Sanctuary's Assassin (The Complete Part 1)

by Loren Elias

CHAPTER 13

  Despite Renatus' now distant departure, the chill of the early morning gusts drove Jabari’s burgundy forest cloak yet tighter. He shifted his weight beneath a heavy traveling pack as he surrendered a backward glance beneath a weighted brow. The ragged outcroppings of stone lay behind him reaching upward toward the almost perpetually gloomy grey sky. The swamp crept out from the rugged mountain in every direction, spilled out from it, held it safely as a mother’s ever-shielding embrace.

  Longing shaped his face; regret narrowed his cheeks as he left his home yet again, ventured out beyond its safety, its promise, its unyielding determination to protect him and the many he so relied upon to help him fulfill his duty. Alas, the Jagged could only protect them if they stayed within her sanctuary walls, but such an option did not exist.

  Deep brown eyes came forward again beneath dark, heavy strands before he looked up to the man at his side. Grenal, his First Guard, the guard who remained ever at his side while out of the Jagged as he had been to his father before him stood there beside him, an ever present fixture in his life. How long ago would the Fates have seen fit to sever his strand, were it not for this man’s ever watchful eye, swift reaction? Jabari watched a moment as Grenal’s dark blonde hair, well layered with grey whipped around carefree as his otherwise solid body shifted rigidly at Jabari’s side. The man’s beard full and scruffily hacked remained the perfect shade of blonde that matched the color that Jabari remembered to be once upon the protector’s head. Grenal had once told him that he was greying on top and not on his chin because he used his head more than his mouth. Jabari had laughed at the assessment. Despite the protector’s unyielding face, he could only imagine it a joke.

  Jabari glanced ahead to see the brothers Kerr and Ivar walking casually in front of him taking in the fresh morning air. They had been with him in the Jagged much less time. He could still see the joy in their pale freckled faces, as they shifted them about to catch sight of a bird or a fox or a deer. He had seen many go through this phase. Many who had lost everything and then came to join them in Jagged. The time in which the Jagged, despite its promise of protection, seemed a bit of prison from which one might seek escape. Of course, Jabari could not share their despair in remaining deep beneath the surface, nor their joy in finally breathing warm dry surface air. The Jagged had always been his home and leaving it was almost as unbearable as leaving his beloved bride behind.

  As always two other guards traveled with them, Meghan and Clarice. They completed the five. Five of the bravest, strongest, most skilled. Five who would be with him, protect him, help him as he did what he was called to do. Teach and Heal.

  Dawn departed as they walked down the wide forest path. Soon the midday suns rose to their respective thrones and beat down upon them without relent, reminding them that Auctus was upon them. New bud and new life rose up all around them in the form of chirping fledglings, racing rabbits and the occasional bobcat resting peacefully with her young in suckle in the shadows of a great bush or jutting rock

  As the trees consumed Lesser Sun, dusk dropped a hazy veil across the travelers’ shoulders, growing darker and darker until only the light of a single torch led their way through the new moon night.

  Only then did Jabari call a full day’s journey complete. Kerr and Ivar, without command disappeared into the forest only to return a moment later with armfuls of wood and a bit of dry brush for kindling. Jabari watched as they arranged their find into a sturdy formation before Grenal drug lit kindling beneath the base until it caught. Yellow flame rose upward as a thin stream of smoke curled up toward the low hanging branches which sheltered the weary. Kerr reached out to warm chapped hands.

  Jabari unlatched the belt beneath his forest cloak and set his short sword to the side before taking a seat upon the cold bare ground. Grenal sat beside him in full armor with sheath flipped out to the side but quite secured. An appendage it could only be considered; he would not think to free himself from it until he had Jabari again in the safety of the Jagged.

  Jabari waited for all to be seated before he pulled a cloth pack off his tired back. He lifted the stubborn flap and reached inside, then revealed several handfuls of dried meat and then a bag of biscuits. He handed the morsels to many waiting hands. When he was certain that his guards had sufficient sustenance he started chewing on one of two pieces of dried meat he had kept for himself. He chewed and chewed as he listened to bits and pieces of various conversations as they sprung up around the campfire. They talked mostly of fighting and friendships. And when Kerr and Ivar thought they could get away with it they talked of one or more of the woman in the Jagged, they would like to get to know better. Jabari saw Meghan with hair a most perfect red roll dark green eyes on more than one occasion as she continued a conversation with Clarice that must have been more to her liking. Kerr and Ivar never once mentioned a guard or soon to be guard among the ladies they might choose to get to know better.

  Jabari mused that such a thing was a challenge even his strongest protectors might shy away from; not only because of the fact that they fought so closely at their sides but because it took a particular kind of man or woman to be part of the Guard, strong and fiercely independent. But Jabari knew that Meghan would no more think of seeking to be joined with a male guard with whom she had trained her mind and body to be so attuned. Most often relationships of that kind occurred between guards and the Healer’s other Jagged staff. He imagined that a guard joined with a baker or a potter instead of another guard created a sense of balance in the relationship. And was that not what we all should seek?

  Grenal remained silent at his side, never a word more than a simple “thank you” when Jabari handed him and the others a handful of dried blueberries to complete the spread. Grenal rarely said anything. His actions always spoke louder than any possible words.

  They spent many nights like this on their way far down to Southern Aletheia, past Harpyroost. The trip took three and a half weeks on foot to be exact. Jabari did not travel past Harpyroost as much as he would have liked because of the distance, but he made sure at least every four to five Haerfests that he made the effort to visit those to the far south. Along the way, they stopped in towns from time to time, purchasing supplies and healing the townsfolk as needed. Some towns welcomed them with open arms. Some gave them what they needed and then shooed them away hoping their presence did not draw any undue attention.

  Aside from his First Guard, Grenal, each time Jabari traveled he chose different guards to accompany him. He thought long and hard as he made the selections. Each grouping created its own varying dynamic. Some groupings were completely homogenous as if all five guards thought and acted as one, others were a bit more segmented as this one in which Kerr and Ivar, being brothers worked as a unit and Meghan and Clarice having met in the Jagged as a separate but equally lethal unit. But if it came to a fight, Jabari never lost his amazement at seeing how those separate units came together with one purpose, protect the Healer.

  He got to see these units work together with some frequency on a long journey such as this. Spies and assassins abounded in Aletheia. As soon as Ruric got word that Jabari had left the Jagged, he always sent messengers out to his waiting armies along the anticipated path so that they could lie in wait for Jabari and his Guard to cross their path.

  These confrontations never ended well, or at least not the way that Jabari would have liked. Despite his eternal focus on diplomacy, armies given specific order to annihilate the Healer and his band of “thugs” as he often heard them referenced by Ruric’s forces, could not be swayed to think for themselves, to see reason. Such meetings only ever ended in battle and what Jabari always considered needless death, almost always the death of Ruric’s soldiers rather than Jabari’s guards. Jabari could only pity them, called to their duty as he was to his, unable to escape it. For them it was the duty to follow the orders of their commanders which all led back to King Ruric’s decision that Aletheia must be cleansed of all E’epans. But for him
it was the duty to heal his broken land and teach his people to heal themselves with herbs and remedies. Two totally unrectifiable callings, a total impasse. And it seemed at least up to this point the only answer had been to stand against those who would seek to destroy him, to prevent his calling being fulfilled. He had to choose one life over another. A thing a Healer must never be called to do.

  At precisely the four week mark the town of Harpyroost came into view. Four weeks was a bit longer than it should have taken but the armies of Ruric had crossed them a few more times than was usual, he surmised. And many of them had really presented them with a significant challenge. Ruric was getting bolder, smarter and it showed in the changing techniques of his armies.

  Their first major stop in southern Aletheia would be Hyacinth. It lay cradled in a valley, nestled snuggly between two great mountains. One he knew as Harpyroost. The other he could not really say had a name. The people of Hyacinth just called it Great Brother’s Mountain. This name tied to the legend that the people of Hyacinth clung to that this was the home of Great Brother who had formed them out of the sweat upon his cheeks. Jabari had other ideas about how humans came to be in this world, but it never stopped Jabari from visiting them, sharing with them, communing with their Elders and their people.

  Jabari had seen at least five Haerfests since he had last stepped foot in this town. He tried to remember what it looked like. He remembered the sturdy wooden houses painted in bright, boisterous colors, rivaled only by the great fields of flowers, purple and pink and yellow that surrounded the town. He remembered the many children running about in play, chasing one another, tackling one another and laughing all the while, jabbering on in one of the languages of the ancients.

  Most of the ancient languages had died out long ago as the clans and provinces of what was that day called Aletheia came together in trade slowly developing over a few thousand Haerfests a unified language. But Hyacinth had held on to the language of their ancestors. They spoke it in their homes and taught it to their children who spoke it as well. The newer language that united the land of Aletheia was but a second language to them. Jabari wondered at this community’s ability to hold onto a language no one else in Nine Worlds still spoke. He supposed it was their location, secluded in between two great mountains, their great focus on their legends, dared he call them that, and the strength of their families. He always enjoyed his stay in Hyacinth, or as the townsfolk called it It-ikt’bac-ti. Any map would show a town named Hyacinth because of the bountiful flowers that surrounded the town, but that name remained quite foreign to those who actually lived there.

  Jabari cleared his throat as he rounded the last bend along the base of Harpyroost. Then he released a low cough. The distinct scent of wildflowers lingered in the air, but with the hint of something else.

  Grenal turned to him. Concern shaped a bearded face.

  “I’m fine.” The Healer said simply moving ever forward.

  The scent became stronger until it was not a scent at all but a billowing blanket. Wisps of grey smoke trailed across gentle breezes. Jabari looked up to the middays suns still reigning high above them. Jabari had found himself in Hyacinth on occasion during a great festival. He knew well the scent of their massive bon fires lifting great pillows of smoke up past the flames and into the night sky. He looked up at the suns again then away. Barely midday. The grey smoke whipped around the mountain and assailed them, stronger than ever.

  Through the corner of his eye, Jabari caught Grenal looking at him with bright blues eyes wide with concern. “No,” the Healer spoke calmly in answer to the First Guard’s unspoken assumption. “It’s something else.”

  Grenal, who seemed to save his words for the times when action and expression just would not suffice spoke, slowly shook his bowed head. “No, Master. It could be nothing else.”

  Jabari looked to the blue southern sky obscured as it was with floating grey and finally the reality of it hit him like he had just leaped from Great Brother Mountain itself to meet the hard ground below. “No, Not Hyacinth.” He could not even think of its proper name at the moment.

  “No town deserves this.” Grenal said simply.

  Jabari burst into a run. Grenal would not allow much distance before he was up by Jabari’s side with the remaining guards not far behind.

  They raced down the valley. They could see Hyacinth now in a pillar of flames. Grey smoke danced across the fields of flowers.

  They reached the edge of town. With an inferno upon their skin, sharpness driving deeper and deeper into their lungs, they simply could get no closer. Jabari fell to his knees. He could do nothing for them. The army had long since left, the damage done, a whole town destroyed. He coughed away the assailing darkness. From beneath his weighted face he spoke the words of the ancients as he lifted shaking hands, calling moisture into the air, raining it down upon the raging flames, the very air cracked and whistled at his command, but he was nothing against this. Such a massive blaze could only make him feel very small and weak. With each fingering flame squelched a new spawn arose to finish the task. He could only wait for the flames to burn out, for the embers to cool, then they would seek out the survivors.

  Rising to his feet, Jabari composed himself, drawing to himself the strength that he needed. “Kerr, Ivar, comb the base of Harpyroost. Start at the far end. Clarice, Meghan, take Great Brother and do the same.” He pointed to the mountain opposite Harpyroost when he realized that did not know it by that name. “If there are any survivors they would have fled to the mountains.” No one could have survived in the town. Dark brown eyes again fell upon the village. When this blaze finally ceased he knew the devastation would be total. He sighed. “Come Grenal, We’ll start at this side of Harpy and meet the brothers in the middle.

  Grenal nodded a firm agreement before the two took the base of the mountain. It did not take long. It was as he had suspected. They found a group of eight huddled in one of the low caves. Five men, two women and a little girl. They had no advance warning; he knew it. Otherwise he would have expected to find mostly women and children here huddled in the dark. Their frightened faces told a story, as blanketed as they were in thick soot with red festering blisters across their arms and legs. Yes, no advance warning, no time to run away and hide. They had been in the town when it happened, likely until no hope remained to save what little they had left.

  Jabari reached out to them instinctively, cautiously. They had been through so much. He did not know if they would remember his face, and know that he was not with the attacking horde.

  “Healer.” One of the women finally exclaimed in her native tongue.

  “I’m here, Child. You are safe.” Jabari choked back tears as he approached her, swifting a long dark braid away from her shoulder before taking her blistered arm into caring hands. She grimaced at his touch then her pain subsided as the Healer swept careful fingers across red and black ravaged skin, leaving behind only her smooth natural brown.

  When she was whole he reached out to the next one. The little girl, lying across cold rock with a man trembling frailly just above her, perhaps her father, agonizing over the fact that he could do nothing for her. Jabari could only make out a faint rise to her chest as she took another torturous breath. To her the flame had not been so kind. It had licked up her left shoulder and onto one side of her face, leaving behind a trail of completely charred and drooping skin and muscle and an eye burned shut with no hope of regaining sight. He laid his hand upon that disfigured face as the man gave the Healer room. In less than an instant the girl opened her eyes and she saw the man before her. She threw her arms around him, only to be followed by an overpowering hug from the man who had watched over her. Tears now flowed down the man’s cheeks.

  Jabari managed to free himself from their grateful embraces as he tended to remaining injuries.

  Finally, they stepped out of the little cave and into the sunlight. Jabari could only watch their faces as they looked across the fields of flowers to their
now smoldering village beyond.

  Kerr and Ivar came up beside him a moment later. “No one.” They proclaimed.

  Clarice and Meghan swept up to his other side after some time had passed. “No one.” They echoed.

  Eight. Five men. Two women and a little girl. All that was left of Hyacinth. All that was left of a people who believed that Great Brother had breathed life into them so many millennia ago. All that was left of the people who spoke that ancient language that had long ago died out in Nine Worlds.

  Jabari’s knees suddenly buckled. The thought of it overtook his wearied soul. As he fell, he felt his weight lifted by his First Guard, who held him to his feet. Kerr came up to his other side, helping Grenal walk him away from the overwhelming sight of It-ikt’bac-ti leveled to the ground. They had done what they could; they could only walk away.

  Exhaustion overtook him now as he left the valley with one arm across the back of Kerr and another across the back Grenal as both of them pulled him along. He did not even hear the soft footsteps approaching at hastened pace. He did not even notice. It was Clarice who turned around to face the advancing foe before her scowl went blank.

  Grenal helped Jabari turn around to see them.

  “I’m Gid.” the man stammered as if he was not certain if he should address the Healer directly or through his many guards. If this was his reaction then the forcefulness of the hug in the cave must have been a momentary bout of madness. “This is my daughter, Shyam.” He spoke with a bit more confidence, as he pulled his arm up and around the little girl, maybe having seen seven Haerfests, a beautiful girl by anyone’s standards. A curtain of shoulder length straight black hair fluttered in the wind then fell back perfectly across the edge of her face and neck. Her newly restored soft brown cheeks flushed red as her father spoke her name.

  Jabari tried not to think about what that left cheek had looked like only hours before.

  Gid extended a shaking hand to them. Kerr reached out to take the man’s hand in his as if to reassure him.

  “We’ve nothing left here.” Gid spoke the obvious as he pushed a long dark strand away from his cheek. The man spoke in a human language to which Jabari was most familiar yet a heavy accent weighted the man’s voice, a slight uncertainty.

  Grenal let out what was likely an unintentional huff, which sounded quite uncaring but Jabari knew him only to be in thought, then Grenal spoke the words that he knew Jabari would just say anyway. “You would like to join us?”

  “Yes.” Gid spoke with all confidence streaming his voice. “I can fight Healer. I will fight for you.” The man looked to his daughter. “And my daughter, she can sew and weave. She will serve you well. Let me fight with you, Healer. If we must die. Let it be for something. Not like this. Like my people. For nothing.”

  “Don’t say that, Gid. Please.” Jabari spoke with labored breath thinking on the colorful streets and cheerful people of the now destroyed town.

  “Everyone stood up against them. Everyone fought. Not a single person ran away, not until there was nothing left. But it did not matter. We were nothing against a force that great. But if I stand with you I know we can take them…” Gid lifted his voice. Shyam buried her face in her father’s arm.

  “That is not my calling, My Son. I can only be there to console and heal. It is not an E’epan’s place to depose a king.”

  Gid withdrew in thought for a moment then spoke without hesitation. “Then let me protect you. I could not protect the village. There were just too many, but I can get stronger. I can learn the ways of your people. We owe you our lives.” He pulled Shyam from his arm and placed a hand on her cheek. “You gave my daughter her face back. You gave her sight.”

  “And the others?” Jabari could not help but wonder just how many he would be taking back with him this day.

  “Just us, Healer. They have decided to go their own way. But I now know the only way is with you.”

  “You may join us, Gid. You and your Shyam. You will be welcomed to our home, our safe place, the Jagged.”

  “Thank you, Master. Thank you.”

  Jabari smiled through his exhaustion and his despair as he had learned to do. As his legs remained weak, it was all he could manage at the time though. They had two more towns in the south they had planned to visit. He would put this from his mind in whatever manner he could so that he could continue in his mission. Then they would return home again until his E’epan duty again called him to venture out to help his wounded people. Yes, he would leave Hyacinth behind as a mere memory possessed by so few. But what could he do, really? Just one man. It was not his place to interfere. He could not escape the bounds of his calling. He had been called by the last god departed to teach and heal. He could be nothing more.