Ekleipsis Page 7
People recovered and were running all over getting nowhere. Making it to the stables, Dartego pulled down the first saddle he came to and quickly threw it on the fastest looking horse he saw. I’ll have to settle if we live through this, he thought.
Mounting the horse, he held the reigns with one hand and gripped tightly his sword with the other. Slowly making his way through the people, trying his best to keep from trampling them with the horse, he glanced over his shoulder to see the destruction gaining on him.
Gottlos by the hundreds were cutting and slashing at people of all ages. Some were being held off by members of the Sealed, militias, and soldiers of Xima, while others were free to slay the innocent. Flames and smoke filled the air, and caused Dartego’s view to be hazed, as he searched for the slightest glimpse of MaZak. Once again, a desire to turn and help slowed Dartego’s emergence past the crowd. Torn between helping his friend and what he knew he must do, burdened his heart and twisted his stomach.
There, I see him! Amidst the smoke, Dartego saw MaZak carrying what appeared to be two children in his arms – maybe eight or nine years old. He is still alive! Covered in soot, Dartego could see they were coughing and holding on for dear life. A glimpse of hope, it was enough to empower him to ride; to ride unto Signum and tell Ciafus, then to Nesal to warn the villagers.
Above him flew Rubicund, a fierce and evil creature few had seen and lived to tell about. Circling above the people with blazes spewing from its muscular jaws, the bold dark, red Dragon showed no mercy, with his powerful wings and tail swirling the smoke and fire around like tornados. Some of the Gottlos equally became victims to the inferno of the flying beast, but it ceased not from its destruction of Palvolin and the seekers there for the market.
A tall, burly Gottlo pulled an arrow from his quiver. Filthy, his clothes looked as though they had never been cleaned, being tattered and dirty. His hands were large, with every crack and fingernail holding grit. The muscles in his arms drew the string with ease. The wood bent, leaving only the sharpened arrow head made of stone extending past the bow, resting on the pointer of his fist. He took a breath to steady himself. His aim was fixed, he was ready.
“Stop!” shouted Vikadore, placing his enormous hand on the Gottlo. Immediately, the Gottlo’s aim dropped, and the draw of the bow was loosened. The Gottlo faced Vikadore as if questioning the order.
Larger, in every way, than the Gottlo he touched, Vikadore was the captain of the Gottlos. His face was full of thick wrinkles embedded with muck, and his eyes drooped with broad bushy brows. He stood likely seven-four, towering over most. It would take two men to carry such a sword as his, and never had one been so brave to challenge him. His voice was deep and rough, holding a sense of asthma, “Jagare has commanded that one be allowed to live. Come. Return to the slaughter.”
Striding from the village, Dartego firmly pressed the horse to its limits. The wind to his face, forcing away the smoke with every breath feeling fresher, he dared not look back. Emotions of anger, fear, sympathy, and anxiousness filled his mind as he rode. Questions, answers, tradition, folklore, King Salvare, the Book of Wisdom all came together in the midst of his thoughts, from things learned over the years necessary to separate fact from fiction. God help us! Please send the King!
Choices
Early morning came with dew and the smell of fresh air. The sun was barely awake, with only a small halo appearing over the oaks and sycamores of Nesal, while faint hints of light played peek-a-boo amidst the trees. The village was quiet, but for the rustlings of three teenagers getting dressed and saddling their horses. It appeared Rayhold had convinced Vandor and Kayla to accompany him to see Cenobia in Qualtes.
Yawning still, they mounted their horses, mostly speaking in grunts and nods. It would take quite a while to travel south to Qualtes, so they made sure to pack themselves loaves of bread, goat cheese, some jerky, and a full water pouch each. They would enjoy the time together. It was just too early to think of such things.
The sun finally decided to show its face, awakening the three a little more. The trip so far had been silent, till it was broken by Kayla. “So Rayhold, how long have you liked Cenobia?”
“Uh,” caught off guard, “I found her very nice when I came with my father to purchase some animal hides a while back. I just thought it would be nice if you both could meet her and she could meet you two.”
“Indeed it would be nice to meet your friend,” replied Kayla.
“I am glad that we are able to spend some time together today. It seems it has been a while since we have all enjoyed a good day,” reflected Vandor.
“That is true. What have you been spending your time with Rayhold? We haven’t seen much of you lately,” asked Kayla.
“Yes Rayhold, I have missed our sparring,” added Vandor.
“I have been helping my parents a lot lately. I too am glad of today,” answered Rayhold, hoping such would suffice. Truth was, all his free time was being spent with Onyx.
They paused for a short time near a small stream. The air was full of the songs of birds, with the crisp sound of flowing water. They sat on the soft, thick grass, leaning back against large smooth rocks. Small talk between bites of bread, cheese, and jerky, with the occasional drink of water, filled the time. Only a quick break and they were back on the trail to Qualtes.
Arriving in Qualtes before noon, the village was somewhat busy. The small market, where people brought their vegetables and fruits, clothes and linens, handcrafts and such, was crowded with onlookers. Buying, selling, and trading were a common thing among people, especially in the smaller villages. In this, they all helped each other survive, by also building relationships with one another.
There she stood, as they entered the village. Rayhold saw her almost instantly. He pointed Cenobia out to Vandor and Kayla, but asked them not to make themselves obvious by staring. They concurred and dismounted their horses at a common horse post, made of eight-inch pine crossbeams, attached to twelve-inch legs, evenly spaced the length of ten yards or so. It was meant as a place for visitors to tie their horses and the like, while they visited the village.
As they walked toward Cenobia standing by her family’s vegetable stand, she turned to face them. “Rayhold,” she said in a surprised tone, her heart leaping inside.
He fidgeted and replied, “Hello, Cenobia.”
Looking at Rayhold, she did not really notice Vandor and Kayla. “It’s been a while, how have you been?”
“I’ve been well,” he acknowledged. Pointing to each, “These are my friends Vandor and Kayla,” he disclosed.
Vandor extended his hand, followed by Kayla.
“Vandor and I want to look around, so we’ll back later,” Kayla said, giving Rayhold a chance to talk to Cenobia alone.
Vandor and Kayla made their way off among the booths, looking to see what all was being sold. Rayhold and Cenobia walked over to where the horses were tied; with Cenobia’s mother’s permission, of course. It was apparent to any who paid attention, that they were excited to see one another. Eager to share their thoughts, they sat and spoke for hours. Rayhold wanted so to show her some of the neat tricks Onyx had taught him, but knew that would have been unwise with so many around.
It soon came time for the three to leave, to make it back to Nesal before dark. It was enough their parents had allowed them to travel with the fear of Gottlos sightings here and there throughout Erde, they could not risk returning late. Although Gottlos had not been seen this far east, there was always the possibility in the mind of their parents. These three had not even seen such a thing as the Gottlos, so they seemed but tales to scare children.
“I must be going soon Cenobia, so that we make it back before dark,” told Rayhold.
“I am so glad you came,” Cenobia replied.
In his mind, he fought with the idea of whether or not to give her the amulet from Onyx. Decided, Rayhold withdrew it from his pocket. He opened the cloth around it, and handed the necklace to Cenobia. “I h
ave brought you a gift.”
She was delighted, and her face showed as much. “It is beautiful, Rayhold.”
He was happy that she was pleased. Though, there was a slight discomfort within him in giving it to her, because he knew the power behind it. If worn, he would never know her true feelings, for the amulet would control them. He questioned the motive, but dared not take the chance at loss. She appeared to like him, so it really wasn’t forcing her to go against her will in his mind.
She put the necklace on, and instantly Rayhold could swear he saw a quick glimmer in her eyes. “I love you, Rayhold,” Cenobia said with her face beaming.
He was startled and amazed. It must be working, he pondered. At a loss for words for the moment, he fumbled, “I… You do?”
“Yes, Rayhold, I would not say it if I did not mean it,” she replied.
Vandor and Kayla walked up, breaking the conversation. “We better be getting back,” Vandor acknowledged.
Cenobia held Rayhold tightly, “I shall await your return.”
Rayhold and Cenobia stood, as they all moved toward the horses.
Leaving the village, Cenobia watched them until they were out of sight. Rayhold made sure to wave and keep eye contact for as long as he could see her. He really did like her. Maybe not as purely as Vandor and Kayla did each other, but did so nevertheless. It was just his fear of loss that compelled him to do such, or so he told himself as they rode off.
Small talk again filled their time back to Nesal, sharing a little of what all had been seen and done in Qualtes. While Rayhold and Cenobia had sat mostly near the horse post, leaving for a while to show Rayhold around the village and grab a bite to eat and fresh water, Vandor and Kayla had slowly passed through looking at every little thing each booth had to offer. Vandor had taken the little money he did have and bought Kayla a nice leather bracelet with daisies on it which tied at the bottom.
Daises were her favorite. Especially, since the day she counted the petals of one while Vandor did confess his love once again to her with the ring she now wore upon her finger.
Coming into sight was the same small stream they had passed in the morning. Their mouths were dry, so they decided it would be nice to take a small break before continuing on. They had the time, and agreed to stop for a moment or two. Though, unaware to the young trio, eyes perched over the rock formations near the stream. Pulling itself atop the large stones, it readied itself to leap.
Suddenly, there was noise from above them. They jerked to see, but they were too slow to get out of the way. Down came a large creature having the rough appearance of a man. With the likeness of a beast, it was larger than most men and smelled of decay. These three had not seen the like in their lives until then.
Landing almost atop Kayla, the creature wrapped his arms around her, as they tumbled from the horse toward the ground. Instinctively, she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, as they fell: a thump as they hit, with a cry of pain from Kayla on impact. Completely caught off guard, Vandor and Rayhold were stunned while watching it happened before their very eyes. The creature lay on his back, taking the blunt of the fall, while Kayla kicked wildly, using her strength to push against his grasp.
The creature stood holding Kayla tightly around her folded arms, which were bent covering her chest. With one arm the beast gripped her close, while holding a knife near her face with its other hand. Kayla’s feet dangled in the air. She grunted and continuously kicked and pushed against his hold, trying to free herself. It was useless. The creature was too strong for a teenage girl. If she would have only considered reaching for her dagger, she may have been able to escape.
Quickly, Vandor and Rayhold dismounted. Vandor drew his sword, a little delayed, still getting used to a full blade and sheath. Running toward this fierce beast, with the point of his sword forward, Vandor screamed, “Release her!”
The creature growled and snarled at Vandor. Taking a stance it had no desire to flee.
Rayhold did not pull his dagger, but rather stared at the creature for a moment. As if being summoned from the depths of his very soul, instinctively Rayhold called upon the sorcery of Onyx. His eyes whitened, his body stilled, as the control of unknown strength and power, as if borrowed from another, seemed to flow through his vessels of life. He crossed his arms out in front of him in an ‘X’ formation. His muscles flexed and tightened, as he fought against what seemed to be merely the air. Drops of sweat dribbled down Rayhold’s sideburns, as he gritted his teeth with force.
As Rayhold pulled his arms out of the ‘X’ formation, the arms of the beast seemed to shake and lose strength. Gradually, the arms of the creature released Kayla. The arms of the beast were supernaturally controlled by Rayhold, without ever physically touching it. The beast felt the dark power upon him, the influence he knew too well, as Kayla jerked herself away. The knife fell away from Kayla to the ground. Kayla ran from the beast, as he stared at the three teenagers. Drool split to the ground from the creature’s jaws.
Vandor was stunned for a moment, seeing Rayhold perform such a task. It is sorcery! The law had been ingrained by his father Tindal, and such is against the law.
Glancing between the three, the creature chose to turn and run. Rayhold lowered his arms, as the creature showed a moment of shock. Rayhold’s eyes returned to their color, while the magnificent feeling of power subsided back to whence it came. “Vandor slay it with your sword,” yelled Rayhold.
Vandor could not bring himself to do it. The creature was merely trying to escape now, and he cared more to see if Kayla was alright. Between the creature and Kayla, Vandor’s eyes shifted. The beast was slow, but mowed through the brush toward the thick woods. Kayla lay upon the ground, propped upon her hip and elbow, panting, watching the beast run away. Vandor’s heart moved him to Kayla’s side, looking into her eyes, seeing the fear which dwelt there.
A scream, a terrible noise, coming from the creature’s direction, caused Vandor and Kayla to look back toward the beast. It fell forward with a thud, sliding a little, knocking down the underbrush. What is that in its back? It was Rayhold’s dagger protruding from the center of the beast’s shoulder blades. They could hear it still breathing horrific gasps of air. The creature was mortally wounded, unable to move, assumingly paralyzed, yet not dead.
Rayhold walked toward the beast, while Vandor and Kayla seemed to be frozen in time, merely watching their friend with amazement. Rayhold appeared to approach the beast with confidence, as though he had seen and slain the types many times before. The only humanity this beast appeared to contain was the fear which could be seen in his eyes as Rayhold came near. Placing his hand atop the beast’s head, covering its solemn face, Rayhold muttered forbidden words, of an unlawful dialect. A flash of bright light flickered from the cracks between Rayhold’s hand and the beast’s forehead. The body of the beast jerked, then stilled in silence. Rayhold withdrew his blade from the beast, stood, and simply observed the fallen foe.
The events happened so fast, catching them most unaware, being extremely out of the ordinary. Vandor and Kayla were still not completely sure as to what they had witnessed. Vandor helped Kayla up. She had a few bruises, but over all she was fine. Kayla picked up her bow and quiver. Vandor sheathed his sword and helped Kayla gather her loose arrows, then walked over to where Rayhold was standing.
“What is that? Is that a man?” asked Vandor.
Without lifting his eyes, “A Gottlo,” responded Rayhold.
“A Gottlo? How do you know? Have you ever seen one,” questioned Vandor.
“I just know.” Rayhold turned to look at Vandor, “You should have used your sword.”
“It was running away. Why not let it go?” questioned Vandor.
“We must kill the enemy before they kill us, Vandor. If we were to let it live, it may decide to hunt us down another day,” he explained. “Or, perhaps others in Nesal would fall prey to it.”
To Vandor’s knowledge, none of them had seen such a being nor had ever encounter
ed true combat, and definitely not actual bloodshed and death. Vandor pondered how Rayhold could be so cold and eager to kill without even the slightest hint of fear or cautiousness.
Kayla, holding herself with her arms, not wanting to go near the Gottlo, said, “Rayhold, what did you do?”
“I killed him, Kayla,” replied Rayhold.
She looked again to the beast, with the smell of the vile creature still upon her, curling her stomach. Rayhold knew that was not what she was talking about. “Rayhold, I mean what did you do to have him release me?”
“You used sorcery,” Vandor interrupted.
“I…You mustn’t tell anyone,” Rayhold exclaimed.
“It’s unlawful, Rayhold,” Vandor interjected.
“Yes, Vandor, that is why you mustn’t say a word about it to anyone,” pleaded Rayhold.
They argued back and forth a time, questioning Rayhold as he continued to defend himself, always returning that it was the sorcery which allowed Kayla to live. They kept reminding him that sorcery was against the law. Tindal’s father often spoke of it, and King Salvare himself had condemned such. Rayhold argued it was no different than the power the seers used, whereas Vandor and Kayla assured him the difference was where the power originated – from the very hand of God, or the Darkness which fought against Him. Rayhold conceded that he had learned it from a pale named Onyx, who made him swear to secrecy concerning it.
They ceased from argument, but the discussion was far from settled. Could they tell of the slaying of the Gottlo without the mentioning of sorcery? If this was indeed a Gottlo and they told not, what if there were others? Was Nesal in danger? Surely, they would never be able to leave Nesal again if their parents found out.