by Jason Tesar
Adair pressed on and within minutes he reached the bottom of the staircase. It ended at a tunnel which led away into the side of the rock face. The tunnel was completely dark and Adair had to move by feel once again. After a slow hundred yards, the passage began to slope downward and veer to the right. The slope gradually steepened until Adair almost tripped down another set of stairs. It was a strange sensation to be underneath the ocean and he marveled at how much work must have gone into building this place, aside from the fact that it seemed physically impossible.
Slowly, the tunnel began to lighten with the same orange glow. His pace quickened in the soft light, as he no longer needed to feel his way through the passage. After several more minutes of descending the curving steps, the tunnel opened up into an enormous cavern, hundreds of yards wide and equally as tall. Torches burned along the wall, casting an eerie light throughout what looked like a gigantic temple to some unknown god.
Or gods, Adair thought as he noticed great stone statues, at least a hundred feet tall, lining the perimeter of the cavern. Each one was shaped almost like a man, but their features were stretched vertically, with great wings that extended to either side of the statue. The tips of the wings touched the tips of the next statue, so that the whole cavern was encircled by them. Adair continued out of the mouth of the tunnel and ran down the remaining steps, which were carved into the wall of the cavern like the chasm above him. When he reached the floor of the cavern, his feet crunched into pure sand, like the shores of Bastul.
He looked down to take in this unexpected sight and noticed the bloody mess of his right foot. The severed sole of his sandal dragged uselessly across the sand, held to his leg by a thin strip of twisted leather. His foot had gone numb. Across the cavern was a lake whose water was still and smooth as glass. At the center of the lake was a stone dais, thirty feet across and only inches above the level of the water. Narrow footbridges of stone extended from the dais on opposite sides, arching over the water and ending at the sandy perimeter of the lake.
On the other side of the cavern was a large arched doorway. It appeared to be the only other way out of this place. A quick look around told Adair that it would be quicker to head straight over the dais via the footbridge than it would be to skirt the lake. Once his goal was set, he quickened his pace to a run.
The sand slowed his progress and sapped his already depleted energy. By the time he made it to the start of the footbridge, his pursuers spilled out of the tunnel behind him and onto the staircase. Adair ran with all his might up the narrow bridge, trying to keep his footing on the polished stone. His lead on the soldiers had lessened considerably and he feared that he would lose this race. His only hope now was to make it through the archway at the other side of the cavern and hopefully find a narrow corridor where he could defend himself against one man at a time. Even then, they would eventually wear him down.
Slowing little by little with every painful step, he looked across the cavern at the archway and tried to fix his will on getting through that doorway. Just as he took his first step on the dais, the dark hole of the archway began to change. There was movement inside it and Adair suspected that he had failed. When row upon row of soldiers filed out of the archway, Adair felt all hope drain from his body, like the wind being taken from the sails of a boat.
He stopped running and unexpectedly lost his footing on the slick surface. His left foot shot out from underneath him and he landed painfully on his elbow before sliding to a stop. Knowing that the chase was over, he lay back on the stone and stared up at the ceiling.
It only made the situation worse when he saw stars overhead. The ceiling above him had a huge hole right through the middle of it. It took a second before he saw the spiraling stairs and recognized it as the chasm with which he was already acquainted. He could see freedom right above him, but there was no way to reach it. He lifted his head to get a view of his odds at the last moments of his life. Altogether, there were about fifty archers and foot soldiers surrounding the lake. It was over.
Adair looked around and realized he was sitting roughly in the center of the stone dais. Its surface was polished like marble, and seemed to glow with a silver light. Just beneath the surface, as if encased in ice, was a strange pattern of concentric circles like the rings of a tree that had been frozen, then shattered. He ran his hand over the smooth surface and marveled at its translucency. Even more strange was that it was perfectly clean. Adair ran his finger over the surface and rubbed it with his thumb. Not even a speck of dust.
It’s beautiful. It looked like an altar. I guess it’s a fitting place to die.
He struggled to his feet as the soldiers advanced up the bridges on either side of him. They were within shooting range now and it was only a matter of seconds before he would see death. His thoughts turned to his family. Maeryn, with her beautiful blonde hair and gorgeous smile. Kael, with that inquisitive look in his eyes. Tears began to stream down his face as he realized that he would never see them again in this life.
He looked back to the soldiers marching toward him and noticed that they looked wavy and distorted as if he was seeing them through poorly crafted glass. He rubbed the tears from his eyes and looked again, but his vision didn’t change. Adair looked down at his feet and saw his own reflection on the dais spiraling inward. He suddenly felt very heavy as if he had consumed too much wine. He looked up again at the soldiers and saw that they were retreating with looks of astonishment on their faces. Their images continued to distort and pull inward toward Adair as he felt the weight of the world pressing in on him. Suddenly, a burst of blue light flashed in his eyes, sending a jolt of pain through his head. It was the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness.
Chapter 7
The panel of men staring at Maeryn would have been intimidating, if she were the type of woman to be easily intimidated. But she wasn’t. Though she was doing her best to appear that way and the men were buying it.
“Tell us the story again, from the beginning,” muttered one of the interrogators.
“I already told you,” she began, using the same emotionally stretched voice that she had used from the onset of this interrogation. “I woke up in the early morning and he was gone…” She trailed off as tears began to well-up in her eyes. She covered her face with her hands to show that this was all too much for her. The emotion she felt was real enough, but if Adair wanted the council to know what he was doing, he would have told them. He was definitely in some kind of trouble and she wasn’t going to be punished for it. After all, she was ignorant really. Adair hadn’t told her anything, probably to protect her. But he did seem different before he disappeared—distant, thinking to himself more than usual. Of course she didn’t include any of this information in her story. These men weren’t trying to help Adair; they were hoping to catch a deserter. The Empire had no tolerance for anyone who was not wholly devoted to it.
“I’m sorry,” she continued after pulling herself together. “It’s just…he is always being called out in the middle of the night for one reason or another. His position is very demanding. It’s as though the city couldn’t function without him.”
“On the contrary,” stated the man seated at the center of the table. “The city will function without him. In fact, it is the judgment of this council that all possessions and responsibilities of your husband will be given over to an appointed steward for a period of one week.”
The statement hit Maeryn like a wave, forcing the breath from her lungs. Under Orudan law a man’s possessions included his wife and children. The interrogator was trying to scare her into giving them information. It was working. She started to cry for real this time.
The interrogator’s voice rose so as to be heard clearly above her sobbing. He wasn’t about to repeat himself. “If your husband does not return in a week, then the appointed steward will gain ownership of those possessions and responsibilities.”
In the silence that followed, the words began to sink in. Maeryn cont
inued to cry outwardly to show the interrogator that he had made his point, while inwardly she wept at the thought of Adair being replaced so quickly. How could they treat us like this, after all he sacrificed for them?
“Please find him,” she pleaded.
“That is all,” stated the interrogator and the whole panel of men rose to leave the room.
As they filed out the door, Thaddius separated from the group and came over to Maeryn. He waited until they were alone before speaking. “Adair left a message with one of my servants that he would be gone for more than a day. He wouldn’t have done that if he was deserting. I tried to tell them, but they wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry.”
Maeryn simply nodded in response, wiping the tears from her face.
Thaddius slowly backed up, then turned and followed after the other members of the council.
Maeryn counted to ten before she stopped crying. I think they were convinced, she assured herself with a smile of satisfaction. Men like that have no idea what to do with an emotional woman. They only know how to fight wars and give orders.
The following day, Maeryn stood on the balcony outside of her bedroom. The sun was well above the horizon and the city glittered with the yellow light reflecting off the surface of the water. She watched a procession of wagons and marching soldiers wind through the streets of the city. Red banners at the front and rear of the procession waved in the breeze, the gold eagle emblem of the Orudan Empire sparkling as it caught the sunlight.
“You’re not in charge yet,” she said to the man inside the covered carriage half a mile away. “You’re only a steward!”
The citizens of Bastul lined the streets, waving their hands at his carriage as it passed them. She was disgusted by him already. You would think the Emperor himself had come to visit us. Adair never flaunted his power; he didn’t need to. People tended to respect him because of his character first, and his power second. Unlike this man, who is obviously trying to make up for something he lacks!
The procession continued along the cobblestone road leading up to the mansion that Maeryn had called home for many years. The pace was slowed considerably when the road became a series of switchbacks as it climbed the hill. When the procession finally reached the top and entered the courtyard, Maeryn decided to go downstairs and meet this prideful man who thought he could take over for Adair.
Exiting the house, Maeryn walked through the garden situated between the guest wing and slaves’ quarters of the mansion. Adair had the garden built as a gift to Maeryn, following the customs of her ancestors. Trimmed trees and shrubs dotted the landscape, separated by rings of brightly colored flowers. The north end of this secluded paradise was open to the hilltop courtyard, containing stables, soldiers’ housing, and various other structures, all surrounded by a pale stone wall.
She stopped at the entrance to the garden and waited at the top of a short flight of steps that descended to the gravel courtyard. The last of the rearguard were just entering through the north gate when, farther to her left, a guard reached up and opened the door to the most expensive looking carriage of the whole procession. Maeryn was glad that she had sent Kael away at first light to spend the week with Saba. Until she knew what kind of man this steward was, it was better to keep her son away from him.
The man who climbed out of the carriage blinked at the harsh morning light as if he had just awoken. He was a tall man, taller than Adair, but much thinner. His jawline was narrow and coupled with his protruding nose, made him look like a rodent. He was dressed as every other Orud male of importance; he wore a pure white tunic underneath a metal cuirass. The sculpted abdomen and chest muscles of the cuirass looked out of place on his narrow frame. Over his clothing he wore a red cloak fastened at the left shoulder with a golden torc. He appeared uncomfortable in this elaborate style of dress. So you have no prior experience!
He smiled when he looked in Maeryn’s direction and spoke loud enough for everyone in the courtyard to hear him. “Hello. You must be Maeryn.” He spread his arms wide and lifted them up to the sky, keeping his gaze fixed on her. “Now this is a mansion fit for an emperor.”
After his brilliant observation, he strode confidently over to the garden’s entrance and climbed the stairs, stopping when he reached Maeryn. His height was imposing and he knew it. He stood uncomfortably close, by social standards, looking down on her. “I am Lemus,” he stated with a smile that was too big. “You may show me around my new home.”
“You’re to be a steward only,” Maeryn corrected, “until my husband returns.”
The tall man glanced quickly around the courtyard to see if anyone had overheard. Suddenly, he bent down until his mouth was close to Maeryn’s ear and she flinched in response. When he spoke his voice was a whisper. “If you ever speak to me in that tone again I’ll have that disrespectful tongue of yours cut out of your mouth. If the coward ever does turn up, he won’t be allowed to return to his former position.” When he straightened up to his full height, he still had a smile on his face. He gestured past Maeryn toward the garden. “You lead the way.”
The days dragged on and Maeryn’s anxiety increased. Her once optimistic attitude about Adair’s absence was being steadily worn down with every passing moment. It wasn’t unusual for Adair to be gone for long periods of time, but this was starting to scare her. It only complicated her emotions to be sharing a house with Lemus. The more time she spent with him, the surer she became of his mental instability. He had the look of a starved and unpredictable animal. After showing him around the mansion and answering hundreds of his questions, Maeryn tried her best to avoid him, spending most of her time on the balcony staring at the city below. On days when Lemus stayed close to the house, she would go with one of the slaves into the city and help shop for food and other supplies.
As the morning sun rose over the bay, Maeryn watched from her balcony as she always did. Clouds had rolled in during the night and the sun was struggling to warm the air through the gray blanket. The skies over Bastul only lightened to a hazy purple. It made everything look drab which seemed fitting to Maeryn. It had been weeks now, but Adair had not returned. She feared the worst, that he was dead. Nothing except death would have kept him away for so long. Tears began to well up in her eyes and blurred her view of the city below. There was bitterness growing inside her. To be honest, it had been there for some time. It was the Empire and its stranglehold on their lives that angered her.
When she first met Adair, he had taken refuge in her parent’s barn, having been wounded in a battle that took place a short distance from her home in the north. She nursed him back to health with her mother’s help and in time, got to know Adair. The two of them fell in love and when it was time for Adair to leave, Maeryn’s father begged him to take Maeryn. It wasn’t a difficult decision for either of them; Maeryn was the most beautiful woman Adair had ever seen, Adair was a kind and respectable man who offered a life apart from the harsh conditions in which Maeryn had been raised.
But Adair was a soldier, and she knew what kind of life came with marrying a soldier, though Adair’s love blinded her from that reality for a long time. He was a man of genuine character. The confusing part was how he could be so kind and still function as a soldier. Didn’t soldiers need to be rough and crude by nature in order to do what was required of them? When they were first married she used to worry about his safety for that same reason. However, it wasn’t long before Adair’s reputation on the battlefield made its way to her ears. Everyone said he had a way with people. He was a born leader. People listened to him out of respect, without having to be ordered. He inspired others by being ferocious in the face of enemies and he instinctively knew where and how to move on the battlefield. Slowly, his reputation earned him higher and higher positions of authority. Eventually he was granted the position of Colonel and with it, governorship of Bastul. But somehow, the enormous responsibility became a weight around his neck. And it wasn’t just Adair; Maeryn felt it as well. They started to feel trappe
d. Now Adair was gone. The probability of his death caused a loneliness in Maeryn’s heart that went deeper than anything she had experienced before. She was bitter that their lives always had to be in accordance with the goals of the Empire. The good of the nation always outweighs the good of individuals. She was tired of living a life dictated by others.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
The voice behind her was startling.
“The Southern Jewel is what they call it in Orud.” Lemus was staring past her and looking at the city which surrounded the bay and sprawled into the foothills of the mountain-range to the east. If he realized he had startled her, he wasn’t showing it. He seemed to be reveling in his newfound power.
Maeryn wasn’t sure how to respond and only managed to nod and smile.
“Now what do you have to cry about?” he asked in an almost believably caring tone, noticing the tears on her face.
She just looked at him and couldn’t manage to find any words. If he was dense enough not to realize, then he could go on wondering for all she cared.
He walked over to the railing and stood next to her. “I think I’ve been pretty generous so far,” he stated calmly. “You’ve had several days to yourself. I don’t know of many men who would wait that long for a new wife.”
Maeryn’s heart began to race at the sound of his lusting voice. She knew what it meant to have another man assume all of Adair’s responsibilities. She knew that her body would soon belong to Lemus as well, but the transfer of authority hadn’t been made official yet. It was clear that Lemus didn’t care.