by William Cali
“You do not understand because you are a simpleton and a brute. There is an infinite amount of words to describe who you are, and yet none will be sufficient to capture this stupidity.” His body remained still as he spoke; even his lips barely moved. “To trespass here uninvited? It’s been years since I’ve seen such bold foolishness. But I do commend you on making this journey. It is as my subordinate has made clear… I have gone some time without visitors.”
Gilbrand was mulling the words over in his mind. What an insulting cur! But this was Lord, or Master, whichever, Yozer. He would hold his tongue to the many insults. “Sir, I—”
“The relationship I have with my vassals is very clear.” Yozer began to stir, his fingers stretched out and grabbed at the air. “I grant you the privilege to use my name in your conquests. That should serve as enough for you to control the lands before us. My name rules this world, and brings it peace, harmony, and prosperity.” He paused, clasping his hands in front of his body. Gilbrand felt every word pluck at his nerves like the strings of a music maker. “In times of strife, I have called men here to hold counsel with them. I have not called you. So why, fool, have you come to my humble abode?”
“My lor—my master. I have come here to ask for your aid in destroying an enemy.” Gilbrand trembled as he spoke, and his armor clattered like a mug falling down a flight of stairs. “A village in my control has taken on a rebellious nature. A large, dark-skinned man, of whom I have not seen the likes of before, has defeated me in single combat.” His voice rose in his anger. “He humiliated me, disarmed me, and denied me my tax rights as guaranteed by you! He, and the rest of Somerville, they laugh in my face, they laugh at your name. They need to be brought to heel like the mongrel dogs they are.”
“Somerville… Somerville… this is a name of no consequence to me. So, you are telling me that after battering you around, the villagers banished you from their home. Now, you’ve come to me with your tail between your legs, asking me to help you. What kind of a man are you?”
Gilbrand didn’t feel like much of a man at all. He stammered out his protests, “It is not that. It is this mysterious man! He was unlike anything I have ever seen, and inhumanely strong! A man with dark skin, as if he had been burned by the sun. He was massive, taller than any man I have ever seen. When he swung his sword, I felt as if my arm was going to be torn off with every powerful blow. He led them into this mutiny. His presence is of great concern to me, and it should be to you, too. We must end this threat to our world.”
Agme chuckled lightly to himself at that. “Our world? Do not forget your place, noble knight. You are speaking in the presence of the true master of this world. Your existence is a gift from him and nothing more.”
Master Yozer had taken on a more pensive appearance, head tilted slightly, arms out of sight, and he began to walk, pacing slowly from left to right. Agme looked on, seemingly jarred by his master’s posture. Finally, Yozer spoke. “What do you know of this man?”
“N… nothing! I do not even know his name, but he was fearless, savage. H… he said to me that he was full of surprises!”
“He disarmed you but did not kill you? So, you fled like a coward as soon as your sword left your grasp.”
“That is not exactly right, my master. He knocked me over and had his sword drawn to my throat. He threatened me to never return. So, I left, without my weapon or my tribute.”
“Could this be…? Impossible. They’ve been long dead and buried. No. No, it has been over a century…” Gilbrand and Agme both watched the aged master, lost deep in his own thoughts, with concern. He snapped toward Gilbrand. “This man has made a mockery of my name and my rule. Had he killed you and taken control of this worthless village for himself, that I could understand. Unacceptable, but understandable. I know the whims of mortal men. They act in favor of power, and when there is someone holding that power, they try and steal it. But to defeat you, humiliate you, and then leave you to tell the masses of your defeat under my name… This is disgraceful.”
He smiled now, a thin line pasted over his waxy face. That slight grin of his lips caused Gilbrand to quake, a bitter chill creeping into his heart.
“Yes, yes! Thank you, my lord, for understanding. This is a great dishonor to your name, and it must be rectified. Please help me in destroying these curs, in putting down this village!”
Master Yozer shook his head. His stare pierced into Gilbrand, and Gilbrand’s eyes began to water. From the corner of his eye, he saw Agme backing away, retreating to the corner of the room.
“Oh yes, I understand well. You have brought this shame onto my flag. Of the village Somerville, I care very little. It is this man of whom you speak, this rebellious upstart, this firebrand, this… Crusader.” His face twisted in visible disgust at this last word, which he spoke with such hate that Gilbrand jumped to his feet in shock. He moved to kneel again, but his judgment told him otherwise.
“Oh, so now you rise?” Yozer was standing across from Gilbrand, wringing out his fingers as if they were drenched in water. “That is for the best. I have no remorse for those who dishonor my name. You have taken it lightly. You are meant to live by my name, die by my name if called upon. Look at you now, cowering like some beaten dog.” He clenched his hands and raised his arms. He seemed to be staring straight through to Gilbrand’s soul.
“But, my lord! My master! I fight for you in all matters. I fight for your name above all!”
“Then DIE for me!”
Gilbrand reached for his sword out of reflex, finding nothing but air in its place. He stared up in despair at Yozer. I came for help!
Yozer’s arms were extended straight forward, palms out. The air around Gilbrand seemed to become heavier, the cloth of his tunic pressed to his chest, his hair standing on end. Gilbrand’s eyes widened as bolts of electricity passed between Yozer’s arms. Lightning surged from his shoulders to his wrists like a spider’s web of blue energy. The air cracked and snapped, like a forest being torn from the ground.
Yozer opened his eyes and smiled evilly. As the armored knight turned to run, Yozer closed his hands into fists. A storm of electricity coursed into Gilbrand. The heavy steel armor served as a lightning rod, drawing bolt after bolt into every part of his body.
Gilbrand howled in horrible pain. Every muscle, every one of his nerves was on fire. His final moments, only seconds, stretched into an eternity of agony. The metal of his armor began to melt into his skin, transforming him into a medieval chimera. His eyes popped, leaking bloody carnage down the neck hole of his armor. He continued to scream until his tongue was fried inside of his mouth, charred like a kebob left over an open fire for too long.
Agme grimaced and turned away from the horror, unsettled by his master’s gory tastes. Gilbrand’s entire body had seized up. His organs were losing their form, one after the other. Gilbrand suffered until he lost consciousness. A moment after that, his heart and brain stopped functioning, and he was no more. Yozer continued, regardless. He held his hands out and unleashed bolt after bolt into his vassal’s corpse. Gilbrand’s lifeless body tumbled to the ground, smoke rising from his smoking remains.
Yozer breathed heavily, fountains of sweat running down his neck and forehead, but he finally seemed content. A coughing fit took him, and he stumbled back, reaching out to the desk for support. Agme approached his master, but Master Yozer cautioned him back.
“Do not forget your place, I need no assistance,” he managed to say through the violent coughing.
Agme shot him a look of concern but walked instead towards what was left of Gilbrand. He was mangled beyond recognition. His melted limbs and face made him look like a ghoul left out in the desert sun to die a slow death. “Tsk, tsk. Not much of a noble end for you, eh nobleman?” Agme uttered a sarcastic laugh as he returned to Master Yozer’s side.
“Master, you seem weary. Shall I dispose of this body for you?”
Yozer ignored him. “Lord Yozer? I am certain that I’ve never used that epita
ph for myself.” He coughed again, loud and deep within his chest. His hands were twitching violently.
Agme tried his best to mask his concern. “No, master, I do not believe you have. The masses tend to create their own myths.”
“The ignorant masses will do as they wish,” Master Yozer scoffed. “With me out of sight, even fear of my power has begun to wane.” He pressed his hands together and stared at them pensively. “I am not familiar with Somerville.”
“Nor I, Master. My crows are tasked with finding able enough men who can instill order in the land. In most respects, they do very well. But…” Agme glanced at the melted mass behind him. “I was unaware of this one. I suppose the stock of suitable lords in this region has diminished. I can think of no other reason that such an incompetent would carry the flag of your name.” He approached a table at the end of the room covered with weathered scrolls. “I must check my records and my maps. A worthy vassal will be needed to fill the vacuum his death has created.”
“And what of the mysterious man he spoke of. You know nothing of him, either?” Master Yozer asked.
“No, but surely this fool’s observations should not be taken seriously, should they Master? He seemed a blunderer of the highest order.”
“Is he the only one?” Master Yozer snarled. “It seems the men I have trusted to support my rule have been altogether ineffective.”
Agme tilted his head slightly. “Sir?”
Master Yozer roared into Agme’s face: “YOU! HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN! Is this sabotage? You have sat at my feet and nipped at the heels of my greatness like a mongrel dog sucks on a teat. Is your only desire to consume every bit of knowledge from my person, and do nothing in return?”
“I’m sorry, Master. My crows, they’re usually very informative. I don’t understand it myself,” he stammered, backing up a few steps. “P…perhaps Somerville being so close was a blind spot. My agents all the way on the western coast are most informative. Just yesterday I received word in regard to the city Nenahnezad. The people there march daily in reverence to your glory!”
“And yet we have reached this point,” replied Master Yozer with a deep, rattling sigh. “Well, no matter. I will end this problem as it stands. I will raze this peasant village to the ground myself. Surely that… Crusader… will be one of the masses I slaughter.”
“Sir?”
“I will brook no threat to my throne, however unlikely the source.”
“You will go yourself? Is that the best idea Master?”
Master Yozer stared at Agme, his gaze piercing his servant like a dagger. “You dare question my power?”
“No, Master, never. But even you may be challenged and defeated.” He spoke his concern as delicately as possible. “And that besides, this work is beneath a man of your stature. Why not send a vassal like this old fool, but a more dependable one at that, to take care of this for you? Why not send me?”
“Where there is one rebel visible, there are a thousand more brewing in the shadows. I shall make my presence known. These fools, they are all still young, and they do not recall the turmoil of the Age of Monsters. I will smite any hope that the people have of ever ending my rule.” He stormed out of the room, not interested in his apprentice’s response. Agme let out all the air in his lungs. He was frightened beyond belief, and only hoped that he hadn’t betrayed any of that fear.
Master Yozer returned to the room, and Agme snapped back to attention. The master leaned over and whispered into the body. Then he grabbed the mass of metal, bone, and flesh with his left hand, and lifted it up as if it was light as a feather. He turned towards Agme and smiled. “I think I might make use of this.”
He walked out the door again, leaving Agme puzzled and alone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The people worked at their tasks with an anxious fever. The normal peace and tranquility in Somerville had transformed into industrial efficiency as they made their preparations. Pent was reminded of an ant farm his friend Kevin had as a kid. Most of the time, the ants would just do their own thing. They would mull about, picking at food, delivering things to their majestic queen, and digging new tunnels. Dozens of worker ants, always busy but mostly following a pattern, a rhythm. But when you disturbed that balance, maybe by dropping water into the tank or tapping on the glass next to where the queen rests, for a brief moment all thought became panic. The ants fluttered in each direction, they sprinted to complete their tasks, they moved in lockstep to protect the queen. Their society reacted and then adapted. Pent watched as Somerville adapted before his eyes.
He looked on as Chief Pohk gave a sympathetic speech to his people.
“I have sworn to protect and watch over all of you. In this position of leadership it would be folly to lie. The honest truth is this: our situation is dire. Those who would join us, please understand that death is the most likely outcome. But now I’m asking you to protect and watch over this village. To risk everything we could one day become. Our very lives in a wager for our homes and our way of life, this is what our forefathers would have done. And it is what I will do as well.” The people were roused. There may have been a few naysayers, but the majority were ready to take up arms. The fear of a brutal death at the hands of an unknown force was not stronger than the fear of losing their homes.
Pent and Chief Pohk helped to assign people to various tasks based on how they could help and contribute. Most of the people went to Cenk.
“No help, no,” he said as he tried to send them off as soon as they came. The chief stepped in, however, and chastised the stout blacksmith for his stubbornness.
“Your pride is not more important than the lives of the people here. I don’t care if every sword isn’t a masterpiece!” With a bit of prodding, Cenk accepted the help.
Faldo was much easier to work with; he was already an experienced foreman. Having been so proficient in construction and building houses, he quickly took to assigning his people to various tasks. “All right, you and you, I need you to take stock of the material we have. Lumber, stone, figure this out and send word back to me. I need you all here to start setting the foundation for our two fortifications. Be patient, I’ll lay out exactly where the posts go in a moment. As for you four, start digging a trench over there. We shall present a small token of appreciation for our visitors…” With all of the extra hands, his plan was moving forward swiftly.
Lemen needed a bit more coaxing. Mother Lyle was doing a good job keeping him focused on what he did best – making the booze. She took over the cocktail bottling and left the distilling to Lemen. Faldo’s sister, Daley, helped by making wicks out of thin strips of wooden twine. Her hands moved delicately and with the same level of precision she had when making clothes for Somerville’s residents. The other villagers were tasked with making small containers of clay.
“You want to make it so that the opening is as small as possible. Pour the drink in, seal it up, and put the wick in. You want it to be sealed as well as possible.” Pent had given Lyle the instructions, and she had taken to the task expertly. He was unsure how many of the firebombs they would have ready to go, but the more on deck, the better.
Pent spoke to Lemen as well. He was in full-blown functional alcoholic mode, surprisingly productive for a drunk. He had a noticeable wobble to his step, but there was no slur in his speech.
“Pent, thank you for trusting me with this. I know I might not seem like much, but this place is my home.” His eyes grew watery, but he smiled. “My family is here. I’m willing to do anything for Somerville.”
Pent hadn’t seen any of Lemen’s family for as long as he had been in Somerville, but he didn’t have time to ponder the remark. “I know, man. I believe in you, and so does everyone else here.” Lemen smiled at the praise, and Pent left Lemen to his work. Most of the villagers in town, men and women, even children, were shuffling to and fro, occupied with several different tasks.
Pent’s main task was dropping in and out of people’s homes, making su
re everyone had fallen into their assignments. He was so caught up in this task that he didn’t notice the bearded man yelling his name.
“Pent, hey!”
Pent turned, and Hanar was catching up to him. Exactly who I need to talk to. “Hey, man. Short time no see.”
“Indeed. I’m glad I caught up with you. I’ve managed to set up a campsite by Gordenthorpe’s home. I don’t want to disturb him, but I don’t think he will mind much. It’s not in that clearing exactly, but relatively close by.”
“Got it. That’s good work, man. I’m happy you caught up with me, too. I need to run something by you.”
“My good friend, ask away.”
Pent didn’t see a reason to beat around the bush. “Who is going to lead the children and other villagers to this campsite?”
Hanar shrugged. “I’m not too sure… One of the other villagers. I can take him through the path, show him the best and fastest route.”
“It has to be you, man. You need to lead them out into the woods.”
“No, no.” Hanar waved his hands as if he could shoo the words away. “There are others who could handle this task. It’s a simple matter of knowing where to go. Anyone could be capable if taught.”
“That isn’t going to work,” Pent said, shaking his head. “It’s gotta be you. I’ve already talked about this with Mother Lyle and the chief, and they both agree.”
“You want me to just… pass through on the eve of battle, tell you all the threat approaches, and then run away? Am I not to fight by your side?” He stared off into the distance, unable or unwilling to make eye contact. “I am always cast off, forever the outsider. I suppose it’s my own fault, spending so much time in the wilderness. But now, when I mean to prove myself to the chief, I’m to be sent away. You’re barely above a stranger here, and even you consider me an outcast.”
“It’s the exact opposite, Hanar.” Pent knew this conversation would be a difficult one, but he also knew it needed to happen. “Those people go out there into the woods without you, what are they going to do? Just wander around in a circle? Knock on Gordenthorpe’s invisible door? I’ve been in those woods by myself before. Calling them a maze doesn’t even come close. They’re screwed out there; they need you to guide them.”
