The people were not going to let them get away so easily, however. As soon as they realized that Zenak and Tak were running away, they took after them as if their lives depended on it. Tak turned around and saw the crowd close behind them. Even the old women were running fast.
“We’d better hurry, they are close behind,” Tak said to Zenak.
“No problem, when we get to the stables you shut the doors as quickly as possible,” Zenak said. “I’ll get the marks.”
As soon as they entered the stables, Tak bolted the stable door shut and Zenak grabbed two marks. The crowd hurled itself against the shut door. They were banging and clamoring on it as they tried to get at the two men. It was as if a pack of wild, rabid ryaks were outside the stable.
Zenak picked the stable master’s riding mark. This animal was black, sleek, beautiful, and the swiftest animal in town. Tak’s mark was white with a black mane and a black tail. It was a bit heavier than Zenak’s mark and thus not as swift. But it could still outrun any war mark. So, since speed was the only requisite for Tak and Zenak to release themselves from this afflicted town, these two marks were perfect for them.
“You picked a fine mark,” Tak said to Zenak as Zenak finished looping the saddle on.
“I have an eye for marks, ale, and swords,” Zenak replied. “I love them all.” A note of sadness crossed Zenak’s voice as the memory of his faithful Gam came to him. For a moment the clamoring of the townsfolk of Gaston on the other side of the door was blocked out of Zenak’s mind. Instead, he thought of Gam and all the good and bad times they had had together. He could see Gam and himself crashing into battle wreaking havoc all around. He could see Gam setting into motion his fierce hooves as Zenak plowed the riders down. He remembered the many times that he would have died had it not been for the quick responses of his faithful mark. Zenak also thought of the happy times when he would take a woman to a stream and drink wine with her. How he loved to drink wine, be with a woman, and watch his magnificent war mark frolic in the fields as if he were a mark-colt. But now it was over, his mark of many years was dead; killed by people who knew not what they were doing. Zenak came back to reality and listened in anger at the screaming and cursing people outside the stable door.
“Let’s get out of here,” Zenak said to Tak.
The two men mounted their marks and went to the stable door.
“Try not to kill anymore people,” Tak asked Zenak. “They are still my people and I still love them no matter what has overtaken them.”
“I’ll try,” Zenak replied.
Zenak bent down and unbolted the door. Then he and Tak backed up and waited for the Gastonians to open the door. They did not have to wait long. For no sooner had Zenak unbolted the door and he and Tak had backed up, than the door was flung open by the crowd. At first there was not a sound to be heard from the crowd or the two protagonists. The people just stared at Zenak and Tak with red, swollen, glaring eyes. The two men stared back. Tak felt as if he would cry when he saw the crazed state his friends and relatives were in and Zenak felt sick with disgust as he looked at the blank faces. Then one of the leaders of the crowd gave a loud war whoop and the crowd attacked Zenak and Tak.
“No killing,” Tak yelled out. Zenak looked at Tak in disbelief for how were they to escape? Then he had an idea. Zenak grabbed a pitchfork and broke off the fork. Tak did the same and the two of them spurred their marks into the crowd with their newly made clubs spinning. The clubs were effective. They were strong enough to knock an attacker down but usually the club would cause no damage. So as the two heroes pushed their marks through the crowd to effectuate their escape, no one in the town was hurt badly and none of the townspeople were killed. The people, however, were doing anything they could to get at Zenak and Tak and to kill them. It was all Zenak could do to keep from unsheathing his sword when he saw men attacking him with spears and swords. But his club was efficient and usually, as it was when he was wielding his broadsword, it only took a couple of strokes to put the antagonists down on the ground either knocked out or dazed from the battering club. Finally, they were free of the doorway and almost free of the crowd. Tak was happy that no one else was killed and Zenak was also satisfied at these bloodless results. Then a silent arrow struck Tak in his back and stuck out of his chest. Tak wheeled on his mark and valiantly tried to keep riding, but he fell to the ground. Zenak was stunned. He felt as if he had seen his own son die in battle. Then Zenak quickly pulled his dagger and threw it into the assassin’s chest. The young girl, Tak’s lover of only two days prior, fell to the ground grasping the dagger helplessly. Zenak was angry for he had clubbed this girl earlier as she attacked him with a spear. He should have killed her.
The sight of blood enraged Zenak even more and he drew his great broadsword and discarded the club. He was going to bury it into every man, woman, and child in the town. Revenge was going to be sweet, for this town had killed his loyal mark and his only friend on this harrowing journey in search of his beloved Mara and child. But as he was prepared to do this revengeful deed, Zenak glanced at Tak and saw the young man staring intently at his king.
“No more, kill no more,” Tak mouthed to Zenak, then his head slumped to the ground never to rise again. The young hunter still had love in his heart, love that Zenak had lost from years of fighting and killing. Zenak, still poised for the slaughter, stared at the young man. He looked at the crowd of people massing together preparing to charge him. They were a pitiful lot. Many of them were bleeding from minor wounds and all of them stared at Zenak from eyes that were not theirs. They were sleepless, hypnotized eyes set deep in their sockets and red from no sleep and madness. Zenak sheathed his sword and looked west. There were no obstacles now so he kicked the black riding mark and quickly rode out of Gaston. As he rode out he passed the maggot-riddled corpse of his beloved Gam. He did not give the corpse a second glance but rode right by. A close inspection of Zenak would have revealed tears welling up in his eyes. He and Gam had known many good and bad times.
He stopped his mark about a half karn from the town on a hillock and saw his short-lived friend’s body being hacked at by the townsfolk with their swords and pitchforks.
“Vokar shall die for this,” Zenak swore to himself. Then he let out the loud clear resounding western war whoop, turned his mark back toward Soci, and rode into the night and out of Gaston forever.
Chapter 13
Less than an hour after vanishing from Gaston, Mara, the child, and the high priest, Vokar, reappeared in a lush green valley with the walls of Mea, the capital, of Soci, in sight. The trip had been a totally exhilarating experience for all three of them. Mara said that she felt as if she had no weight at all and that her body had been rushing into a warm wind that gave her a complete feeling of security. For Vokar it had been a religious and mind-bending experience. He experienced the Nothingness that became the point of explosion to create the Universe. He had felt the absolute lack of anything and the gaining of all through the subjugation of his wants and allowing himself to be nothing. He could see in all directions and see within himself at the same time. He had become a part of the One and of Nothing. In that short time of travel through time and space, he had gained more of the cosmic forces than he had previously acquired from years of study. He gained even more power than he had on the hill outside Gaston the night before he hypnotized the town. He never knew that such powers existed and he wondered if there were even more to acquire. He felt as powerful as possible though. He realized the subtleties that were going to occur in Gaston when Zenak arrived. And he even realized that the mesmerizing he had done was primitive to what he could now do. He smiled at such power. Even the infant prince had experienced a great deal of contentment from the time-bending journey. Never before had the child slept so soundly in its wicked mother’s arms than it had during its journey through another dimension from Gaston to Mea.
Soci was medicine for a weary traveler’s eyes. She was beautiful. Her green, rolling,
lush land was a change for the better compared to Deparne’s endless wheat fields, thick, short bushes, and small hills. Soci’s countryside was a paradise, thought of by many, but experienced by few. For few people ever came into Soci and even fewer gained entrance into the greenest most fertile area of the country, the capital city Mea. It was said that sorcerers kept Soci, and to a greater extent the lands surrounding Mea, over-abundantly fertile. So fertile was the land that a person could leisurely reach out his bedroom window and pluck a ripe, sweet fruit from the constantly pregnant fruit trees. A person could plant any seed from any plant, tree, or bush and within a week it would be full-grown.
Mea, as well as all of Soci, was situated in the harsh, cold mountains of the Be-In Mountain range that the great Mt. Volski was a part of. Even though Mea sat at the highest point on one of the highest mountains, she stayed the same cool, but comfortable temperature the year round. The reason for the over-abundance of fertile land and the near-perfect weather was that each desirable environmental aspect in Soci was controlled by a wizard. For example, the weather was controlled by one sorcerer, while the fruit trees were kept constantly abundant by another; the grass was kept green by another, and so on and so on. Each sorcerer concentrated all of his powers on a pre-specified aspect of Soci’s environment and kept charge of it for a lifetime. These sorcerers lived in an ancient castle just outside the walls of Mea. The castle was guarded at all times by the purple demon of Varsoula. A demon so fierce that any man who looked upon it would shrivel and die in seconds.
When a sorcerer reached old age and could no longer perform his function adequately, a male child from the city was plucked from the hands of a midwife at the moment of delivery. For twenty years the child would be trained in its specialty, and then would take over the old wizard’s place as keeper of his special task. The old wizard could then release hold of his task and leave the castle for the woods surrounding Mea. In the woods he would find a large tree and wrap himself around it. In a period of a few days the tree would absorb the old man. In this way the wizards would live on in the trees, contented and blissful. The people of Soci knew when a new wizard had taken over because there would be a slight change in that aspect of the environment; thus, the fruit would become sweeter or sourer. The mother then knew which wizard her son was by counting back twenty years from when the child was stolen from her awaiting breasts. These particular wizards were very important to Soci and contamination from visitors made the Socians very wary of any travelers.
“This is the land from which I will rule,” Vokar said as he stared at the massive walls of Mea.
“It is so beautiful,” Mara exclaimed, agog from the green splendor that surrounded her. Never in her entire life had Mara seen nature look so beautiful. It seemed to her that the gods had given all the glorious colors and rich greens to Soci and had given the leftovers to Deparne.
“I’ve heard that a great sorcerer, the first wizard of the Island, developed this land the way it appears by dropping his blood all over these mountains,” Vokar remarked. Even with the seemingly infinite powers and wisdom that he had lately acquired, Vokar was totally ignorant of the special wizards that kept Soci a paradise.
“Let’s go. This path will lead us to my capital,” Vokar said as he pointed to a narrow path leading through the bright-green foliage.
Then both of the marks bearing their human loads took off at an easy trot through the well-worn path.
When Vokar and Mara reached the walls of Mea, they were astonished by their immensity. When they had first approached the walls looked huge, but when they rode up to them, a ride that took two hours, they comprehended their true size. They were at least 300 feet high and 100 feet thick. Buildings used for storage stood on top of the walls and made them look even more formidable. The gates to Mea were made of ivory and were carved with the history of Soci from the beginning of the wizards to the present. The carvings were intricately detailed relating each major event of Soci’s history. Each one of these events took up one panel on the gate. The entire gate, however, was totally filled with Soci’s history, with the next-to-last panel on the gate featuring the present reigning king. In the last panel stood a man and woman with a child, and behind them stood a man of powerful stature bearing a massive sword. The last four figures, however, were faceless.
Upon arriving at the gates Vokar and Mara were awestruck by their beauty and strength. Vokar stared at the gates for a moment and lost himself in reverie that he was soon to possess the power to order these gates to open or close. He took little notice at the figures. To him they were barely interesting art that some ancients had wasted their time on. Mara also was lost in reverie. She, however, was thinking that these gates were probably worth more than her whole palace in Balbania and how wonderful it was that soon they were going to be hers.
Vokar soon shook himself free of his daydreaming and hurriedly rang the heavy bell next to the gates so he could get into the city as fast as possible. It took only moments after Vokar had rung the bell for the great gates to swing open. Vokar was rather shocked at this for he thought he would be questioned before the gates were opened, but he wasn’t and he wasn’t going to press the matter. So he rushed Mara through the gates and he followed right after her. They had to leave the marks behind for the tunnel in the wall was too small for the marks to enter. Mara rushed through the tunnel for it was dark and the only light was the one at the end. She didn’t like the dark, suffocating tunnel. They soon entered the main street of the great city. Both of them were amazed at the grander and the splendor. Every building was surrounded by a small luxurious garden filled with fruit trees and vegetable plants that bore vegetables larger than any Mara or Vokar had ever seen. The buildings themselves were either gold or silver plated and shone with brilliance in the sunlight. The doorknobs were emeralds, rubies, or diamonds and each window was lined in platinum. Even the ivory street had precious jewels embedded in it.
At first Mara looked at these splendid and magnificent buildings as a child looks at candy. She had a look of innocence on her face that made her the radiant beauty she was. But then her greed and wickedness replaced her innocence and she was transformed from the most beautiful woman on the Island into the ugliest. She knew all this beauty, all this wealth was soon to be hers, and that after receiving it she would demand more.
Vokar, on the other hand, looked at the city with an objective distance. He realized the city’s unequaled beauty, but he transcended the material and looked at the power that was represented by these gold, jeweled houses.
Mara and Vokar were taking in these sights and contemplating them for quite a while when their concentration was interrupted.
“What is your business?” the gatekeeper asked. He was very fat and his face was flushed. He wore a long purple cape and carried a jeweled cane. His shirt was frilled, his pants were the color of a sunset over an ocean, and they were a very tight fit.
“Take me to the king for I am a wizard of no small importance,” Vokar said with pride. After the trip in time and space Vokar no longer felt afraid to tell the wizards that he was a great sorcerer for he was sure that he was the most powerful.
“Aren’t we all,” the gatekeeper said sarcastically. “Now tell me your business in Mea or I will call the guards.”
Vokar turned toward the fat man very slowly. He was enraged. He opened his eyes their widest and rolled his eyeballs back into his head. When he let his eyeballs drop back into view the fat man was on the ground in spasms. Then Vokar took Mara by the hand and they walked toward the palace.
“A man like that is easy to hate,” Vokar said. Mara smiled at Vokar and then turned her head momentarily so she could watch the man writhe in pain.
“An astounding place, is it not Vokar?” Mara said gleefully as she turned her attention back to the jeweled homes.
“Yes, my mistress, most astounding,” Vokar said.
Vokar felt very strange. He couldn’t describe the feeling
but he felt as if a magnet were guiding him. He felt as if he really didn’t have control over where he was going. That he was going where some higher force was taking him. Was it possible that Destiny had taken his hand and was guiding him? Vokar did not find that impossible for he was convinced that Destiny had brought him here. So he accepted this feeling and let it pull him where it would.
There were very few people on the street and none of them paid any attention to the foreign couple. Mara did not like that. She did not like being snubbed by people she thought were beneath her. She was happy when they arrived at the palace.
To Mara’s surprise, the palace guards did not stop them; as a matter of fact they opened the doors for them. Vokar smiled, for this convinced him even more that whatever the power was that was leading had made the guards open the door for him. Yes, Destiny was leading the way.
The palace was majestic. The walls they could see were covered with priceless paintings and all the mosaics were made of jewels rather than tile. The architecture of the palace was so dynamic that the entire building seemed alive. Mara thought that in time of strife the building itself would be not only something to use but also to contend with. The palace was so beautiful that it made the houses surrounding it look as if they were the mud huts of the Mukes.
Vokar walked through the many rooms and winding halls as if he had been raised in this palace. Mara unquestioningly followed, but she was baffled at his confidence in knowing where he was going.
“You seem to know this place quite well,” Mara remarked. “Do you know where the king is?”
“Yes.”
“How?” “Destiny brought me here and now Destiny is showing me the way to my rightful place,” Vokar said as he marched up to the doors of the throne room. “Open,” he ordered. The doors slowly swung open and revealed the great King Demis of Soci sitting proudly upon his throne. On his right stood two wizards dressed in bright orange robes. To his left stood two brawny dark-skinned guards. They were prepared for any fight.
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