The water flowed out over the lower sections of wall to fall cascading downward to the pass floor far below. The area of fill was half as large as the old city had been and was as high as the top of the walls. It was a level plain empty except for the two river channels that cut through it as they exited Lake Sanjo at the head of the pass and which covered the rest of the old city and beyond.
There was a narrow road hewed out of the rocky sides of the pass itself along the one side that gave access to the top of the battlements along the wall. The gateway to the lands we sought lay between the two giant waterfalls in the form of a narrow ramp that led down at a steep angle to the pass floor below.
If invaders were to attempt to ascend up the steep ramp the flow of both rivers could be diverted to flow directly down the ramp. The defenses of Kingdom Pass had only gotten more formidable instead of less.
I rode in awe over the hallowed ground. There was a still peace to the place that was something to feel, even as the battlements and waterfalls were to behold. The blood of our people was strong in this place, like a tangible essence that reached out and claimed one’s respect for the sacrifice that had been committed to keep this hallowed ground Valley Lander land for forever.
We started down over the wall on the steep ramp. On either side we were flanked by the onrushing columns of water that crashed over the edge of the old walls into the chasm below creating a deafening roar as the rivers foamed up in whirlpools at the base of the wall before continuing on their endless journey to the sea. A fine mist of spray kicked off the cascading rivers to coat us as we rode down the ramp to join the army already gathered in the pass below.
If the leaders of the Valley Lands had forgotten what my father had done for them, their soldiers had not. They stood in rank and file order in a universal salute to my father, as he rode through the encampment. I felt an immense sense of both responsibility and pride course through me at the knowledge that I was the son of a great man.
I whispered a prayer under my breadth, “ Oh dear Lord help me to never tarnish my father’s name by any action of mine. Help me serve You faithfully even as he has done.”
“Amen.” Said a soldier off to the side of me and I blushed red at the knowledge that I had been overheard, but the men around me didn’t appear to be in jest of me, but rather their faces reflected serious acknowledgment of my statement.
It was a beginning of sorts of relating with them. At least they knew I prayed. In some ways that was a lot to know about someone.
We made camp there at the foot of the wall that night and by dawn’s early light the army was on the move down the pass.
After the great battle at the Shrine of Remembrance, where the might of the Zoarinian Empire had been crushed our armies though few in number had marched down into the Southern Settlements and pushed all Zoarinian influence out from there.
The Zoarinians had respected the boundary that we had imposed between them and the southern settlements up until recently. From all reports it appeared that the Zoarinian Empire was once more stirring up confrontation between our two peoples. We were hopefully going to find out what involvement this strange new cult was playing in the stirring up of old hatreds once more against our people, primarily because of our faith.
I had heard the night before, as the soldiers were talking that this was primarily a peace keeping mission and that open battle with enemy forces was extremely unlikely. Still there might be small skirmishes. Skirmishes or not being along on this quest was still so very exciting.
Talaric looked over his shoulder back at the column behind him, as he rode next to his father. His good mood that he had been having dissipated some when he saw his younger brother laughing at some joke or something with a bunch of other soldiers around him.
The soldiers around Zevin seemed to be treating him as if he was one of the gang. One even smacked him on the back over something funny he must have said.
Talaric turned to his father beside him and asked, “Why do you permit Zevin to ride back there with the men instead of up here with us?”
Roric shifted in the saddle and looked back to where Zevin was freely engaged in conversation with those around him and smiled knowingly.
Roric turned to his oldest son and answered him in a way that insinuated a hidden lesson to be learned in the moment like father’s have a way of doing, “Because he realizes that to ride at the head of the men he will perhaps one day command in battle is an honor that he has not won the right to yet. By riding with the men instead of ahead of them he is showing that he thinks of himself as no greater than them despite his birth as my son. They will in turn respect him for it and automatically look to him as a leader in time of battle long before he is asked to ride at the head of the column in a position of leadership.”
Talaric scowled as he caught the drift of his father’s latest lesson in humility before advancement and dutifully let his horse fall back farther into the column away from his father’s side.
The lesson only served as fuel on the fire for the growing animosity that Talaric had growing for his little brother.
Days passed with little commotion taking place, just endless riding. We made our way through the small settlements of my grandmother’s people living upon the Litian plains as nomads. We stopped at Yorktown for a day before moving on.
The people of the Southern Settlements seemed glad to see us and our scouts reported nothing amiss. We continued making our way through the Ernor Hills, as we headed for the border of the Zoarinian Empire. That is when we began to see the signs of a growing darkness upon the land.
At first the small villages appeared normal, different only in that the people seemed somewhat more distant from us in how eagerly they received us. Increasingly though the looks we got turned more hostile in nature. Of the dark prophets we saw nothing, but we saw evidence of their presence everywhere upon the land.
Each village we came upon had strange signs written upon the buildings and often on a high place near the village an outdoor temple of sorts had been constructed out of strangely arranged stones, surrounded by tall carved wooden poles.
There were also altars within these outdoor temples that were constructed of stacked stones and that showed evidence of having had offerings made upon them. What those offering may have been we did not know, as no one was talking to us from the villages, but we knew what we were all thinking.
Father had every painted sign, stone, carved wooden pole, and altar destroyed in our passing. He left nothing that manifested a sign of this mysterious dark cult that we were on the trail of. Near the border we came upon a village in the act of an actual sacrifice with a dark prophet presiding over it.
The scouts ranging out ahead of us halted the ceremony, until the main column could reach the village. My father headed off from the main body of the army with a contingent of cavalry close behind him. As he passed by he gestured to me to follow and so I did, excitement rising at the expected showdown with the dark prophet.
Although the look of him was as creepy as I had imagined it would be, it was the menace that lay within his eyes that I found most disconcerting of all. The townspeople were all gathered at the outdoor temple and had the fear of some terror heavy upon them. Our presence seemed to not alleviate whatever fear they were under either.
Their focus was firmly rooted upon the dark prophet, who stood by the altar of stones and not us, even as we pulled up beside them. To the side of the dark man I saw something laying on the altar. It was a little girl. She lay motionless on the altar and given the evidence of the bloody dagger in the man’s hand she must be dead.
Depression swept through me at the awful sight of such depravity. By what reasoning could people allow the death of their own children?
I watched as my father got off his horse and walked up to the altar. He stared solemnly down at the little girl laying upon the cold stones. He motioned with a hand and several men rushed forward to him. He said something to them and they then proceeded
to gently remove the body of the little girl and took her off for burial I presumed.
Father for the first time that I had noticed turned his gaze to directly stare upon the dark prophet and I sensed a deep level of hatred in his gaze. The dark prophet laughed seemingly unafraid of my father or of the host that he commanded.
After he was done laughing manically he said to father, “You have disrupted a holy ceremony meant for the enjoyment of the gods of the world. This ceremony is also a vital moment in the enlightenment of these people and for these offences you shall pay dearly Roric son of Lorn!”
The priest started to yell forth in some unknown language. The sky’s overhead turned dark and brooding and I felt fear grip my soul.
The grey robes of the dark prophet were covered in dark looking symbols, such as the ones that we had washed off the buildings that we had come across. As the fervor, by which the man spoke his strange words increased, the symbols began to glow in a greenish yellow color.
The carved symbols on the poles also began to glow. Out of an ingrained loyalty to my father none of his men withdrew even though they looked as afraid as I felt by the display of power all around us by the dark prophet.
The townspeople had drawn back out of the circle of poles and stones quivering as the dark prophet’s imprecations continued to rise in a crescendo of shouted darkness. Through it all my father continued to calmly stand beside the altar, but a couple of feet from the dark prophet.
Did he not see what was happening? We needed to get out of here, but my feet remained rooted to the spot. The air began to spark with an electric charge and then a visible energy could be seen shooting from pole to pole.
I and my father’s men withdrew from the circle of the poles and electric power that was circulating between them. The air within the circle of poles seemed to darken and then the air itself began to whirl violently as if entering an unseen whirlpool.
Currents of energy sparked from off the poles into the swirling cloud that was descending upon father. I took a step toward father even in my abject terror at what I was beholding with my eyes. Someone had to get him out of there!
I took another step, but stopped in the attempt of another, as I watched my father move for the first time during the whole unholy ordeal. He unsheathed his sword that shone brightly, even through the darkness of the swirling cloud.
The storm seemed to reach its peak and with a final shout from the dark prophet it descended on my father and I screamed out in desperation for him. I watched father lift his sword up high and as the storm descended onto its point everything changed within a moment of time.
Light rays shot out from the sword and ringed the dark cloud and began to bind it within a net of color streamed power. Light rays radiated out from my father’s feet to the surrounding stones and carved poles. As the light touched the stones they exploded into nothingness and the poles were consumed in flame that left no ash.
The whirling dark cloud of energy was completely ensnared by the light cords cast off by the sword in my father’s hand and the mass of darkness began to writhe and moan, as it was chained in by the light. The dark prophet standing within feet of my father, stood with a look of incomprehension on his face at what was happening, was suddenly hurled upward into the dark cloud by some unseen force.
He screamed horribly as he flew around within the chained cloud of his own spoken request. Father moved his sword and the light bounded mass moved over top of the stone altar.
My father spoke for the first time his voice easily carrying over the tempest of moaning darkness. “Oh Lord so that those gathered here may know that no power of man is at play in the binding of this manifestation of darkness I pray that You would show them Your sovereign power and remove the powers of darkness from this place.”
His words had but ended when the dark sky’s parted and fire shot down from the heavens to consume the altar and what screamed in peril upon it. My heart failed within me and I fell to the ground in far greater fear than ever before.
The altar was consumed along with its dark burden and I watched as the dark skies overhead raced away to reveal once again the clear light of day and the bright blue of the cloudless sky.
The fire retreated upwards and there was nothing left standing where the outdoor temple had been except for my father. I stared in utter amazement at the empty setting. Father his sword now sheathed stepped toward the quivering townspeople.
They drew back in fear, but stopped when he held up a hand. “I know you’re afraid and you don’t understand what you have seen, but know this! There is a God in heaven and He is one God. He does not require the sacrifice of your children! All He asks is for you to believe in Him and His Son, whom He sent to lead us all out of the darkness of our time. In the saving knowledge of the Son is peace to be found, as He has been given both power in heaven and over all that the Creator has made. Fear not the dark acts of power perpetrated by evil men and the demons that haunt them, but rather fear Him who is able to divide the spirit from the body and sentence the spirit, which is eternal to an everlasting eternity of fire and torment. Stop serving darkness and traveling its twisted paths and walk in the clear light of the Creator’s word and He shall set you free from all who would oppress you.”
My father turned from the townspeople to remount his horse and head back to the main column of the army and we followed suit in sort of a dazed memory of practice. The townspeople were already making their way in a weeping mass toward the little grave by itself on the hilltop.
I had so much to learn and become better at! In my fear of the dark power manifested by the dark prophet I had completely forgotten the ultimate power over the universe that the Creator of all, which resided in me, possessed.
My father had stood firm in his belief in what his Creator could do despite the storm of darkness that had surrounded him. I needed to be more like him in yet one more way.
Somehow I found myself riding back to the main column beside Talaric. He looked over at me visibly excited, while all I felt at the moment was a deep comprehension of how much distance I had to improve upon in order to equal my father in terms of faith.
Talaric couldn’t contain himself, “Father sure knows how to make the sparks fly!”
I looked at him askance; surely he didn’t think father had vanquished the dark prophet on his own, just because he wielded a special sword?
I didn’t say anything, and just continued to study him. It dawned on me that was exactly what Talaric thought! It had been Father’s faith in the Creator that had given him the victory over darkness. Father was but a vessel for the Spirit of the Creator to move through and the sword was but a tool to that end. Following Talaric’s reasoning he no doubt thought that upon inheriting Father’s sword one day, as was his right being the firstborn that he too would have the ability to do the things that Father just had. How could he think like that?
Hadn’t he been listening to Father give God all the credit for his delivery from the power of darkness? I was but sixteen and I knew more of faith than he did at twenty two.
Something I had heard Rolf say once came to mind, he had said, “Some people choose to see and believe only what they want to, regardless of any facts or instruction to the contrary.”
I wasn’t like that in any way was I?
I sure hoped not! This was serious! Talaric one day would be the head of our family and he would be a disaster at it if he didn’t change his perspective on things.
Silently I prayed, “Dear Lord please help my older brother remember his father’s teachings and live by the example that he has set for him before he is tasked with having to lead our family and Thunder Ridge and help me to be whatever part of that plan You would have for me to be.”
We continued our patrol through the Ernor Hills along the northern border of the Zoarinian Empire and encountered no more resistance of any kind. We continued destroying all evidence of the dark cult that we found along the way.
No more dark prophets
turned up. Word of what had happened seemed to have spread fast. One village we came upon had already destroyed their own altar, which was certainly an encouraging sign.
This close to the border it had been extremely likely that we would encounter some sign of enemy troops, but our scouts found nothing on the Southern Settlements side of the border.
Father sent out scouts below the border against the wishes of several commanders, who didn’t want to provoke the Zoarinians. The scouts reported large numbers of enemy troops massed in concealment just over the border, but they showed no sign of wanting to engage us in battle.
They shadowed our movement along the border for the rest of the patrol, but they stayed well clear of engaging us in any action. Many thought them to be scared of us, but I wasn’t so sure.
When we reached the end of our long patrol through the Southern Settlements Father gave the command to head toward home. We’d made our show of strength and our continued interest in the area, now it was time to head for home.
I couldn’t help but feel oddly dissatisfied with the outcome of my first military endeavor. True the encounter with the dark prophet had been wild, but there had been no action otherwise throughout the length of the campaign. I had wanted at least a taste of war before returning home.
I was staring into the fire not really seeing anything when there was a sudden flurry of action in the fast approaching night. We had just made camp an hour ago, but that didn’t explain the sudden rise of voices near my father’s tent. I rose from the fire and went to investigate.
It looked as if every castle lord and major officer was in attendance. I drew close enough to hear my father’s voice rise over the dissension of the southern officers.
“General Karsa my orders are final! You will take the main body of the army on to Kingdom Pass in the morning without cavalry support. I will remain in charge of the cavalry detachment for the purposes of further investigation. We shall join you at Kingdom Pass in roughly two week’s time. You and your men will remain camped here for the night and continue on in the morning. Any men caught leaving the encampment are to be executed immediately! Cavalry commanders return to prepare your men for we leave within the hour. Now all of you go as there is much to accomplish.”
A Warrior's Journey Page 5