Ekleipsis Read online

  Rayhold regretfully looked down at his bonds, then upward to Tindal, “What have I done?” Though his use of sorcery came quickly to mind, his pride cried out, I am innocent! Knowing the use of sorcery now would seal his fate in death, he withheld from such.

  Straight-faced and emotionless, Tindal replied, “A witness came forth tonight telling us of a surety that you have conducted acts of sorcery.”

  Arguments came both from Labo and Sycress that their son did not even know of such. Qad and Kol doubled their strength, pressing against Labo to keep him held. Nau held Sycress firmly but gently on the shoulder, as she appeared to make an attempt to get up from the chair. Tindal demanded silence. Only Rayhold was to speak to the allocation of his actions.

  Rayhold was silent.

  “Rayhold, how do you answer the charges of sorcery?” Tindal questioned.

  “I…” Rayhold glanced to his father, then a long look at his mother. He was torn between thoughts: The look of anger in the eyes of his father, and the hurt in the tears of his mother. If Vandor and Kayla had betrayed him, then he could merely claim it was used to save their lives and even the village from the Gottlo, which may offer some chance of leniency. If they had not mentioned it and there was yet another, it could pull Vandor and Kayla into the issue at hand, only adding to his affliction.

  Rayhold remained still, as if calm to the situation, but on the inside he trembled in fear. “I neither affirm nor deny the charges,” Rayhold decided.

  None were too delighted in his answer, so they did what must be done according to the law of Nesal. They led him from his home to the bars of silence beneath the council seat of Nesal. The six followed Tindal’s lead, while Labo held Sycress, forcibly restraining himself against his desire to slay them all to free his son. They watched the council take away Rayhold into darkness, listening to the sounds of the shackles and chains echoing through the village. While Sycress worried what would become of her son, Labo pondered thoughts of how to free him.

  One accused of sorcery must face the council. It was law. They must ask the accused of their guilt, whereby the accused must affirm or deny the accusations. Upon affirmation, the accused must be burned alive. If the accused denied the accusations, then all witnesses and the accused must appear before the council, to determine if indeed the accusations were truthful – that indeed sorcery had truly been used or studied by the accused. If the accused was found guilty by the council, the accused would be burned alive the same day. If the accused were rather found innocent, they were freed but limited to the boundaries of Nesal for the space of six months observation. As for the witnesses, if they were found in dishonesty, they were to receive three strikes of the whip – as a measure to limit the hearts of those would be false talebearers.

  § § § §

  Yanes, drawing the short straw, was the lucky one to watch over Rayhold till morning. Though guarding, Yanes did not stay down below where the prisoners were kept. Beside the council room, Yanes sat at a small table and chair. They were set directly outside the door leading to a short passageway, which extended down into the earth. There below was a small hall and three six-by-six cells, for individual holdings of accused or guilty persons. No one went in or out, except the council, without the council’s majority permission.

  Below the well-furnished and kept council room sat a basement of filth. Not much more than a holding place for a couple of days at the most, there was very little stock put into how it was kept or the environment it held – not to mention the “serves them right” attitude of people toward those who ended up there. This mind-set kept most from even considering the idea of the conditions of such a place they saw themselves as never deserving to be.

  Sitting shackled and chained below the council seat of Nesal, Rayhold found himself on a short, poorly padded, wooden table for a bed with two sheets (one slightly thicker than the other), a cat hole for a toilet, and bars to hold him in. Being underground, there was no window. The atmosphere was cool and damp, with dirt floors. A lonely candle, near the entrance to the waste hole, was the only flicker of light.

  Staring at the floor, pondering many thoughts in his mind, Rayhold suddenly felt a chill. An odd puff of air blew out the candle. Total blackness overwhelmed the basement. Rayhold opened his eyes as wide as he could, but there was no light to give him even the slightest amount of vision. He lifted his hand in front of his face, pulling the chains and his other hand along with it, but was unable to see it as it touched his nose.

  Suddenly, within his cell, floating mid-air, he saw a circular ball of green light. A glow came from a solid florescent oval core the size of an egg, with sparks and lightning coming forth from the center, encompassing it as if encased in a large invisible sphere. It was beautiful. Its brightness illuminated more and more, as the axis appeared to spin faster and faster. Rayhold looked at it intently, reaching out to touch it.

  As Rayhold came into contact with it, the light became solid green, too bright to directly look at. Squinting away from the sphere, he then saw it was held by a dark figure. Instantly, he jerked his hand back, with the rattle of chains and shackles ringing in his ears. His heart began to pound with fear rising within him. Fear, but of what he was unsure. Was his mind but playing tricks? He was alone, and there was no entrance but from above where Yanes sat. His mind betrayed his desire of thought, and seemed to close down to merely a reaction of panic.

  “Rayhold,” a voice, seemingly from the sphere, called out in a deep whisper.

  This did not calm Rayhold’s nerves, but caused more terror to overwhelm him. So much so that he was unable to move. He tried to search the darkness of the shadow, avoiding directly looking into the light which momentarily blinded him. Rapid blinks, trying to focus against the light and on the shadow did little good.

  “It is I, Rayhold. Fear not, it is I Onyx,” the smooth whisper came forth.

  Disbelief and excitement flooded Rayhold’s mind all at once. He was fully aware that Onyx knew sorcery, for he had taught him such, but the fact that he stood before him was quite amazing in Rayhold’s mind. While sulking in his pit of isolation, he hadn’t thought to use the sorcery he had been taught. It had never crossed his mind to cry out to Onyx for help. Maybe it was because sorcery was the very thing that had him there in the first place.

  “Can you get me out of here?” Rayhold quietly asked.

  “Indeed I can. But first Rayhold, do I have thy allegiance?” growled Onyx.

  Startled by the question and still amazed by Onyx’s entrance, Rayhold replied, “Yes.” Part of Rayhold was answering honestly, yet the other only for the sake of escape from his situation.

  “Will ye swear an oath to such?” asked Onyx coldly.

  Without thinking Rayhold replied, “Yes, I swear.”

  Onyx held out his free hand, “By this oath ye swear allegiance to both my master and I?”

  Rayhold reached out to Onyx. Very anxious to leave this cell, Rayhold replied, “I swear, I swear,” without even asking who the master was that Onyx spoke of. To Rayhold it was merely the means to escape his current predicament. No different than telling his parents he promised to obey to free himself from punishment when caught, only to find himself needing to promise yet again another day. Rayhold figured he would ponder the question of who the master was on the morrow – once he was free.

  Onyx’s fingers tightened into a grip over Rayhold’s hand. Rayhold felt a sharp pain shoot through his arm into his shoulder. He jerked, but Onyx did not release him. The florescent sphere levitated in the air, as Onyx placed his other hand over the outside of he and Rayhold’s joined hands. Rayhold struggled to pull back his hand from Onyx, feeling a hot burning sensation throughout it. This time Onyx released him, as Rayhold almost fell backwards.

  By instinct, Rayhold covered his hurting hand with his other. Massaging it roughly, he hoped to remove the uncomfortable burning feeling, but it didn’t help. Rayhold looked at Onyx, removing his left hand from atop his right. Rayhold looked down at
his throbbing hand Onyx had just released. There was now an odd black mark tattooed atop his hand, shapened as three overlapping sixes: it had the appearance of the eye of Darkness, with tales flowing from the eye upon the left, right, and bottom, which curled clockwise as hooks. He had seen the mark before. Upon the Gottlo he killed.

  Onyx reached his hand back to holding the glowing green sphere, “Shall we go then?”

  Frustrated, Rayhold replied, “What about…” He was cut off by the sound of the shackles unlocking and dropping to the dirt floor with the chains. Momentarily amazed, he asked, “How did you get in here? And how do we get out without Yanes seeing us?”

  “Have ye learned nothing, dear Rayhold? I hold the power to do that which I will,” growled Onyx.

  Onyx muttered words that Rayhold had not yet been taught. The glow disappeared, returning to total darkness, as they vanished from the slough of bondage beneath the Council of Nesal. Yanes, snoozing off and on, knew nothing of what had transpired literally under his nose. Likely, he would have been unable to stop it regardless.

  § § § §

  An individual, wearing a dark grey cloak, crept into the council building, making his way slowly around the side hallway. He saw Yanes sitting at the desk, and observed him momentarily. Hunched over in the chair, Yanes’ head rested atop his folded arms on the table. Silence was only broken with the sound of light snores. The cloaked individual moved smoothly toward Yanes while he slept.

  Standing aside Yanes, the aggressor used brute force to drive his dagger deep into Yanes’ unprotected ribs. Yanes gave out a gasp and flinched to the left. His eyes sprang alive in fear. His mouth opened as if to scream, but unable to release any sound. Yanes leaned over, pulling the chair to the ground with him. The cloaked attacker withdrew the dagger, and plunged it into Yanes’ chest. Pulling it out again, the aggressor turned toward the basement door. Yanes was unconscious, with his life flowing freely from him.

  The murderer entered the basement door He raced down the steps to the three cells, of which one was to hold Rayhold. To his surprise, all three were empty. In a moment of confusion, he paused to physically check the doors to each of the cells. Pulling on the bars, he realized they were still locked. There was no Rayhold, and he saw no means of escape. A huff and sigh of surprise, frustration, and confusion seeped out, as he returned to the top of the stairs, and headed out the front of the council building.

  Around the villages, one by one the council members met like fates, as they were awakened by the pounding on their doors. Assuming another council issue, pertaining to earlier matters, their wives did not initially waken, and the men did not suspect foul play. Qad, Kol, Ishbal, and Zoac all fell to final sleep at their doorsteps by the hand of a cloaked assailant. A merciless slaying of vengeance had come to Nesal, or did it exist from within?

  A knock at the door had Nau pulling on the pants and boots, sitting next to his bed. His wife Amashai pulled the sheets higher. A cool breeze chilled the back of her neck, which had been kept warm lying against Nau. She spoke a little detest of the council calling for her husband yet again, but dosed back to sleep when Nau failed to give a reply.

  Opening the door, Nau met the attacker. Unexplainably fast for being woken from his sleep, Nau was swift enough to escape the deadly swing of the dagger he was met with. Slamming the door, it caught the forearm of the invader inside his home. The sting of pressure caused the aggressor to drop the dagger with a grunted squawk of pain.

  Doing his best to hold the door with his right shoulder and leg, along with the weight of his body, Nau reached down and grabbed the dropped dagger with his left hand. Gripping the dagger tightly, Nau swung the door back open, lifting the blade mid-waist high. As the door opened and the attacker struggled to pull away, gravity grabbed the cloaked aggressor, pulling him backwards, off balance to the ground. Sparing no time, Nau pounced down upon the attacker with the blade piercing his heart. A groan escaped from the foe as he appeared to grip his chest, but death took him.

  Nau felt out of breath and held the dagger in place for a moment, to ensure its purpose had been served. The cloaked foe laid still and Nau was sure it was over. He stood to his feet and took notice of the face revealed from the fallen back hood. To his dismay, the countenance belonged to Labo. Nau’s eyes widened in surprise, for he assumed it would be no one from Nesal.

  Screams of the slain men’s wives began to fill the night air, bringing fear to the children of Nesal, causing them also to cry.

  The noise broke Nau loose from staring. “Amashai get the children, and bring them to our room.”

  Pulling his sword, Nau slammed the door and ran to the center of the village, near the council chambers. He rang the warning bell, almost jerking it from the post. Its echo bounced off the surrounding trees, as lights began to appear inside the homes, with the streets already quickly filling with inquisitive people.

  Nau left the bell and rushed in to check on Yanes. Not really surprised, but hoping against his fears, he saw Yanes covered in blood. Nau ran to Yanes’ side, but realized he was too late. There was nothing he could do, but feel sorrow.

  Turning toward the door, he took notice that it was already open. The hole was coal black. He called out, “Rayhold.” No answer. “Rayhold, are you down here?”

  He grabbed the light on the table where Yanes sat, and headed down the tunnel to the cell Rayhold was placed in. Gone, Nau said to himself, yet didn’t notice the cell was still locked.

  Making his way back up the small hallway, he was met by Tindal at the door. “He’s gone.”

  Shock gripped Tindal, as Nau spoke of meeting Labo at his door. He told him of the attack and slaying of Labo. Tindal, in return, told Nau the women and children were crying because of the deaths of the other council members. It was immediately assumed Labo had decided to slay the members of the council for taking his son into custody on charges of sorcery. Frustration and anger gripped Nau and Tindal. They realized too late that Labo’s earlier actions should have warned them to lock him up also, at least for the night, for the safety of the council and people of Nesal.

  By now, the whole village was awake with the street full of small talk. Tindal and Nau hurried back to Nau’s house. Tindal wanted to see the slain Labo, and Nau desired to check on his wife Amashai, his ten year-old son Hisum, and thirteen year-old daughter Misal.

  Arriving back at Nau’s house, Amashai had the door cracked open, but their children remained in their bedroom. Labo lay lifelessly on the ground, surrounded by those of the village. Cries from the other houses of the fallen council members lingered in the fog. Tindal asked all to move away so that he could see the body, so they did. Some moved to other homes and some simply stood back talking quietly.

  Vandor knelt next to Kayla, looking at the odd black-handled dagger that also drew Tindal’s attention. “Where did you get that Nau?” Tindal questioned, having assumed it was Nau’s own dagger with which he had slain Labo.

  Nau informed them of the events as they took place. He explained the dagger was the weapon Labo had tried to slay him with, and assumed it must also be the murder weapon of the fellow council members. Tindal agreed, but looked as though there were more to the dagger than simply being the weapon Labo had used.

  “This is a Gottlo dagger. Legend claims this type of dagger is forged by the fire of a dragon, and each is cursed with the power of Ubils. Although the handle is black, if you look closely you can see the raised symbol. Legend claims this symbol to be worn by the servants of Darkness, meaning the sworn enemies of the true King, Salvare. There is no reason Labo should have had such a dagger unless…” Tindal looked around, ending abruptly what he was about to say.

  Tindal paused to whisper where only Nau, Vandor, and Kayla could hear, “Legend declares it is the symbol of the Wicked One, the eye of Darkness. It is the mark given to those who swear allegiance to the Darkness. Once the oath has been taken, they are sealed with this mark upon their flesh. They are then his servants forever.”
r />   Kayla’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth, as if she were about to say something, but didn’t.

  “But Labo doesn’t bare this mark,” Nau pointed out.

  Tindal looked at Labo’s forehead, and true, there was no mark. Tindal knelt down beside Labo. He picked up Labo’s left hand, searching it palm-to-back, and again he saw no mark. Reaching over, he lifted Labo’s right hand – the mark. Tindal looked up at the three.

  “That mark wasn’t there before,” Vandor exclaimed surprised.

  “Indeed, we would have seen it in our daily walk. Legend claims the evil spirits – the Ubils – have the ability to hide the mark, that others may not see it. This would explain why he has such a dagger in his possession, and why we never saw the mark before. Or, it could be that he has only recently received the mark,” explained Tindal.

  Kayla had been listening intently and asked, “So one may have this weapon and not have the mark? Can one be recovered from receiving the mark?”

  Tindal began, “Legend says…,” but was cut off abruptly by Vandor.

  “Why do you keep saying, ‘legend says’ father? Are these things not contained in the Book of Wisdom?” Vandor fervently questioned. “Do you not believe they are much more than mere legend?”

  Dismissing his son, for this was not the time or place for argument of such things, he answered Kayla. “Once a person has sworn allegiance by taking the mark, there is no known way to break the enchantment of the Wicked One or the evils spirits’ control of that person. As for one having such a cursed weapon without first swearing allegiance and receiving the mark, I assume it is possible that one could have found or taken the blade from a slain Gottlo. But that would most likely not be the case, as we see here.”