Chapter Four
First Blood
In roughly an hour’s time the long unbroken line of cavalry started forward, as unsheathed swords and lance points glistened in the moonlight of early morning. The city was still lit up with lights that no doubt burned all night long.
Slowly the long line of cavalry approached, as my father’s group and the two flanking captains kept their pace slow to allow the other groups the time needed to attack the flanks of the city simultaneously to our own attack.
As if by some silently given off signal the pace of the long line of cavalry quickened. The city drew closer and closer.
The long line of cavalry broke into a gallop. I clung to the reins of my stallion full of excitement and yes, fear.
The city grew taller and brighter with every passing second like some great hideous many eyed monster rising up before us. Down and up over ditches and fields we plunged the pace getting faster and faster.
I saw the big wide central street of the city opening up before me just as father had said it would. It would lead my group straight to the citadel.
I headed the big stallion for it, as the men to either side of me and those knotted up in a shapeless mass behind me followed my lead. The hooves of our mounts pounded down on the cobbled stoned streets of the city, as we streamed uncontested into it.
The wide street was full of the active night life of the city. Bright lights shone through colored glass, as sultry musical beats vibrated through the air.
The sight and sound of us charging into their nightly pastimes shattered the scene of a city at play. People shrieked in fright and ducked into any hiding place they could find, but many of them in their panicked confusion were trampled over by our mounts, along with their belongings.
It was a scene of utter chaos and mayhem the like of which I had never experienced before. I had one saber in my hand, but I did not use it. There was no time to.
We rode so fast and our objective was not to stop and fight, but to reach the citadel and relieve Talaric and his men.
The lights of the city streamed by me in a blur of color, as my eyes remained tunnel focused upon the street before me and the endless stream of shrieking people that I was mowing over.
My stallion plunged and smashed through the glittering throng valiantly. He was ready for the battle.
He surged up and over carts and other obstacles, while smashing through tables and people alike. Onward ever relentless, as if drawn by some love of the savagery of the moment and not by any act of mine in urging him on.
It came to me suddenly, as to what I would name the black beast that I rode. I would name him Relentless.
It seemed but seconds since we had entered the city, but most likely it had been several minutes. My eyes began to trace the outline of the tall walls of the citadel and its towers rising up out of the poorly designed city.
Suddenly it seemed to me that I plunged through this strange world of colored lights alone. I glanced back over my shoulder hoping to alleviate the fear that it could be true.
My men still plunged through the fray as did I, but they were a horse length back from me.
In that brief moment my eyes locked with theirs and I saw the eagerness for the fight shining brightly within theirs, like a pack of ravening wolves with prey in sight.
The urge to be a leader worthy of such a pack drove me over the edge of my mind’s own limitations and I turned back into the saddle and quit being my savage mounts passenger and became the masterful rider of the coiled wrath that glided beneath me, as I matched him in the intensity of the moment and urged him on even faster.
Relentless answered the call with a willingness that any warrior would have relished. We were both now fully committed to the struggle, wherever it may lead.
The citadel suddenly loomed close, and with it came an unwelcome sight. Enemy soldiers were pouring out of the gate into the city.
Where was Talaric?
Had his men failed to hold the gate?
I could see no sign of him. They had left the main body of the army over two hours ago. I glanced up to see the gate keepers running madly along the top of the wall gesturing at us excitedly.
They meant to close the gate and bar the citadel away from our conquest!
I could not let that happen!
Talaric could be held inside prisoner and beyond that father had tasked me with its capture and I wasn’t about to either disappoint him or fail to rescue my brother.
My right hand resheathed the saber it held, as I dropped the reins altogether and guided the raging mount with my knees the way that Rolf had taught me. Reaching back I unlatched the bow from my back and let the arrow quiver free to dip to the side under my one arm.
My right hand swept to the side for an arrow, as I brought the bow up in my left hand. Fitting the arrow to the bow I let it fly and somehow from the whirling bucking platform that I sat upon my arrow sped true and slammed into the chest of the man nearest the gatehouse.
I let another arrow fly and as I did a hail of arrows from behind me joined it. In one sweep of whistling death giving force the wall top was cleared of any who may have closed the gate for the moment.
Relentless thundered upon the draw bridge still lowered over the moat of murky water that surrounded the citadel. Relentless and I plunged through the ranks of packed soldiers before us into the front drill yard interior of the citadel.
I drilled arrows to my left and right clearing the walls of any who might reach the gatehouse and lower the gate. I had always been a good archer, but the ease and accuracy by which I was downing the enemy seemed to me, as if it was some new talent that had just been awakened within me.
Wheeling to fire at another section of wall where the enemy were headed for the gate I barely managed to hold onto the arrow before I had loosed it.
They weren’t enemy soldiers, but rather Talaric and his men!
I turned away in anger from the sight of my brother. My men had nearly been sacrificed on the approach to and locked within a gate that was to have already been held within our hands!
I heard a clanging noise and looked up to see the second gate of the citadel further up the citadel grounds had closed. The second ring wall had stairs leading to its top, but only one gate, which was now closed barring us from the inner citadel grounds. In the insanity of the moment of action I plunged Relentless towards the steep narrow stairs.
I shot off my arrows at any archer that showed himself, even as I heard arrows whiz past me. Relentless bucked his way up the narrow steps and at one point it felt like we were going to fall over backwards and probably would have if I were heavier and Relentless had been wearing full battle armor.
We made it to the top of the second wall and I reattached my bow to my back. I was out of arrows anyway.
The wall top was too cluttered to navigate mounted so I leaped off Relentless leaving him to find his own way. My father’s sabers were in my hands and they felt good.
I made my way across the wall top ducking arrows from the inner courtyard and wild sword swings on the wall.
I was so glad for Rolf’s intensive training at this moment. True it had often been excruciating and his manner often seemingly cruel, but it was paying off now. My blade was quicker and my moves more nimble than any opponent I faced.
The enemy soldiers fell to the side or over the wall, as I made my way to the gatehouse. I didn’t think about the lives I was taking, only the objective ahead of me.
Some part of my consciousness knew that to be so objective and dispassionate about the ending of life heralded in the fear that I had always had about myself.
I was a cold blooded killer at heart, when I needed to be.
I couldn’t be concerned with the loss of that innocence right now. The killing before me needed done.
I wasn’t doing what I was for the thrill of killing, but rather to save lives, my men’s lives.
Introspectively I watched with what skill and savagery I fought with, skills beyond what I had ever learned on a practice field. I didn’t like killing, which was why I had never been an avid hunter. I had left the glory of killing wild game to others, because I saw no glory in it, only the necessity by which to survive.
I feared what my new status as an abject killer would bring me in life. Would there ever be a woman out there who would want me?
Girls my age had never seemed to care for me, which had left me wondering as to the possible reasons why. I wasn’t bad looking and while I wasn’t the eldest son of my father I would still have a position of preeminence in life.
Maybe they had sensed this capability for killing heartlessly under my quiet exterior façade that I had constructed and carefully maintained in order to keep my emotions invisible from the world. Oh well it was what it was and there was no changing it.
I had almost cleared a path to the gatehouse. I had to get that gate open!
Another enemy soldier in front of me fell away not by my saber’s strike, but from an arrow coming from his own side. I sensed danger from behind and I wheeled to face it.
I felt the edge of a sword slice along my jawbone where the back of my neck had been but a second before. I sliced backward blindly with one saber and felt its impact with something solid and turning completely I finished the soldier off with my other sword.
The way to the gatehouse was open and I ran stumbling over the bodies along the top of the wall. Once in the gatehouse I laid my swords to the side and grabbed one of the handles of the winch and began to heave with all my strength against it.
The rusty iron gate began to rise slowly. Suddenly there were more hands than just mine on the crankshaft and the gate rose quickly.
As the port callus rose higher I watched my men stream through it screaming like banshees out for blood, into the inner confines of the citadel.
The fighting for the citadel would soon be over I felt sure, because the tide of emotion was on our side.
I leaned against the crankshaft, as a sudden weariness took me over for a second. I opened my eyes to see the handles of my sabers extended out to me by Velanas, a soldier I had been riding beside throughout the patrol.
I took my sabers back and straightened stiffly.
Another friend from the patrol spoke up, “Where to now Sir?”
I looked past him to where the inner citadel was already wreathed in flames.
“Wherever the Creator leads us.” I said rather abstractly, as I headed back outside the gatehouse.
I saw a city in utter chaos around me from my high vantage point. Most of the people had fled from the streets into the buildings, but those wouldn’t be safe soon.
As if on cue with the flames spreading rapidly throughout the citadel heralded by black smoke lifting into the night sky, the rest of the city began to be put to the torch.
We needed to get out of here before we were caught in fires of our own making. I made my way back down the steep stairs followed by my men.
How in the world had I gotten up these stairs on a horse?
It was hard enough going down the stairs on foot. A warrior held Relentless for me at the bottom of the stairs and I was glad to see that he was alright.
Two warriors came dragging a man up between them to me, “Sir we’ve caught the governor of the city. He was trying to escape through a hidden passageway.”
I barely glanced at him as I said, “Throw him back into the passageway and let him burn with his city.”
Before they could do, as I requested they were stopped by Talaric, who had come up unnoticed.
“Wait there! Zevin we can hold him for ransom! They’ll pay dearly to get one of their governors back!”
I responded harshly, “Father said nothing about taking hostages or bounty money! If gaining wealth had been the goal of this mission do you not think we would not have sacked the city before putting it to the torch?”
I abruptly turned from him and headed for Relentless.
The men holding the governor completed the task that I had ordered.
As one the men who had come with me on this wild ride followed me back out of the burning citadel into the city now well taken with flame.
I headed for the temple grounds where my father would be with his men, quickly outdistancing those setting fire to the city all around us.
Roric was beginning to give up hope of finding a way into the underground cult complex. His men had searched over every inch of the expansive temple in search of an entrance to the complex that his dying spy had said existed.
He wasn’t leaving until the job was completed and his friends avenged. There was little point in coming so far and risking so much, if he did not destroy the heart of this new cult’s headquarters.
Under his breath he whispered, “Lord please show me the way and enable me to destroy this pit of darkness that infects the land with blasphemy.”
Almost instantly a ray of light curled off the sword in his hand and twisted off through the air into the temple. Roric followed the light ray stepping over the bodies of temple priests, prostitutes and worshipers alike.
The ray of light split into four smaller tendrils, which arced out to each surround a pillar which formed a square of space in the center of the main temple hall.
Roric stood in the midst of the four pillars studying each pillar and the floor around it.
There was a grooved pattern inscribed on the floor and going to one massive pillar Roric began to push and surprisingly the massive pillar shifted quite easily along the path of one such groove. The same pattern was reflected on the ceiling as well.
Warriors standing around watching quickly worked at moving the remaining three pillars along their paths. As the last pillar moved into place there was an audible snap and the floor began to move.
Sections of the floor collapsed in repetitious order and soon a spiral staircase leading downward into the darkness was visible. A horrible stench wafted up out of the dark hole filling the heavily perfumed corridors of the temple with the smell of rotting decay.
Warriors looked among each other in a silent dread at having to go down into the darkness, but gamely straightened to the task willing to follow their leader wherever he led them.
Roric gestured them back from the stairway, “Get out of here. Pull all of our forces back from the temple grounds.”
The warriors reluctantly started to move back hesitant to leave their leader they loved to face the darkness alone.
I turned to go with them, when my father called my name, “Zevin.”
I turned back to him.
He had a strange look on his face as he asked me, “Would you like to come with me?”
How did one answer such a question honestly?
I knew beyond a doubt that I wished to see nothing that the darkness had in store for us beneath the floor, but I wanted to make father proud and I certainly didn’t want him to face the darkness alone.
He must have read the quandary of decision going on inside of me, “Will you go with me son?”
I stepped forward instantly, inwardly proud at my lack of hesitation to move even in the face of the fear that I felt at the action.
Talaric stepped forward too, but before he had taken a second step the sword in my father’s hand swung toward him and colored light that seemed to express the anger my father felt shot out and knocked Talaric backward against a pillar, “You may not go!” Father spoke more roughly than I had ever heard him before to any of his children.
Before a surprised Talaric could protest father spoke on, “Your spirit is not right before God and your actions are in defiance of me and what I taught you! You have disobeyed my orders yet again and as a result you nearly got your brother killed and almost caused us to fail in capturing the citadel! Now because you by your own actions have shown yourself unready for the war we are faced with, I am ordering you back for your own good!”
Talaric his face tight with humiliation and anger responded hotly, “Why have you suddenly decided to play favorites with him? I’m the first born!”
Roric looked back at him sadly and responded, “Yes you are the firstborn and you have received the bulk of my attention because of it, but Zevin has made more of himself with less attention and instruction than you have. He has earned this moment while you have lost the privilege. Now go!”
Talaric stormed out of the temple, in as black a mood, as I had ever seen him in. Father looked at me and looked as if he was about to say something, but then thought better of it and decided not to.
That was alright, enough had been said already.
Father turned towards the stairs and I moved to follow. He stopped and turned to me once more, “Zevin remember that the power of the Spirit of the Creator,” he tapped my chest with a finger, “is greater than any darkness that we may find in this pit understand me?”
I nodded.
“Do not allow yourself to be consumed with fear Zevin! Our Creator does not give us the spirit of fear, but rather of power and of a sound mind!”
He turned back to the stairs and together we began to descend into the darkness. There were no lights, but the light streaming off of father’s sword gave us the light needed to see our way forward. As the darkness of the stairway became darker the light cast off by the sword only brightened.
We reached the bottom of the stairway and started down a narrow hallway that had an illuminated doorway at the far end of it. The atmosphere of the place was oppressive and closed in on us.
The doors opened under the force of some unseen power. There was no one there and we walked on through the doors.
I jumped and spun around with my sabers raised, as the doors slammed shut behind us abruptly. There was the click of a lock followed by a hollow sounding laugh that chilled me to the bone.
Dark hallways opened up to us along either side, but father kept traveling down the central hallway. Each hallway entrance we passed seemed to hold some new dark horror hidden within its depths.
The sound of someone sweeping the floor in one hallway. The sound of something chewing on a bone noisily in the next.
The worst was the sound of a little child’s voice echoing eerily in some sing song chant down one hall. It went on and on until my thoughts were echoing with the noise of it.
It was unnerving!
I was covered in sweat and the sound of my own breathing sounded loud to my own ears. Despite the sweat I felt, as cold as ice within the dark hallway and my skin crawled, as if trying to tell me I was under assault from some unseen force.
I got the message, but there was nothing to be done other than to keep going on. I wished fervently with all my heart that this was all just some horrible nightmare that I would wake up from only to see white fluffy clouds drifting by overhead.
Snap!
I blinked, as I about walked into my father, who had stopped and was facing me.
“Remember!” He said tapping my chest firmly.
I regained control of my breathing some and nodded.
“How are you still so calm?” I asked desperate to have the confidence that I saw in him to be my own.
Father’s eyes looked distant, as if he was remembering something, “I’ve been through hell before in my life and I’ve seen what my Creator can do to deliver me from it. Knowing that gives me confidence.”
Feeling compelled but reluctant to ask I blurted out, “How do you know that He will act on your behalf, when you’re in places like this?”
“Because He promised never to forsake me. I’m doing what I know He wants me to do, fight evil wherever I find it. Whether I live or die I’m His. So what is left to fear?”
“How do I get more faith like you father?” I asked needing the confidence that he radiated in the midst of the torment of this place.
His hand fell onto my shoulder, “This is how Zevin. All of what is happening is causing you to gain experience in the way that the Creator is at work in your life and others. Through experience comes faith and a strong faith in the Creator can move mountains son!”
He gestured around us. “So what’s a few dark spirits whimpering in the background matter? Instead of being afraid of the noise they make think on this son, how afraid do you think they are at seeing the presence of the living God, which resides in you and me, come at them in the power of Divine purpose. We are not down here to show how brave we are Zevin. We’re here to do the Lord’s work and His Spirit is the authority by which we lift our hand against all the power of darkness. You can trust the Creator to deliver you even down here Zevin.”
“You wanted me to experience this so my faith would grow?”
“Yes, but I would not have brought you if I hadn’t thought you ready for the task or the lessons to be learned. Be strong in your faith son, He will see you through. Now are we good to go on?”
“After you.”
He smiled briefly and turned back around. His hand reached back and I grabbed a hold of it grateful beyond words for the confidence I felt through the touch.
It was as comforting as a child huddled within the safety of his mother’s arms during a thunderstorm. I should know, as I had often been that child growing up.
It was a little ridiculous being like that now though. I dropped father’s hand, but I missed its comfort. Time to be a man and be like father.
Suddenly there was a pair of doors directly in front of us. They had appeared out of nowhere. A dim light could be seen radiating out from underneath them.
The big doors swung open creaking as they did so. This time they were pulled open by someone I could actually see though.
The dark prophets stood to either side and allowed us to pass through. We walked past them into a scene that should have been reserved for hell alone and not anywhere on this world or any other.
A large cavern like room opened up before us lit partially by candle and torch light. The stench of despair was heavy upon us, as we both looked upon the poor victims of this cult’s unholy handiwork. People were lined all along the walls fastened to it by iron chains.
Some still strong enough called out to us, while others were too far gone or already dead, rotting in place. Still others were strapped atop table like altars in varying stages of torture. This was where father’s spies had been tortured.
Quarta had said that they had not broken to the dark prophet’s requests of betrayal upon them, until after some old potion had been used upon them. I was not sure that I could ever be so strong as to resist the ways of such a horrible place and not betray my own family.
Dark prophets were standing all throughout the room and watched our progression into the room quietly not lifting a hand to stop us. I think I would have preferred to walk through a scene of battle, with ten thousand dead upon the ground then to pass through the tortured human wreckage of this place.
It would have been cleaner somehow.
All I saw in this place was the work of wicked men consumed by darkness and I hated it and its perpetrators with a stronger passion than I had ever felt against anyone before in my life. I felt something touch my hand and I looked down at what had once been a man.
I couldn’t believe that life still remained in the form of the creature that stared up at me, his eyes sunken into a face gaunt with starvation and the memory of pain.
Barely I heard his cracked lips whisper, “Kill me, please!”
Oh God!
I thought to myself, as I was overwhelmed with the plight of so many being tortured within the room and who knows how many before them.
Father continued on into the room toward an upraised dais that had a chair like throne upon it.
Reaching it father turned to the room of dark prophets and those they had tortured for some demon’s delight and asked, “Who sits here?”
“I do.” Came a sibilant reply.
I watch