Five of the Mukes each took hold of one of the ropes holding Zenak and untied them from stakes that were driven into the ground. They let go of the ropes and let Zenak fall back into the pit. Just before he hit bottom the Mukes holding the ropes connected to Zenak’s arms and legs pulled up. The shock to Zenak’s body was horrid. Any other man would have died from such a shock, but Zenak was, because of superior physical stamina, only shaken up badly. When the Mukes pulled him back up it was a considerably weakened Zenak who lay on the ground. He was in agony. Every joint and muscle in his body was stretched to its limit and then some. He could barely move, so he just lay there trying to recover his strength before the Mukes did anything else. The Mukes were certain that Zenak was weakened for a long time and they took no more precautions while he lay on the ground and they moved the wagon closer to him. They were wrong. After lying quietly on the ground for a few minutes, Zenak felt his strength pouring back into his body and just when the Mukes were preparing to hoist his limp body on the wheel he jumped them. His hairy adversaries were taken completely by surprise and coupled with the fact that they are mild-mannered, Zenak’s ferocity left them aghast. Zenak was like a war mark among riding marks. The Muke closest to Zenak’s left hand was picked up and thrown head first into the mana pit. Before the Muke ever touched the bottom of the pit, Zenak grabbed two other Mukes and crushed their heads together. Zenak could hear the faint cracking of a neck at the bottom of the mana pit as he strained to see through the spurting brains and blood of the crushed skulls of the two Mukes. By this time the other Mukes realized what was happening and they attacked Zenak en mass. Two more Mukes, however, were to realize their end on this attack. One of them was kicked into the mana pit by Zenak. He was already dead before he hit the bottom, though. Zenak had lodged his foot into the Muke’s spinal cord and split it in half. The other Muke died when Zenak drove his mighty fist through its chest and pulled its heart out. Blood sprayed everywhere and pieces of bone jumped all around. This display of strength and the crushing of the Muke’s chest slowed Zenak up for a split second because his hand got caught in the ribs of the Muke and he had to shake it free. This was time enough to turn the tide against Zenak and swiftly the remaining Mukes took Zenak to the ground. Zenak fought like a madman, but his great strength was not great enough to subdue three full-sized Mukes from his strategically weakened position. Zenak would not give up and he wrestled the Mukes until one of them took a rock and crashed it into Zenak’s skull. Darkness engulfed Zenak as he fell into unconsciousness.
When Zenak groggily came to, he found himself chained to the spokes of the mana wagon in a spread-eagle fashion. The Mukes were squatting under the wheel in a circle and were eating.
Five more Mukes had joined the three that were left after Zenak’s vengeful attack. The Mukes were eating the Muke whose heart Zenak had pulled out.
“Goddam cannibals,” Zenak muttered to himself. But then he remembered when he was fighting the black Honats of the middle desert. He remembered he was the only man left alive and that he ached for food. The dead men on the desert sand were the only meat around. Zenak changed his thoughts; such remembrances were better left in the subconscious.
“Well, what do you plan to do with me?” Zenak asked the Mukes.
One of the Mukes looked up and with his mouth full of fresh bloody flesh mumbled to Zenak that they were going to take him into Mea.
Zenak smiled for he knew that they were doing him a favor.
“So, when are we going?” Zenak asked. “I’m tired of hanging on this wheel. Put me in the wagon and let’s go.
“Put you in the wagon?” a Muke asked. He rose and stood next to Zenak. “You’re going to stay exactly where you are. We’re going to roll you into town.” Then the Muke urinated on Zenak’s foot.
This enraged Zenak and he began pulling at the chains. It was no use, though. The chains were made to hold the wild mana down in the wagon. No man, not even Zenak, could break those chains.
“Well let’s go. Vokar will reward us well,” the apparent leader of the Mukes said. Then he belched and spit some of the upchuck into Zenak’s face. Zenak shook the chains and cursed at the Muke. The Muke just stared at Zenak and laughed uproariously—a rare sight for a Muke.
“For being such meek animals…” Zenak thought to himself but his thoughts changed quickly as the wagon abruptly started moving and Zenak’s torturous ride began.
For three hours Zenak endured the terror of his crucifixion. For three hours his body slowly went in circles as the mana wagon moved down the winding rocky road.
When he was head down his body would pull on his ankles that were shackled to the rusty chains. The chains would cut viciously into his ankles. Then when he was right side up he was using all his strength to keep his wrists away from the same painful, bloody fate his ankles were receiving. Also, as the wagon moved down the rocky road, stones would be thrown up from the wheel. Many of these sharp stones would fly sharply into Zenak’s body cutting it whenever they struck. Once a large rock jumped up when Zenak was head down to the ground and lacerated Zenak’s right forehead. His blood began flowing profusely and within seconds Zenak’s right eye was blinded by the blood.
But even these tortures were not worse than the dizziness that Zenak was experiencing. His stomach felt as if it was resting in his throat ready to explode from his mouth at any time.
In fact, throughout the trip to Mea, Zenak belched so many times that near the end of the trip he had emptied his stomach to the point where only black bile emptied out. His body was covered with vomit and blood and his eyes could no longer focus on anything. He was in a bad way.
It was a great relief to Zenak when the wagon stopped at the gates of Mea, and even though he was upside-down he felt better than being turned around. The leader of the Mukes bringing Zenak to Mea rang the bell at the gates. Then they waited for the gates to open. Zenak wished that the gates would open quickly. He was impatient. He also wished the gates would open quickly because the rush of blood to his head along with the continued pain in his ankles was beginning to take the novelty away of not turning around. Finally, after a long wait, the gates swung open revealing the long tunnel through the walls of Mea. Then the tunnel itself began widening and becoming taller so the mana wagon and the work marks could fit. There was no magic behind this; the tunnel had been made this way so larger things could come into Mea other than people or anything smaller. The Muke who pulled the bell slapped the work marks that were pulling the wagon and the wagon once again laboriously lumbered through the gates and into the tunnel. Once inside the tunnel, the gates slowly closed and all that could be seen was the light at the end of the tunnel.
When the gates closed, a phenomenon began. The features of the last figure on the last panel of the Gates of Destiny began forming. It was as if an invisible craftsman was at work slowly chiseling the face in it until finally the work revealed the last figure. The figure was the man whom Destiny had chosen to bring this world to an end. It was the strong, fierce face of Zenak.
Chapter 16
The Mukes quickly rolled the wagon, with Zenak still chained to the spokes, to the gates of the palace. They didn’t like being inside Mea. The Socians made them feel self-conscious; the Mukes felt the Socians looked upon them in scorn and ridicule. The truth was, however, that the Socians looked at the Mukes out of curiosity. The Socians almost never looked at anything with scorn. Also on this day, to the Mukes’ dismay, the giant they had chained to the wagon attracted even more attention that a pack of Mukes in the city. This caused the Mukes much anguish and they wanted to be out of the city as quickly as possible.
The Socians recognized Zenak, and upon recognition lost their bright-eyed look of intelligence. Their voices revealed a mechanical joy that the devil Zenak had been captured and that Vokar could have his revenge. Zenak, as he rolled by, could hear the mumblings and the mutterings of the people along the sides of the street that he had finally been caught. He
was once again astounded at Vokar’s power.
At the palace gates the leader of the Mukes said, “We want to—” but he was cut off by one of the palace guards.
***
“Yes, yes, of course, bring in the swine. Then go to the guard room and receive your reward,” the guard said impatiently.
The Mukes rolled Zenak into the courtyard and unchained him. His three-hour journey on the spokes was over. Zenak fell to the ground. His whole body ached as if it had been beaten with a giant club. He painfully wiped the dried blood from his right eye so he could see with both eyes again. He tried getting up, but when he rose the ground spun and he fell back on the marble courtyard. The guards rushed up to Zenak, chained his legs together, and then chained his hands together with the heaviest chains Zenak had ever seen. Then the guards picked Zenak up and carried him into the dungeon. Another guard led the Mukes to the guardhouse and gave them each a gold piece for their reward. The Mukes grabbed their gold and rushed out of the palace and out of the city. All this time Vokar sat in his balcony and watched the scene in the courtyard. He smiled slightly to himself. His final obstacle was out of the way and now he could proceed to conquer the Island.
As Zenak was being carried into the dungeon, he could feel his strength slowly coursing its way back into his powerful body. He could also tell his coordination was coming back because he could focus for the first time in three hours. So by the time the guards had delivered Zenak to his ill-lighted cell, he had regained all his strength and senses. All he felt now was the dull pain all over his body from the terrible ride he had. But this was nothing and he could take an army now, if he had to.
The cell smelled of decaying flesh and Zenak saw, when his eyes became accustomed to the light, the dark, rotting body of a man chained in a similar manner as Zenak. Was this what Vokar had planned for him, a slow death by starvation? Zenak stood up and with the limited movement of his legs walked around his cell. The cell was small and the only window was on the door. The rock walls were damp and the acute dampness revealed to Zenak that he was deep in the ground. The walls provided no mode of escape. The door also provided no means of escape. It was not a normal door that sat on hinges. Instead, it slid into place by sliding from one side of the wall into the other. The door would slide at least five feet into the wall from the other side and so it was impossible to break down. The door was also impossible to break through because it was of solid iron three fingers thick. Zenak, after studying the door, sat down against the wet stone. He was at a loss as to how he was going to escape. He looked at the dead man and at the holes where there were once eyes, which stared at Zenak as if the dead man was calling for help.
“Don’t worry my rotten friend, you shall be avenged,” Zenak said to the corpse. He then sat back and thought quietly on how to get out so he could save his son and his beloved wife, Mara.
In an upper chamber of the palace, Vokar was thinking. His chamber was a very austere, stoic room. It marked a sharp contrast with the rest of the palace. It contained only a stone chair in a corner of the room and the rest was empty. Vokar had no need for material items and his room proved his frugality. The rest of the palace, on the other hand, was elegant. The rugs were richly colored and thick. The walls were covered with priceless paintings, pastoral and heroic. Colored mosaics adorned the massive columns and floors of the palace. The furniture was elaborately designed and made with only the finest materials from all the countries of the Island. Everywhere in the palace, except in Vokar’s room, a warmth and peacefulness radiated into every person who came in contact with it. Vokar, when he first took over, was going to do away with all the richness in the palace, but decided not to when saw how much Mara loved it. So he decided to keep to his room as much as possible. There he could think and communicate with the forces of evil without being disturbed. His thoughts today were of Zenak and he felt better now that Zenak was locked up. He knew, as did Zenak, the cell was impenetrable and that starvation was the best way to kill his hated enemy. Any other death, such as executing him, was taking a chance that Zenak would escape and destroy all the sinister plans Vokar had for the Island. Vokar smiled to himself; his final enemy was now imprisoned. The world stood at his feet and no obstacles stood in his way.
Vokar’s reverie was suddenly interrupted by the slamming of his chamber door. He looked up and saw Mara standing against the door. She was breathing heavily and her face was contorted with rage.
“You have the bastard,” Mara screamed at Vokar. “I have just been told. Why was I not told sooner?”
“Yes, he’s locked in the lower cell of the dungeon. There is no way out. He’ll starve,” Vokar said.” I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think about it.”
“I want him dead now,” Mara said vindictively. “I want his head brought to me. I want to tear his headless body to pieces with my own hands. I don’t want him to die a slow death by starvation. I want blood, blood, blood, blood!”
Then Mara fell to the ground crying and tearing at her hair. Vokar looked at her with compassion. He loved Mara and wanted to satisfy her every desire, but he felt safe with Zenak locked up. He was in a bind that he found revolting.
“There is only one way I will bring him up,” Vokar said.
“What!” Mara demanded. Her cheeks were stained with tears.
“I will bring him up only if the last face on the Gates of Destiny is faceless,” Vokar said. Vokar knew that if the figure was faceless that Zenak was not threat, but if Zenak’s face was on it then the dungeon was the only safe place to keep Zenak. “Guard,” Vokar called. A guard dressed in the green warrior outfit of Soci rushed in the doorway. “Run to the gates and tell me what you see on the last panel.”
The guard bowed to Vokar and rushed out to go to the gates. Vokar rose from his chair and walked to Mara. He walked lightly, as if his feet never touched the ground.
“Mara,” he said quietly, “if Zenak’s face is on the gates he will have to stay in the cell. Only if he stays in the cell will I be sure that he will die. But if his face is not on the gates, I will give you the axman’s ax and let you personally chop off Zenak’s head.
Mara smiled slightly at Vokar as she looked sheepishly at him. “That dog could not be the end of the world,” she said confidently.
“I hope not,” Vokar said.
Vokar lifted Mara and then for the first time in weeks he took her into his arms and held her tightly. She snuggled close to him like a child holding a father.
“I love you,” Mara said to Vokar.
“And I love you,” Vokar replied. “Don’t worry if Zenak has to stay in the cell. I will prepare a platform at the window so you may sit and watch Zenak in his final death throes of hunger.”
Mara said nothing; she just squeezed Vokar a little tighter.
This somewhat warped intimate scene was abruptly broken when the guard that Vokar had sent to the gates rushed in the door. He stood just inside the door and was panting heavily from the exertion of running to the gates and back.
“What did you see?” Vokar asked.
The guard caught his breath and replied, “I saw you, Your Excellency, and next to you I saw your queen with the child in her arms and behind the three of you—” the guard stopped for he knew the consequences of the last panel on the gate.
“Well, what did you see?” Vokar impatiently demanded.
“I saw Zenak,” the guard said flatly.
Vokar let go of Mara and went back to his chamber. Mara fell back to her knees. She was sobbing.
“I have conquered the cosmic forces of the universe,” Vokar said vacantly. “I am going to control the Island. I always had an idea that the last figure was Zenak. That is why I put him where he is. Destiny should not beat me. How could she? Zenak is locked away for good. Mara, my dear, I’m afraid the price you must pay to be queen of the Island is that Zenak must remain where he is and let him die of hunger.”
Mara looked at Vokar blankly. She slowly rose and left
the room. She was muttering as she walked out the room. Vokar noticed that her gait was less lively than it ever had been.
“She is taking this hard,” Vokar said to himself, “but when the gold and jewels from all parts of the Island start pouring in, she will feel better.”
Vokar dismissed the guard and went out to the balcony. He had more powers yet to consume.
Far below in the dungeon Zenak was lying down. This was the only position that he felt reasonably comfortable. There was nowhere to sit and leaning against the rough, wet, sharp-edged stone walls was uncomfortable. Staring at the ceiling, he had pondered his situation for hours, but he had not come up with a solution to his problem.
“Well, Vokar,” Zenak yelled toward the ceiling of his cell, “it appears you have won, but I cannot believe that I was brought all this way through all kinds of obstacles so I can rot in a cell. No Vokar, I will get out somehow.” Then he quieted down and talked to himself: How I’ll get out of here is beyond me.
Little did Zenak know that his problem was being solved in Mara’s room hundreds of feet above him. Mara was on her bed. She was completely naked and had her firm thighs spread apart so that a young Socian maiden could satisfy her mistress’s sexual desires. Mara talked partly to the girl and partly to herself about the plans. “Well, Lika, Vokar, my great man, is afraid of Zenak, he will not kill Zenak the way I want him killed.” Mara stopped for a moment as a great physical surge ran up Mara’s spine. Then she spoke again, “I will kill Zenak myself. Am I not the queen? The guards will follow my orders and tonight I shall kill Zenak. I, too, can defy the Gates in a more exciting manner than that that wimpy wizard.” Mara grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her up. The girl was frightened. “I will,” Mara continued, looking at the girl, “take Zenak from his cell and take him to the axman’s chamber. I will tell him that we are escaping. You, Lika, will have ten guards in the chamber waiting for us. One of the guards will hit Zenak over the head with a club. You decide which guard will do that. Then we will chain him to the chopping block. Oh, yes, Lika, bring the prince. I want to see Zenak suffer even more. I have begun hating the prince. He looks more like his father everyday.”
Zenak Page 18