The Histories of Earth, Books 1-4: In the Window Room, A Prince of Earth, All the Worlds of Men, and Worlds Unending

by Steven J. Carroll

  �� I would also think that Quill’s slowness here, might also have something to do with the temperature. Since reptiles, even gigantic ones, are cold-blooded, he could have been feeling sluggish, both because of the loss of his tail, and because of this new colder climate in Gleomu.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  An Unlikeable Prison

  If there were any prison more unlikeable, Tavora could not think of it; Tied to a post, uncomfortably, with her arms pulled behind her, and if that were not enough, she was tied to the same post as her father. This was the worst of all punishments.

  The sun had set, and the stars were out above Ismere. Toward the center of the desert army’s camp, in the place where the stolen globe was kept, golden orbs began to shoot out across the plains, launching toward the embattled city.

  Tavora watched for quite a while, allowing her disgust to build, knowing that her own father was responsible for this siege of her homeland, though not yet knowing the full extent of the carnage. After several more minutes, she heard shouts, faint at first, but growing, and spread throughout the city.

  She felt sick to her stomach. She let it show in her expression, but from the angle at which she sat, her father could not see this.

  ���Does this happen every night?��� she asked, as if it were both a question and an accusation, and as a new wave of light orbs flew toward, and returned from the city, and a new wave of screams began.

  He could discern the anger in her voice, and that made him all the more sad, which he did not think was possible. ���Yes, every night… without fail,��� Oded answered.

  And then he went on to explain, to Tavora’s horror, that every night waves of brutal soldiers would descend upon the city; Attacking whomever they could find, no matter the age, nor how innocent those persons might be. And that every night, those waves of soldiers would be sent away from Gleomu to be healed of their wounds, and would return every morning, completely recovered. No matter how egregious their wounds had been, there would be no sign of injury.

  ���An invincible, un-killable army,��� Oded said.

  After this, she asked, how long this had been happening. Though her father did not answer her question directly, but responded to the broader question. Saying that, for the whole of that past year they had not stopped fighting, as if war was a part of their very being.

  In every city of that world, they would conduct these same nightly raids, in the exact fashion.

  ���Most cities, even the very large ones, could not last much more than a few days,��� he said.

  And he continued, saying that eventually news of these conquests had grown so great, that entire nations would send out emissaries, and surrender, even before the first battle. And some even wished to be conquered (for instance, the pirate nations in the eastern seas), if that would grant them some higher position in Surru’s new empire.

  ���Yes, I see,��� Tavora said somewhat rudely, ���but how long has this been going on?��� she asked, wanting to know about Ismere in particular.

  The cries from the city began to grow more and more sparse. Perhaps the raid was subsiding for the night, she thought. And she saw that she was right, as the last wave of orbs began returning from the city.

  ���Almost two months,��� her father answered. ���Two months of this… every night.���

  It was a thought so abhorrent, that Tavora could not help but let some of her emotions out at that moment.

  ���They should have killed you…��� she started to say, softly, with her face turned away from her father, and toward her beloved city.

  ���That’s what you deserve,��� she said, now louder. ���If they’re so brutal, why not just do it? Why keep you alive this whole year?���

  Oded closed his eyes, feeling his shame, and her anger, and realizing that he would not even have sympathy from his own and only daughter.

  ���They are killing me,��� he answered. ���A slow death is still death.���

  A little later, orbs began traveling away from Gleomu. So that those deadly, merciless soldiers could be healed of their wounds: No matter how deep, or how severe.

  After the last orb had left that night, the plains grew colder in the darkness. (For in Gleomu, it was already within the first few weeks of winter, and soon it would begin to snow, no telling when.) But that night, as her mind began to wonder, Tavora had another very reasonable thought:

  ���Then why not kill me?��� she asked. ���Why would they keep me alive?���

  ���They won’t,��� Oded said, reluctantly. ���They are waiting until daylight, so that the whole city can see it.���

  There was a long pause, then her father said the last words of that night; Since Tavora could no longer force herself to stay awake, because of the physical and emotional exhaustion of the day, and because the cold of the plains had drained away all her energy.

  Oded explained that, that is how they conduct all executions, during the first hours of daylight, for the whole city to see. ���It is a favorite saying of the Desert King. ‘With death there are no second chances. Why waste it?’��� Oded explained.

  And the last thing that he said, before his daughter had fallen asleep, was to tell her that he was sorry. Though she was too tired to bear any apologies that night, and so she did not reply.

  Chapter Forty

  Tomorrow Morning

  She was ten years old, again. And the world was brighter and more dream-like than she remembered. It was the day on which they bought Myre from the market, and Tavora walked home with her mother.

  As a young girl, she held the rope, leading her beautiful new horse back home. The sturdy chords felt rough in her grasp, and her mother walked along, keeping a comforting hand on the old plow horse.

  ���And will you take good care of her?��� her mother had said.

  Though before Tavora could respond, her mother clarified what ���good care��� would mean. ���You will feed her every morning, and bring her blankets when she is cold?��� her mother asked.

  ���Of course, I will,��� Tavora said, petting Myre’s neck and mane. ���I love her. She’s such a beautiful new horse,��� Tavora said, as they walked through the plains, bringing that old plow horse home with them for the first time.

  At those words, Tavora’s mother gave her young daughter a subtle glance and a smile. ���We will see,��� she said.

  ���We will see, what?��� Tavora asked, jutting out her bottom lip with a pout, since she thought her mother had not believed her. Though that was not the point her mother was making.

  And so to explain, her mother said, ���We will see if you love her, tomorrow morning.���

  Then, oddly, the ground began to shake violently, and there was a voice that came from the sky, or from someplace where she could not tell where it came from, saying, ���Wake up, Tavora,��� the voice said. ���Please, you must wake up.���

  At this, the real Tavora awoke, opening her drowsy eyelids in the cold. But still she saw no one.

  Some moments before, wrapped up in her favorite Gleomean coat (one that was the color of evergreens, and so fantastic that she would often try to wear it as many times as she could, before people took notice), Barbara Cholley walked on her own through the fields outside the city. Though even with her coat, she was shivering: not from cold, but from fright.

  The sun was still not up when she’d slid down a rope from the city wall, and while she crept across the plains, disturbing only a thin layer of frost that had settled on the tall grasses overnight. Her stomach churned, burning with anxiety. This frost would give her away, she thought, and she might have been right. An invisible person can hide and run from a lot of things, but not from her own footsteps.

  In the seventeen years of Barbara’s life, thus far, she had had more than
her fair share of dangerous circumstance. And this endeavor into the ranks of the Desert King’s army, certainly followed suit. The soldiers in the enemy’s camp were strewn about in an unordered mess. She had to step over and around them, hoping that her footsteps remained unnoticed, and also that she would not accidentally touch any of them.

  With delicate movements, Barbara made it safely to her friend (as the sunlight began to glow behind the mountains, showing that the sun would soon be up), and she shook her till she awoke. Saying with an eagerly whispered voice, ���Wake up, Tavora. Please, you must wake up.��� And with that, you have a better understanding of this invisible voice that spoke.

  And once Tavora was fully awake, she mumbled her words. Saying louder than she wished to, ���Stop shaking me,��� she grumbled, ���They’ll see you.���

  It seemed odd to say to an invisible person. But by this Tavora had meant that every time Barbara had touched her, her invisibility was transferred, causing Tavora to blink in and out of sight.

  ���Oh, I forgot,��� said the invisible voice, frustrated with herself. ���Hold still,��� the voice of Barbara continued, with the sound of a knife coming out of its sheath.

  The blade dug through the heavy ropes, and in less than a minute Tavora was free, and holding tightly to her friend’s hand, made invisible as well. And both girls spoke in whispers, trying not to be heard.

  ���Thank you,��� Tavora said, deeply emphasizing the words. ���So… back to the city?��� she asked, seeming eager to return at once.

  Though Barbara did not answer her, but pointed with her free hand toward the battered man tied up beside them. ���Who’s that there?��� she asked. Then realizing the awful truth. ���Is that your father?��� she said, with a bit of surprise in her voice, that sounded in a way like an accusation.

  ���So, what if he is?��� Tavora answered, with a sharpness she’d not often displayed.

  ���Well, you’re not just going to leave him… are you?��� Barbara asked.

  Glancing at her sleeping, but treacherous father, and then back at her good friend, saying with a sigh that turned into a cold mist in the air. ���You’ll have to do it… I don’t think I could force it out of myself,��� she said.

  Tavora’s dark and speckled gold eyes seemed deeply hurt, and Barbara knew this was not the time for an argument. And so she chose her words with care, and the appropriate level of kindness.

  ���We’ll both do it,��� Barbara answered. And she directed Tavora as they both knelt with the knife, Barbara guiding her reluctant friend to make cuts into the ropes that held Tavora’s father.

  Though before they could finish, they heard icy words on that cold morning that clenched their insides.

  ���You might be invisible, children, but I am not blind,��� a voice called out from behind them. Barbara and Tavora exchanged their own looks of terror. ���There are two sets of footprints, two breaths in the cold air. There is no use in hiding. And if you run, my lions will find you,��� said the voice of King Surru.

  And the girls knew they were caught. So Barbara pressed the center stone on her medallion. And one might imagine, that the King would have killed them there were they stood. Yet, he had plans for them; And hopefully, as this murderous king wished, a more public death for them both.

  And therefore, within the hour, Barbara Cholley of Earth, and Tavora, daughter of Oded, were made to stand on a hill overlooking the city. So that the entire remaining population of Ismere could see their deaths, and fear Surru all the more.

  Chapter Forty-One

  An Invincible Army

  It was well known by the Desert King and his forces, that the cavalry of Ismere had been decimated, in their many attempts to retake the globe. And that morning a small regiment of Gleomu’s remaining horsemen, which then numbered less than two dozen riders, appeared in front of the city walls. Led by King Corwan, they all stood perfectly still, as stone statues.

  And Surru, seated on his beastly winged-lion, shouted to King Corwan across the tall-grassed expanse. ���Have you come to fight me?��� he yelled, with a bit of scorn. ���I could slay your entire race, and you would never see me!��� he said, pressing the center stone of Barbara’s medallion that he now had around his neck.

  But Corwan yelled in reply to the invisible king, ���Are you so afraid of death, Surru? Show yourself, and we will fight as men.���

  A morning breeze blew the edges of the good king’s robe, and his long hair, though he was the only one of his cavalry soldiers who showed any movement at all. After a moment, bathed in deep silence, the invisible king pressed the center stone again. For he was far too prideful to deny such a public challenge, by a mere mortal king.

  Then Corwan patted the neck of his horse, and he began to ride toward Surru, and his Desert army, and toward the captured girls on the rolling hilltop overlooking the city. Every eye in that great waiting army was fixed upon Corwan, who rode on ahead, and upon his feeble band of cavalrymen, who stood motionless behind him. Though as he galloped, he reached behind himself to press something that was fastened to the back of his saddle. And as he did, his men began to gallop along as well, following in exact time with his own pace.

  From up upon the hill, Surru gave the word and arrows began to fly at those foolhardy horsemen, who dared to attack so great an adversary. Yet, the arrows were deflected by King Corwan’s long shield, and fell past all of his men, so that no one was injured. And still they rode, increasing their speed, but keeping an exact distance from their king, at the head of the attack.

  A roar that shook the stones of Ismere to their foundations, came from Surru’s great army, as he and an innumerable sea of his forces, riding upon horses and his chief captains on winged-lions, and a wealth of conscripted soldiers on foot (from nearly every nation of that world), went out to meet that insignificant band of soldiers.

  And Barbara and Tavora stood upon that low hill, and had a plain view of this tidal wave of armed men breaking upon Corwan’s tiny army. And they saw the first swords’ blades begin to slice at Corwan’s stone-faced riders. Yet, their weapons split through them as apparitions, or as ghosts, for though they looked like men they were not men at all. They were only the images of stalwart warriors. They were photographs.

  And at the same moment, Surru clashed swords with Corwan, and the brute force of their blows knocked both men from their animals. Falling, Corwan rolled backward off his horse, simultaneously crushing Ata’s three-dimensional camera, that had been speedily modified, the night before, into a motion picture camera, and strapped to the rear of Corwan’s saddle.

  And now you should probably know that this had been a part of the five light travelers’ plans since the very beginning. Since they were first exiled to the Giant world, one year prior.�� And of this Surru should have been aware: Perhaps the most deadly thing to give an old genius, and a foursome of above average young persons, would be an entire year in which to plot their victory. And this was perhaps Surru’s greatest blunder, that he had underestimated them.

  Yet, at the present, the battle of the kings was still ongoing. Each strike was equally met, for neither man was an amateur. A massive crowd of enemy soldiers gathered around to witness this culmination of war, forming a dense, tightening ring around the two kings.

  Though there were many harsh bruises, and a dislocated finger on Corwan’s left hand, neither men could land a blow, until Corwan came down with the end of his shield onto Surru’s shoulder, forcing the evil king to have to change his sword to his lesser hand. Which would have meant ruin for any other fighter, but Surru still had Barbara’s medallion. He pressed it as Corwan went to deal the final blow.

  Invisibly, Surru rolled away from the strike, and swiped at King Corwan’s side. Immediately, the good king raised his shield, and pressed his palm to the wound to hold back the flow of blood. Deliberately, Ki
ng Corwan swung his long shield in wide arcing movements, to keep back the invisible king.

  The crowd around the kings grew silent for once, in anticipation of the end. But because of this, in the distance they heard shouts coming from their own camp.

  And when Corwan heard it, he began to smile. ���Do you hear that, Surru?��� he asked, oddly enjoying himself.

  However, the vile king did not answer, for fear of giving away his position. And at this, the good king began to grow concerned; For he was not randomly swinging his shield about, but was systematically swiping over every place where the grass had been trampled, and now he had come to the end, which could only mean one thing.

  As swift and as soundly as he could, with that deep gash in his side, Corwan swung in a complete circle, striking the cowardly villain as he attempted to stab the wounded Corwan in the back.

  For a half-second, they both blinked invisible. Then an unseen mass landed with a thud on the grass, leaving the imprint of a man.

  Corwan struggled to stand tall, his hand soaked with blood from his own wound. His voice strained the words, ���You should surrender your forces to me, and I shall give them pardon,��� he said.

  Pressing the medallion’s center stone, Surru appeared before them again, sprawled upon the ground and looking defeated. Yet, this did not bleed through into his arrogant voice, which seemed more sure of itself than ever.

  He scoffed. ���Ha! The beaten king, making his demands… And why should I surrender? [raising to his feet] You are surrounded, and your city lies in waste.��� He laughed, wiping a line of blood from his own forehead. ���Why should I fear you?���

  Though Corwan did not answer immediately, but gazed up at the sky, as if expecting to see something. Then he turned to the Desert King and answered, ���Because you are no longer invincible,��� he said, using all his energy to speak loud enough for the entire Desert army to hear.