his fingers drumming across his knees nervously.

  “Well, that’s not entirely true, I suppose. Others did survive, but it wasn’t the sort of thing I would wish on anyone. Monsters they were. Subhumans. The ones who died were the unlucky ones, you might say.”

  “Where...” Again, Liam choked on the emotion swelling up in his throat. He had questioned horrible people before, murderers and rapists, but this was by far the hardest questioning he had ever had to push through. “Where did you find these children?” He swallowed hard. “What kind of man—”

  “They were brought to me by their own parents,” Hamas was quick to point out, raising his open hands innocently. “It was not what you think. The only children allowed into my experiments were the sick and dying. What I offered was simple, a chance at life where there was otherwise no hope.”

  “You offered mutation,” Liam growled, his firsts trembling.

  Hamas leaned forward in his seat, fingers clasped together beneath his chin. “Have you ever seen a mother cradling her dying child, begging for you to do something, anything, to save that child’s life? Well, I assure you that I have, many times in fact. And you know what the worst part was? I knew in my heart that there was probably nothing I could do. Yet it didn’t even matter in the grand scheme of things. His or her death would just be another stepping stone towards creating the ultimate weapon.

  “Liam, I only chose children who were going to die anyway. Those mothers knew that, and still they brought their children to me. I never lied to them. I offered a slim chance at life, which was more than they had before they came to me.”

  Hamas sighed and flopped back in his seat. “And then it finally happened. After years of figuring out what doesn’t work, we finally backed into the formula. It worked, Liam. I finally made it work.” He leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he shook his head. He seemed to be reliving that day of relief all over again. “A brother and sister, in fact. They were the first. It was finally over, Liam. I no longer had to watch any more children die in my arms. With their perfect blood, I was able to duplicate—”

  Liam zoned out as Hamas went on to explain the complicated process of mass-producing the lerwicks. Hearing the process might have been fascinating on any other day, but today he just couldn’t concentrate on those details. It all suddenly made so much sense. This was why the lerwicks couldn’t remember their childhoods. They were not born, they were created at an already advanced age. There was no childhood to remember. And since they were all created within a limited amount of time, they were all roughly the same age. It was all so much to take in that Liam could hardly wrap his head around it.

  “Why?!” Liam said, practically leaping out of his chair. The old man stopped talking and glanced up at him, confused. He knew he had cut Hamas off in midsentence, but he hadn’t been paying attention for some time anyway. “Why would you do such a thing in the first place?”

  “You really are an old fool, aren’t you?” Hamas said, rising from his seat to mirror Liam’s aggressive pose. “Do you even live in the same world as the rest of us? Are you really not aware of what the ghatins are capable of, even after they’ve already attacked multiple cities? I brought back a weapon, the only known weapon that can stop them. How can you fault me for that?”

  “You’re the fool!” Liam shouted, stabbing a finger at the man’s face. Their shouting match was beginning to draw quite a bit of attention. Spiritists gathered near the doorway, wondering what was going on. “Yes, of course we are aware of the ghatins. It feels as if we’ve been fighting them off at every turn. But do you know why we are still standing? It is because the ghatins are still at a disadvantage. The curse is still intact. Yes, they have a found a way to escape the volcano for small durations of time, but so far, we have been able to handle that. Until now, that is.

  “There is only one way they could possibly break that curse, and you ha
ve practically handed it to them on a platter. Surely you knew the danger when you brought back the lerwicks? What were you thinking?”

  “I weighed the options, and came to the conclusion that not bringing them back was the bigger threat,” Hamas reasoned. “I fear you are too certain in your assessment that the curse would hold in the absence of the lerwicks. I do not share your confidence, nor am I willing to bet the safety of the realm on a single theory.”

  “And I say you’ve doomed us all!” Liam barked.

  The old man sighed and melted back down into his chair. He picked his empty wine goblet up off the floor and peered into it again. “Perhaps you’re right,” he admitted, longing for just one more drop of the sweet wine. “Or perhaps you’re not.” He shrugged, setting it back down on the floor. “Only time will tell, but this much I know. If you are right and the ghatins do indeed break the curse, we already have the perfect weapons in place. We are in a position to defend ourselves.

  “But if they had found another way to break the curse, as I suspect they would have, and I had not brought back the lerwicks to fight them, we would all be doomed.”

  Liam sighed, also sinking back down into his chair. Even he could not deny the old man’s logic, as much as he hated to admit that.

  “I took a chance, Liam. It was a calculated risk with a high floor and a low ceiling. I made sure we had a fighting chance no matter what the ghatins managed to figure out on their own. Was it a mistake? Perhaps. But I will own up to and live with that mistake.”

  Liam turned and gestured to one of the spiritists. A moment later he approached with two full goblets of wine. Liam took both and handed one to Hamas. “Then I suppose we will all have to live with it,” Liam said, raising his goblet to a man he figured he would be seeing a lot of from now on.

  “To life, and all who are willing to fight to preserve it,” Hamas said, raising his goblet.