The Reluctant Warrior

by Pete B Jenkins

  Jed had never really had a family. His mother had died when he was only a boy and his father had worked so hard to provide for his family that he was rarely home. His only sister had been taken by cancer ten years ago, and now all he had left was one good for nothing brother he hadn’t seen or heard from in more than nine years. Yes, a large family with Amora certainly tugged at his heart strings, and it amused him to think he would start that family with a woman who was over 240 years old.

  An image of the ruined farm houses and buildings, and meadows reclaimed by brambles and weeds came back to him. He had seen several of these forlorn Noragin farms not long after arriving in this lost world, and even though he was no farmer he could appreciate the enormity of putting them to rights. With no tractors, farm implements, or any other modern equipment the job would take thousands of man hours and plenty of blood sweat and tears to go with it.

  Despite it all he felt the first stirrings of something he hadn’t felt in a long time…motivation. He had lived without it for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt like to get excited about something, and as strange as it sounded to him he was beginning to get excited about this whole farming business.

  Cows, sheep, pigs, chickens, ducks, and whatever other strange creatures they might farm in this blessed underworld paraded before his mind’s eye. His farm would boast the lot, and he would rebuild the farm house, and add more rooms as each new baby came along. He would grow wheat and potatoes and hay to feed the animals. Then when his sons were old enough they would carve out some more land from the wilderness to support his growing family. His life would finally have meaning. He could leave a legacy to his descendants which was something he could never have done in New York. His life up until this point had been aimless, nothing more than a constant round of adventures that achieved nothing. But the thought of building up a farm and a family of his own left him with a fierce determination to succeed that he had never really experienced before. Yes, Jed Rand was going to be a husband, a father, and a farmer.

  “Time we were moving,” Rex said, shaking him free of his daydream. “We’ll need to find a place to camp down there before the light grows dimmer.”

  Jed hauled himself up before helping Amora to her feet. The rest must have helped his leg as it was no longer sending out those needle like pains it was twenty minutes ago. He would be good for the next two hours at least.

  The journey to the bottom of the mountain went without incident, and now here they were with the Forbidden Lands stretched out before them like Sodom and Gomorrah after their destruction, and Chantros beckoning to them in the distance like the promised land itself.

  “I think we should head for that highest peak,” Rex suggested. “That should be visible from anywhere between here and Chantros.”

  “It would certainly keep us on a direct route,” Jed agreed. “We might have to skirt around a couple of those marshes if they’re too dangerous, but that peak would bring us back on track.”

  They moved off into the Forbidden Lands, Jed leaving Rex to lead the way and Jonathon bringing up the rear. Without his rifle Jed felt more vulnerable than he cared to admit to himself, but it wasn’t long before the sulphur fumes assaulted his nostrils, and as overpowering as it was it afforded him the satisfaction of knowing they would be safe in this part of the terrain, for what predators could find any sustenance in this toxic environment.

  Jed watched Rex treading cautiously, and testing the ground before every step. He could hear him muttering, and just caught something about, “it’s as bad as crossing a minefield,” and for once was glad he wasn’t in the lead. He allowed his mind to slip back to Eric and the others. Had Eric managed to keep the Noragin hidden all this time or had Montrose sniffed them out? He had lost count of the number of days they had been travelling for now, but it must be more than a week. Montrose would have had plenty of time to mount a comprehensive search. He glanced behind and his eyes rested on Jonathon’s weary face. The poor fellow must be sick with worry about Anna. He had never seen Jonathon so in love before. And then of course Rex would have Frida constantly on his mind too. What would they do, how would they react if when they got back they found Montrose had paid a visit and Frida and Anna were gone?

  He was glad that he had Amora with him. Even though they had faced many dangers and there would undoubtedly be more to come he felt she was safest when his eye was on her. But if Montrose had beaten them to it and found the caves then both Rex and Jonathon’s worlds were soon to come to an end. The problems they would encounter in trying to rescue the two girls would be immense to say the least, and even if by some miracle they did manage to breach the heavily guarded compound walls he couldn’t see how they could ever get back out alive.

  Despondency overtook Jed as he thought about the situation some more. Montrose had the power to destroy all his dreams. If the evil colonel couldn’t be taken out of the way then there would be no farm with its sheep and cattle or anything else he had been planning. Maybe there wouldn’t even be a family if he and Amora were kept constantly on the run.

  The knowledge of what Montrose had done to this world made the blood begin to boil in his veins. He had no right to destroy something that had been as close to utopia as this planet had got since the Garden of Eden. The people he had already killed these past sixty-seven years and the fear he had brought to these peace loving people set him apart as a war criminal of the vilest kind. But here there was no United Nations to bring him to justice, and so quite simply someone was going to have to take him out if the tyranny was to end.

  Jed figured that by now Montrose must know that there was no strike force coming for him. Jed had told him it was only ten days away when Montrose held him captive. That was nearly three weeks ago now, and so the colonel would realize he had been lied to. He would most likely have guessed that Jed didn’t have a division with him also. Would he laugh or would he be furious when he discovered his plans had been thwarted by nothing more than three civilians with absolutely no military experience?

  As Jed shuffled his way through a small gully with sulphur and mud holes on one side, and an occasional geyser hissing out its payload on the other, he thought about how a man could be forgiven for thinking he was somewhere in the wilds of Iceland instead of in the belly of the earth. Amora had been at his elbow the entire time since leaving the relative safety of the mountains and was still there when they stopped several hours later to rest. “How is your leg?” she asked, slipping her pack off her bruised shoulders and giving him her full attention.

  He knew the question would come sooner or later and there seemed no reason to keep the truth from her any longer now that Chantros was in sight. “It’s bad,” he said simply. “It’s very bad.”

  She looked shocked. “Why did you not tell me sooner that it had got worse?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you, and there was nothing you could do for me anyway.”

  “Show me,” she insisted, pointing impatiently at his leg.

  Offering no resistance this time he silently undid his trousers to expose his long suffering leg. “It doesn’t look too good does it?” he asked lamely.

  Squatting down beside him and initiating her investigation her face soon told him it was worse than it had been a couple of days ago. “It has turned very bad,” she said, straightening up, her pale cheeks even paler than usual. “It is badly infected and the infection has travelled up your leg.”

  “That doesn’t sound too good.” It hadn’t really occurred to him that the infection could travel further up his leg. “Is there anything you can do for it?”

  “Very little,” he could see she was close to tears, “if it gets any worse it could kill you. I’ve seen men die from wounds less infected than yours before.”

  Her prognosis alarmed him. “Has it turned poisonous?”

  She traced the red lines on his leg with her forefinger. “Those are the marks the poison leaves behind when it’s making its way to the heart.”

 
; He had known it had got worse, but not for one second had he considered the possibility that it could kill him. “There must be something we can do.”

  “If we can find a sulphur pool at a temperature that you can bear we might be able to bathe your leg in it,” she suggested. “The sulphur may sterilize the wound while the heat draws the poison out.”

  “We’ll keep on the lookout for one then.” Slipping his trousers up over his hips he tried to look optimistic for her sake. “We’d best catch up with the other two before we lose sight of them.”

  As they walked along together Jed knew she was worrying about his condition. With her head down and her eyes not leaving the path directly in front of her she silently fought with the emotions that were trying to possess her. To be honest, he was more than a little worried about it himself. The worst he had imagined was being unable to put any weight down on it and ending up being carried to Chantros. Now he had to face the possibility it could send a lethal dose of poison straight to his heart.

  Dragging the offending member along with him now he fancied he could feel those stabs of pain going just that much higher up his thigh than they had ten or fifteen minutes ago. Or was he just imagining it? If only Amora hadn’t told him how serious it was he wouldn’t be imagining it growing worse with each passing second.

  Amora had left him and was walking beside Rex now. He didn’t need to guess what she was telling him. Yep, Rex had just glanced over his shoulder at him and was saying something to Amora. He fancied he was in for a long lecture from his friend in the very near future, for Rex didn’t suffer fools gladly, and Jed had the feeling Rex considered him to have been rather foolish over his leg.

  With heaviness weighing his heart down Jed shuffled morosely along, thinking all the while that he had never felt so low in his life as he did right now, with a bad leg that would probably kill him, his adopted people on the brink of annihilation, and he wandering aimlessly in this barren wasteland on a mission that may just prove to be a wild goose chase. He let out a long and despondent sigh. Surely nothing could get worse than this.

  Chapter Twenty

  “This doesn’t look good,” Rex said nervously.

  Jed surveyed the circle of hostile faces and silently agreed. No one had been expecting this, not even Amora if the way she was gripping his arm tightly and pressing into his back was any indication.

  “What are we going to do?” Jonathon whispered from beside him.

  “Stay calm,” Jed whispered back. “There’s far too many of them for us to make a fight of it.” He estimated there were upwards of fifty warriors tightening the cordon around them, and although they were white men their clothing told him they were not Noragin. He looked over his shoulder at Amora. “Who are they?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Seeing the fear on her face told him she not only had no inkling of who these people were but also what they were capable of doing. What they were doing here puzzled him more than who they were. Fifty fully armed warriors with swords, shields, spears and bows out here in the middle of the Forbidden Lands. What could it mean and what would they do to him and his companions?

  They were closing in now, close enough for him to make out each man’s features, and none of them were smiling. “Any idea what language they might speak?” he asked Amora.

  She shook her head. “They aren’t from any of the people that I know of.”

  “Any chance they could be from Chantros?”

  She shook her head again. “We are still a long way from Chantros. Besides, the stories say the Chantrosians are fair-haired and much taller than we are. These men are dark-haired and about the same height as Noragin men.”

  Jed put himself on his guard as a man stepped through the circle and approached him. Judging from his arrogant bearing he was the leader, and the way he was looking Jed up and down left him in no doubt he was disgusted at what he was seeing. “Sky-God,” he said contemptuously.

  “You speak our language?” Jed asked hopefully.

  “We speak the Sky-God tongue only when we have to,” he answered sourly, his look of contempt turning to admiration when his eyes fell on Amora. “What are the Sky-Gods doing in our land?”

  “We are travelling to Chantros.”

  A surprised pair of eyes quickly returned to Jed’s. “Chantros…what business have you with the Chantrosians?”

  “We seek their help in defeating our enemies.”

  Those eyes now radiated suspicion. “Enemies…why would the Chantrosians help the Sky-Gods enslave the people of this land…the Chantrosians are a peaceful people?”

  “It is the Sky-Gods we seek their help in defeating,” Jed said quickly.

  Suspicion rapidly turned to anger. “Do you think I am a fool? Are you trying to make me lose face before my warriors?”

  “I speak only the truth,” Jed insisted.

  “Sky-Gods do not make war against Sky-Gods.” The anger was mounting by the second. “Sky-Gods kill and steal and take our women and children.”

  “Yes, they do,” Jed agreed. “But we have come from over the ice to punish the Sky-Gods for what they are doing to this world.”

  “Sky-Gods punishing Sky-Gods?” His face screamed skepticism. “Do you expect me to believe that lie? Even our little children would not believe such a tale.”

  The conversation had reached a critical point. If Jed couldn’t convince him of their sincerity then this fellow was going to kill everyone except Amora. “Not all Sky-Gods are bad.”

  “They are in this world,” the warrior said bitterly.

  Jed saw his opportunity to turn it around. “But we don’t come from this world. We come from over the ice to stop Montrose and his Sky-Gods from taking over this world.”

  Jed studied the warriors face for his reaction, but he wasn’t giving anything away. Obviously his dealings with Montrose and his bunch had strongly affected his ability to trust anyone in the clothing of a Sky-God.

  “Is this true, Noragin?” he asked Amora.

  She nodded.

  “And are they really the enemies of the Sky-Gods?”

  She nodded again.

  “Come pretty one,” he said gently to her, “you have nothing to fear. You can speak the truth to us, we will not let them hurt you.”

  She stepped clear of Jed’s protection. “It is the truth. They have destroyed the Sky-Gods Death-Birds. All of them.”

  Jed detected a reaction in the fellows face this time. There was a healthy dose of hope mixed in with the skepticism now.

  “All of them?” he asked incredulously.

  “Yes, all of them, and many of the Sky-Gods lie dead because of this man,” she said, proudly looking up into Jed’s face. “He is the mightiest warrior the Noragin have ever seen.”

  Jed cringed. The last thing he needed right now was for her to brag about his military prowess to an obviously proud and hostile warrior. It would be the surest way to end up being challenged to prove his worth, and with a badly infected leg he would be no match for the young and agile combatant standing before him.

  The warrior looked him up and down again. “We shall see,” he said, before turning to his men. “Bring them,” he ordered.

  Jed felt the butt of a spear prod him cruelly in the back and so grabbing Amora by the hand he moved off in the direction he knew they wished him to go. He had no idea what they intended to do to them when they reached their destination, but he certainly hadn’t liked the way the warrior had looked longingly at Amora. Sick or not it looked as though he might have to fight the fellow after all.

  Rex and Jonathon had been relieved of their rifles and Jed’s knife had been taken from him. They were now completely at the mercy of their captors. There was one thing that had given him hope though, the warrior had heard of Chantros, and he had even mentioned them as being a peaceful people. He obviously knew of their existence, and maybe he even knew where their city was.

  If only he could win this fellows confidence he might be able to persuade
him to guide them straight to the doors of Chantros. But how to win him over was the problem. Difficult enough for a free man, for a prisoner almost impossible. He glanced surreptitiously around. Escape wouldn’t be easy either; it might even be impossible once they got back to their camp or village or wherever it was these people were living.

  Jed couldn’t see Jonathon’s face but he could see Rex’s, and he could tell he was mulling over the same things he was. His musings must have made him slip behind the pace a little for he suddenly felt that offending spear in his back again, only it was delivered with more aggression this time. Looking back over his shoulder he scowled at the young warrior brandishing it and was annoyed to catch him grinning at his achievement. With his leg bothering him and this unforeseen delay in reaching Chantros gnawing away at him he was in no mood for the young upstarts silly pranks.

  “Do that again and I’ll take it off you,” he growled menacingly.

  The grin dissolved immediately to be replaced by a look of contempt. Jed knew the young chap was sure to give him more trouble before they finally reached their destination, and it came ten minutes later as the party was negotiating their way through a maze of bubbling sulphur. Jed had slowed to pick his way carefully between two steaming pools when the wooden shaft hit him savagely between the shoulder blades. Spinning round he snatched the spear from the hands of the startled youth and tossed it into the depths of one of the boiling cauldrons.

  A howl of derision sprang from the youngster’s lips and in an instant he was upon Jed, blows raining down on the New Yorker from all directions. Jed skillfully blocked each amateur blow before landing a solid right hand on the warriors jaw, and then in his dazed state he was in no condition to parry Jed’s left hook and right cross that finally felled him.

  The chieftain strode purposely back along the line pushing his men to the side until he had stopped at the body of the unconscious warrior. “I told him he would meet his match one day if he kept treating our prisoners like that,” he said gravely, giving the youth a light kick with the toe of his boot before looking back at Jed. “It seems he finally has. Walk up the front with me.”