Copyright Matthew Cousineau 2012
This is a work of fiction.
All names, characters, places and incidents, other than those which are in the public domain, are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
First addition published in the United States June 2012
INTRODUCTION
Father Juan stares out into the ocean thumbing his rosary beads. His face carved by time, his dark eyes burdened with many secrets. He takes a calming breath letting the perfume of the sea relax him. Forty years of lessons, training and secrecy in the isolated monastery of his order all of it preparation for this moment. Now it has come. Will he be ready? Will he, a Spanish orphan born with nothing and raised in a small Italian village, finally prove the truth in the gospels of his order? Their faith will be justified and his mentor freed from the dark, cold prison that will soon claim his life. He knows the importance of his mission, knows what the cost of failure is. But will he have the strength to do what must be done?
Footsteps creek against wood. "Patience Captain. The Lord guides us, so have faith. It will not be long now. The undiscovered lands filled with wealth beyond your imagination await you and your crew. Your name will be remembered by all learned men of the modern world. Just remember our trust: I show you the way to a New World and your men escort me to the ancient tower. Then you can return home a hero and with enough wealth to buy yourself a crown.” The captain stops his pacing and looks down at the pagan map in the hands of this insignificant priest. His patience exhausted; he knows only prison awaits him if he returns to the queen with nothing. He asks himself why he believed the words of a priest who follows a map with ungodly symbols. He opens his mouth ready to remind the priest of what failure will cost when a voice rings down from above.
"LAND HO!" shouts Rodrigo De Triana.
A tan skinned boy sits on the banks of an inlet his people call the gate to heaven. He wears pants made from animal skins and there are feathers in his rough, long black hair. He stares out into the rising mist of the morning lost in thought. Humiliated again by his older brother, Rising Grass asks the spirits to guide him on the next hunt. He prays for the sight to see like the birds and run like the deer. He is getting closer to becoming a man but he has not grown like other boys his age. His brother mocks and beats him, calling him a girl in front of the whole tribe. Rising Grass remembers the look in his father’s eyes, the look of disappointment -- it crushed him. He could not hold back his tears and he ran away in shame. How will he face his father now, he thinks as he wipes more tears from his eyes. Rising Grass looks up at the rocks that rise from the waters and disappear into the low hanging clouds. He sees birds jump from the cliffs startled by something beyond the mist. Rising Grass’s heart begins to thunder and his body goes ridged. He begins to feel the presence of something beyond his understanding. Sitting up he puts his hands on the moist gravel and leans forward trying to pierce the fog with his eyes. His heart pounds louder, faster. His stomach turns on itself in anticipation. Then a great wind, silent but as if blown by the spirits themselves, reveal two great boats larger than anything he has ever seen. Rising Grass jumps to his feet and watches these vessels float closer. Echoes of strange men bounce off the rocks. Branches crack, bushes sway, leaves twist and fall as Rising Grass runs into the forest. He goes to warn his tribe that Gods are coming and he has seen their great canoes.
Juan understands that the captain and his crew assume they have discovered a new world but he knows better. These lands have been hidden from the East for thousands of years. Hidden through time by a mystical race of man known as the Delar. It was a Delar that began Juan’s order. In 29 B.C. the Consul of Rome devised a plan to assassinate Cleopatra. Word had reached the Consul’s ears that the young empresses had bound herself with a dark relic and planned to use it against the empire. She had become focused on the domination of Rome, not for its wealth or land but for Rome’s ships. She needed them to sail west across the ocean. An elite band of Roman soldiers were given the task to murder the queen. They were lead by Gnaeus Titus a talented soldier with a powerful secret. He was not Roman but a Delar in disguise.
At the footsteps of Alexandria they made their last stand against a horde of Egyptian warriors. Knowing defeat was close, Gnaeus sacrificed himself, but not before giving a young, Roman solider a map. This was the map Cleopatra and her bewitched Roman lover were obsessed with finding. Once the soldier touched the map he was shown a vision. All the marking vanished save one, the symbol of the Delar. Knowing he must get the map out of Egypt he stripped off his armor and stowed away on a merchant ship to Africa and vanished. Centuries passed and the map surfaced again in the hands of a humble monk. This monk was part of a secret society that met in the catacombs under Rome. They passed the map down from generation to generation. Not until Juan touched it as a child did the markings reappear shaping his destiny.
Juan and the crew follow the map into the heart of the New World. They discover a wild and beautiful land filled with primitive men and fantastic creatures beyond anything in the East. There is magic in this New World and the men fear it. Juan weeps as he watches the men pillage the small tribes of native people they discover. Justifying their actions in the name of God, their rifles polluting this majestic land. The New World runs red with the blood of the innocent natives and Juan prays for the strength to continue through the horrors he witnesses. He knows there will be punishment for the atrocities committed in God’s name. But for now he cannot worry about God’s wrath. He has a mission and he must carry it out no matter the cost.
The men’s desires and greed grow as they move farther and farther inland. Juan questions himself: he wonders what he has brought to this place he can only describe as paradise, perhaps the lost Eden, and it is me, he thinks, a man of God that brought the sickness of the modern world to it. It takes almost two months to reach the end of their journey. Their quest has led them to the base of a dark tower that rises over a windswept canyon. The men can feel the tower’s aura reach for them like the fingers of death as the sun begins to set. The weight of their crimes grows heavy and voices begin to creep into their souls. The Captain forms an alliance with the local people using them as guides, and they begin their journey into the belly of the tower.
After two days of descending into the depths of the tower they enter a deep stone chamber. The explorers look out into the chamber and see a small wooden bridge. The bridge fades into darkness and the crew is crippled with fear. The native warriors kneel before the bridge and begin chanting. Their shadows flicker in the torchlight and the Conquistadors become anxious as the ceremony continues. The natives' praying gets louder and faster, and the chamber is getting hotter and hotter. The captain is holding a rifle tightly in his hands and nervously close to his chest. He follows Juan to the bridge that leads into the nothingness of the chamber. They cross the bridge and disappear into a dot of light. Juan steps off the bridge onto a small platform and raises his torch. It reveals a stone alter and he places the black map on it. In front of the alter is a gargoyle-like statue. To the captain the statue is like some demon or hellish creature described to him by the priests of his youth. Juan reaches into his pockets and dips his finger in a pouch of ashes and marks his forehead. A red mist rises from the abyss. The captain lowers his rifle and takes the torch from Juan, shining the light on the map never taking his eyes off the statue. All the navigation markings fade and new symbols begin to appear on the parchment. Juan begins to read the pagan symbols, and the chanting from the natives echoes louder and loude
r in the chamber. The rising mist thickens, and Juan's voice grows louder and deeper. His arms wave franticly as he nears the end of the symbols. The ground shakes, and the captain cautiously steps back. He looks to his side and sees a smaller alter. On the alter their is a black blade carved from a reflective stone. He stares at the blade, his breath disappears and his heart stops. He hears a voice speak to him in a language he does not understand. The words chill his spine and tears of black seep from his eyes. Corrupted with a malice of something dark and ancient the captain looks to Juan, to the statue, than back to the blade. The captain tosses the torch into the depths of the tower as Juan finishes his reading. The chamber goes quiet, and Juan looks back. A crimson light erupts from below, and through the chaos, Juan sees the captain with his black tears, holding the blade.
"No! You do not know what you are doing! You will release him!" he shouts.
The blade lunges into Juan’s belly and exits through his back. The small blade growing as the blood of the priest drips from its side. The captain grabs Juan by his shoulder, pulling the priest closer. Juan's face convulses, and his veins contract as the blade sucks the life out of him. The captain looks at the marking on Juan's forehead. It is the symbol of the Delar, and it ignites in flames burning into Juan's flesh. The captain releases Juan, and he falls to the ground. He watches as Juan’s blood begins filling grooves carved in the stone that lead to the statue. He looks down at the blade and he hears the voice again. He begins to laugh as a wind from the darkness circles around him and the grotesque statue crumbles to pieces. Two white eyes pierce the darkness and a roar echoes through the chamber.
CHAPTER ONE
Waking suddenly, Loeau grabs the amulet on her chest. Between short gasps, she looks up and moonlight illuminates her silver eyes. She looks through the walls of animal skins, through the forest, and through the darkness she sees what is coming. She blinks and with a wave of her hand, candles ignite throughout the small hut. An amber glow grows and illuminates her dark, quite home. Loeau turns her head waving her long black hair and stares at her twin boys. Her children are fast asleep and Loeau enjoys the moment of peace. Loeau gently caresses each of their small heads. Never taking her eyes off her young, she reaches above their blankets and takes down her sword. It is an ancient weapon and in the days of her first fathers it was named the Namid.
Loeau rustles the furs of the bed, waking her man Noe. He groggily wakes from his deep slumber, and Loeau ignores him while she gathers supplies from the hut. He grabs her arm. "Why are you awake? And why do you carry the Namid in your hand?" With a deep-seated sigh, Loeau tells Noe of her dream. She tells him of a temple in the darkness, strange foreign men, and the eyes, white eyes that have haunted her dreams before. She looks intensely at Noe and tries to hide her fear.
"They will soon be at our door. You must arm yourself, my love."
"And what of you? What of our children?"
"I will take our sons to a clearing where a stream crosses a tree whose roots have grown wild. There I must try to find a way to save them from a fate we cannot escape."
From the day Noe saw Loeau roaming the forest he has been consumed by her. She was naked and wild, but graceful and majestic like a forest doe. Her mystical aura and unmatched beauty were like nothing he had ever witnessed, and when he looked into her eyes, his soul was hers. He knew when he left his people, to live a nomad's life in the deepest parts of the Black Forest, a night like this could come.
Noe dresses, stringing together his loincloth. He stares at Loeau with a heavy heart, knowing these moments will likely be their last. Noe's eyes fill with sadness as he watches Loeau put on her traveling cloak. A strange and powerful enchantment surrounds the cloak, hiding her in darkness, but it does little now to calm Noe's fears. Loeau tightens her sword belt, and for this moment the Namid is quiet and at peace.
Loeau's face, which usually shines like light flickering on water, is darkened with doubt. Noe embraces Loeau and rests her face against his chest. She takes his hand into hers and Noe says his good-byes. He rests an intimate kiss on Loeau's forehead and whispers, "Do not fear what must be done this night, for you will soon be in my arms again."
Loeau picks up a candle and hands it to him. She glances around the home they have made together. Loeau takes a knife from Noe's belt and cuts a lock from her hair. She looks up at her love holding back her tears and tries to smile. She puts her hair into his hand. "Be brave and without fear," she says. Noe looks down at his sons and kisses each of their foreheads and rests his head against hers. Loeau turns and quietly slips out into the night with that last seeds of his fathers.
Standing alone in silence, holding Loeau’s hair, Noe closes his eyes and breathes deeply. The distance between him and his beloved is growing. He understands that he must survive as long as possible to help his family escape. Still holding the candle, he picks up his axe. Noe walks out of the hut and into the cool night. Without looking back, he tosses the candle onto the roof. Noe picks up a stake and pounds it into the ground. He unties his loincloth and ties a foot to the stake. Although banished from his home as a young man for loving a stranger, tonight he will die like a true Meno warrior. Like his ancestors who knew when death was close, he will bind himself to the ground, showing his enemy his courage. Noe stands up and faces the darkness, waiting, as his home burns behind him.
The distance between Loeau and her home grows. Her destination is a place that she has never been, but has seen in a fading dream. As Loeau hastily hacks through the thick forest brush, she hears movement and stops. She crouches, hiding within the cover of the forest. She looks into the darkness trying to see who is coming. Her silver eyes glow reflecting the moonlight casting shadows on the tall grasses. Loeau prays that her babies continue to sleep, unaware of the darkness that she has foreseen. Loeau lowers her head. Warriors are approaching. They are spread out and moving swiftly through the bush. Loeau curls into a ball, clutching her cloak tightly, disappearing in a veil of darkness. The men carry sticks that glow an eerie blue. She hears the rattling of bones and jewelry of one warrior. She knows the tribe he belongs to -- he is a Yosemite from the west. The other two warriors are like no men she has ever seen. They are dressed in foreign clothes and have chest armor forged from ore. They carry strange weapons and move awkwardly in the forest.
Loeau looks out from behind her cloak and watches as the Yosemite passes her by. Loeau's nostrils sting as the faint smell of smoke rides on the night air. Akelou, one of her sons, hiccups in his sleep, and Loeau hears a warrior stop. He begins to speak in a foreign tongue, and Loeau grips her sword, ready for action. A reddish glow seeps into her cloak, and she hears the men turn and run away. With a sigh of relief, Loeau holds her babies tightly and breaks into a run. She moves quickly through the forest. As she journeys farther into the night, Loeau clutches her necklace, hearing her name echo in the forest.
"LOEAU!" The piecing cry of her love brings her to her knees. It is Noe calling her name as death takes him. In the darkness with tears streaking down her dirtied face she looks up through the trees and at the sky. Loeau whispers a lament for Noe and takes out a small pouch from under her cloak.
"Your father rejoins the soil that bore him, my sons, with no shame or fear for himself."
Loeau quickly opens the pouch from her cloak and dips her finger inside. With a finger covered in glowing ash, she dots her sons' foreheads. Loeau wipes her tears with the same finger, leaving glowing streaks down her face. A horrible roar fills the air, shooting her to her feet. Her trail has been found. Time is now her enemy. Staggering and clutching her children tightly, Loeau runs as fast as the forest allows. Closing in, is a doom that Loeau cannot escape but one that she must delay. Loeau stumbles down a gravel bank breaking through a thicket of thorn bushes that tear at her cloak. She stops abruptly as she recognizes this place. Loeau shivers and stares at the tree whose roots have grown wild.
"And so it is."
---
This will be the place of
her death, and Loeau knows it. She walks over to the tree and falls to her knees, splashing in the shallow stream. Loeau tears her necklace from her neck, breaking its chain. Holding it with both hands, she shuts her eyes and speaks out into the night.
"My end is near, take whatever life still beats in my heart and save my loves and our last hope."
Her hands begin to shake and the amulet radiates with power. It illuminates the forest with blinding light that bounces off the water’s surface like brilliant white spears. Loeau tries not to yell out, but the pain is too great. The pain intensifies as the necklace sears the skin of her hands. When Loeau opens her eyes she sees something coming toward her. Soaring in the night, it shimmers in the darkness. Loeau smiles as she sees an Uluani, The Moon Shimmer, rarest of all creatures and an omen of hope. It was in the darkest hour of her ancestors when evil had snuffed out all light that an Uluani shimmered on a moonless night. The Uluani ignited hope where it was lost, leading her people out of the darkness.
Distracted by the majestic bird, Loeau does not realizing the water has been rising, soaking her robes. The brook that was barely a trickle has turned into a powerful stream with surging currents, and Loeau now kneels waist-deep in it. The bird, the water, the dream: it is all as it should to be. The Uluani hovers casting great shadows in the brilliant light that radiates from the amulet. Loeau knows now why the Uluani has shown itself to her. She takes Akelou from her shoulder and looks into his eyes.
“Akelou, my gift, we have only been together for a short time but you must now go and begin a new life. Trust your instincts, for many in this world will not understand but fear you. Remember, I will always be watching, for the connection between a mother and her child never dies.” Loeau quickly hugs Akelou tightly and kisses his forehead through tear-soaked lips. Then, she looks into the eyes of the bird and speaks.
The New World (The Last Delar) Page 1
