A Quick Sun Rises

by Thomas Rath

  “Give her another whip,” Egan directed, his eyes darting to the right to scan the tree line for any signs of danger. Brandt whipped her back repeatedly but still she would not move. Grabbing the reins from his son, Egan snapped them hard on the old horse’s hide and she jolted forward but stopped immediately, her body suddenly shaking. It was then that Egan felt the cold grip his heart.

  “Papa,” Brandt called out, his face white with sudden terror, his eyes large and round.

  Grabbing his axe, Egan stepped down from the wagon using all of his will power to resist throwing down his weapon and racing headlong for town. Never in his life had he felt the terror that now reached into his throat and threatened to cut off his breath. His eyes strained, searching the wood for whatever it was that shaking him so. Tears started falling down his face as he could feel his doom was set and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  It was then that a large shadow passed them overhead, and Egan threw himself to the ground, his own scream swallowed in that of the giant creature that was swooping down upon the town in a fury. Egan pulled himself up to the side of the wagon and watched with his son in stunned silence as fire shot repeatedly from the creature’s mouth and devoured the town and its people. All night they remained in shocked quiet neither able to speak or move as they witnessed Gildor burn, the muffled cries of it citizens filling the cool night air.

  * * *

  Rem walked along next to his horse letting it rest the last few miles before reaching Waterford and home. He’d been away for three weeks, two of that in travel alone, and he missed his family desperately. It had not been all in vain though as his pack horse was full of goods for which he’d been able to trade the week he’d spent in Clear Water. Normally he would have made the trip the month before, but a late spring had put off his semi-annual trip until now. In the fall he would do it all over again. He didn’t enjoy being away from home for such long periods but the income he received from it would almost feed his family for the year. Six total weeks away was definitely worth such returns.

  This trip was especially fruitful and he smiled thinking how his little ones would react when he pulled out the presents he’d bought for them. A cornhusk doll for Kaely, a carved horse for Mallory, and a play sword for Teryn would make him their hero for months to come. He chuckled at the thought, finding himself suddenly whistling one of the catchy tunes he’d heard coming out of the tavern he’d camped by on the outskirts of town. With the money he’d made he certainly could have enjoyed better accommodations but he preferred to use the extra he’d save to buy the dress he was bringing home for his wife, Annie.

  His step got quicker at the thought of his sweetheart. They had practically grown up together and had decided to marry almost as soon as they could talk. Although no one would have expected them to keep such a promise as was made when so young, everyone could see as they grew how well they complimented each other. So it was no shock when they finally did wed. Many commenting that they either thought they already were or that it was about time.

  Rem crested a small hill and paused for a brief moment rising on the tips of his toes as he tried to catch the slightest glimpse of home. If the light was just right he knew he’d be able to see the few houses that were built right at the water’s edge, but the sun was low in the sky to the west affording him no such view. He sighed and pressed on. It was only a slight drop and then another climb before he would be standing on the last rise and the short descent into town. There he would be able to see the whole town and feel the salty breeze press against his face; something he had loved since boyhood. Though he wasn’t a sailor, it was the sea for Rem. And had it not been for his extreme nausea when even in the calmest waters he would have taken to one of the ships in Waterford’s harbor and sailed as far as the eye could see on the horizon.

  Clicking his tongue, he urged his mount and packhorse down the gentle slope and forward toward home. It was now less than a mile to go and his stomach growled slightly at the thought of Annie’s cooking. His meager rations and the small game he was able to get on the trail had gotten old the first week out. Besides the arms of his wife and children wrapped tightly around him, it was a home cooked meal he was craving the most right then.

  Reaching the last rise he felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach that made his breath catch as it seemed to spread through his body quickly throwing him into a panic. He couldn’t tell from where it came but he suddenly knew that all was not well. He’d heard of the premonitions some women received that typically boded evil, but he’d never believed them true or heard of a man feeling the same. He’d always given it over to superstition and dramatic hindsight, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that danger and tragedy were close. Pressing on, though barely able to command his legs to move in front of him, he pulled the horses along as he desperately raced for the top of the rise. Stumbling repeatedly, his free hand and knees were sliced and raw by the time he finally reached the crest of the last hill.

  He froze in place, his breath caught in his chest as a tear traveled down his cheek. Gasping, he tried to take in air and clear the dizziness in his head that was due to the shock at what his eyes were seeing. They city of his childhood was in ruins, as if a thousand years had passed since he’d last left only three weeks earlier. The houses, the ships, the shops and stores were all a massive decaying wreck. His eyes darted to the area he could best determine was where his home was but it too was in the same condition as the rest of the city. What could have done such a thing? What demonic weapon or creature could decay a city and its people in such a short space of time?

  As if in answer, a far off cry echoed through the evening air as he dropped to his knees and wept.

  Chapter Twenty

  Slowing her horse to a casual trot, Jne gave her mount a short break from the speed she’d forced upon it for the past couple of hours. Though Tjal bred for quickness and endurance, no horse could maintain such exertion for much longer and survive. Squinting against the blinding sun, now setting directly in front of them, she scanned the area that was losing some of the rolling hills and patches of trees to a flatter, grass laden plain. It wouldn’t be long before she entered the Enn. The thought filled her with both exhilaration and dread. Too long had she been away from her homeland living in the dysfunctional HuMan realms. She craved the logic and honor of the Tjal with its plainness of landscape, purpose and thought.

  She breathed deeply the warm air that was now mixed with the scent of the grass that was growing more abundantly and marked the beginnings of what would, in another half day’s ride, finally mark the boarders of her homeland. Suppressing a yawn, she hopped off her horse and walked along side it stretching the stiffness from her legs while giving her mount some deserved rest. She had spent almost two straight days in the saddle pressing her horse onward, anxious to complete her assigned task. Her mind wondered briefly down the trails of thought of what it meant for her to return to the Enn but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on it much. She would succeed or not and that was all that mattered. What it required for her to be successful could not be helped, nor could the consequences to Thane should she fail and not return.

  Her brief consideration of Thane drew him unbidden into her thoughts and clouded her mind with his face. Though needing to remain focused on her task, she allowed herself a few quiet moments of dreaming with him that she had always kept buried in the deepest caverns of her mind. Suddenly she blushed as her reflections had taken her farther than she had originally planned to let them. She had finally allowed herself to admit that her admiration for him had begun the night she found him passed out in the mud beyond the Mogolth Mountains. She knew it was wrong when she discovered he was not Tjal but the longer she spent time with him the more her feelings grew no matter how unbidden. And finally it appeared that those feelings were shared and returned to her. She had been jealous almost to a rage when they’d found Tam and it was obvious that Thane’s heart beat loudest for her. For that fact alone
she would have killed the Chufa girl and claimed Thane to herself. But she had found a strange respect for Tam; had seen an inner strength that matched hers to where she understood and even respected Tam’s desires toward Thane. She knew that only the strange Chufa custom kept him from Tam but that left him to discover his own respect and feelings for her. To the disordered HuMans it would have been an insult for her to be second in line to Thane’s affections, but for a Tjal woman who understood such things it had been the highest compliment. Thane was hers whether he knew and accepted it or not.

  Blushing, she forced thoughts of him from her mind as she continued to press forward toward the edges of what made up the vast Plains of Enn. She could ill afford the fog that such ideas created in her mind as she needed to concentrate on the realities that would soon force themselves upon her. Moving her hands deliberately, she forced them with an iron will to loosen the buckles that kept her weapons strapped like a part of her body to her back. Almost reverently, she secured them to her horse in such a way as to make them close to impossible to retrieve quickly. She felt naked and exposed but resisted the desire to take up her swords again. It was necessary to accomplish what she’d been sent to do. It was necessary to regain her place and her honor. It was the only way to save the lives of her people when she finally came upon them.

  Running along side her mount, she quickly put miles behind her as she raced through the night and deeper into the plains that were her home. The air seemed fresher, the scent of the grass rejuvenating as she left the filth and stench of the HuMan world behind. It was exhilarating to pace herself with the strength of her horse as they sprinted forward going deeper and deeper into the Tjal realm. Her body seemed to waken with each lilting step renewing her strength of mind and body and filling her with satisfaction at being home again. How she ached to feel the comfort of her swords like an extension of her natural body swing precisely and with deadly accuracy in her hands. She wanted to feel that oneness that only was felt when flesh gripped steel in the dance that was beautiful and lethal all at once.

  Suddenly she stopped. Her horse pulled up with her without the slightest touch or command as if sharing her thoughts and needs. All was dark save for the myriad of tiny pinholes that lit up the sky in a swarm of stars. No sound was heard but that of her horse’s breathing as it stood rock still next to her. Jne’s mind turned inward sealing the doors that had earlier opened to her emotions now leaving only instincts of survival to fill her corridors of thought. An outsider watching would have thought her strange to have stopped so quickly with apparently nothing to impede her way—but she knew. Her hands twitched and she had to mentally force them to remain at her sides instead of reaching instinctively for the swords that were no longer at her back. “I am Jinghar,” she suddenly announced to the night.

  “Then you are nothing,” a voice responded in the grass not ten feet in front of her. Suddenly bodies seemed to rise from the very ground as four Tjal warriors rose out of the grass, eight swords at the ready to cut her down at the slightest provocation. The one who spoke approached, sheathing his swords as he did so.

  “You risk all coming here, Jinghar,” he said, the last word spoken as if by merely pronouncing it left a horrid taste in his mouth. “You know the law.” Jne simply nodded and closed her eyes as the hilt end of a sword crashed deftly against the base of her skull rendering her instantly unconscious.

  * * *

  She woke with a terrible headache, her mind slightly swimming from the knock she’d taken to the back of her skull. It was what she’d expected, though that didn’t lessen the pain any. Instinctively she tried to raise a hand to the spot to feel for injury but was unable finding both of her arms stretched out to either side and chained to a wall. This too, she’d expected but still her face flushed, not in anger but in shame. To be chained in such a manner was one of the ultimate dishonors to place on a Tjal-Dihn. Such incarceration was to openly declare one as not trusted; one without honor; a liar and deceiver. To even hint such a thing to a Tjal would invite instant retribution from the edge of a sword. But Jne was no longer Tjal. She had been labeled Jinghar and though her debt to Thane might have already been paid, she still owed those who once were her people.

  Slowly opening her eyes, she took in the tiny cell that was now her home. It was rectangular, made of smooth stone and was no taller than half her height. In her current sitting position the ceiling was a mere inch above her head. Her arms were stretched out to either side and held against the wall with shackles. Her legs were crossed in front of her leaving only a few inches to the other wall so that she would not be able to stretch them out. To her right was a tiny slit that let in air and a small sliver of light telling her it was daytime. On her left was a steel bared door that completely covered the opening and the only way in or out. She could just make out the form of a guard posted, the sight of his head and shoulders revealing that she was at least not on the bottom compartment of what she knew to be a multilevel cell block. Though she was seen as one without honor or place in Tjal society, the bottom cell was strictly reserved for those who took innocent blood and awaited execution in the most horrific and ignominious manners.

  The fact that she was guarded was another sign of disgrace as if she did not have the integrity to accept responsibility for herself. It was almost more than she could tolerate as the marks of dishonor bit deeply into her pride. For any Tjal-Dihn, death in its most terrifying or painful manner was preferable to losing ones honor. How ironic that the man she loved was the one to place her here. But she held no malice. She had come voluntarily, knowing full well what awaited her as she did so. And it was still not over. Soon she would be free or dead and either was preferable to her current state.

  “I request an obed’ah,” she spoke to the back of the guard’s head. Though he didn’t move or acknowledge hearing her, Jne did not speak again knowing that to do so would weigh even more dishonor upon her already shattered state. She knew that she’d spoken loud enough to be heard and for the rest of the time she was caged she would not speak again. It was the last morsel of dignity she still retained and she refused to allow it to be stripped away with the rest.

  The minutes slowly bled into hours and she watched as the blade of light from her “window” crept along the floor and up the wall until it was almost completely snuffed out. The door then opened and she took an involuntary breath of hope that she would be led out to her requested judgment, but instead, a small plate of food and a tiny cup of water were placed just inside her cell. The door closed but she was still unable to move her arms to reach her rations. Would they taunt her in starvation as well? Suddenly she felt slack in the chains that bound her and she realized that someone had released a mechanism on the other side of the wall at her back that allowed her to move her arms forward. Taking advantage of the slack, she first spread out her legs to one side relieving the cramps that had painfully formed in her joints as she had been forced to sit cross-legged for so long. Rubbing them frantically with her freed hands she did her best to massage away the ache.

  It was long, slow minutes before she finally turned her attention to her food but when she reached out for the plate the chains were suddenly pulled back. In a moment of desperation she resisted, trying to get to her rations, but the chains continued to recede pulling her arms back as they did so. She wanted to call out that she’d not been able to eat yet, but knew that to do so would only further dishonor her so she remained silent and hungry. She would eat tomorrow.

  The guard opened the door again and retrieved her plate and cup without the slightest look of surprise that nothing had been touched. Jne could only guess that many a Tjal chose death by starvation over the humiliation of being caged and that untouched food was more the norm than the exception. But she had no such thoughts. All she could think of was the task she’d accepted and whether it cost her her life to fulfill it she would complete her charge or die in the attempt.

  Pulling her legs back as best she could she drew them u
p in front of her so her knees created a type of a table on which to rest her head. Ignoring the grinding emptiness in her stomach she tried to sleep but was only able to catch a few fleeting glimpses of the dream world as she was constantly awakened by her growling stomach or a sharp cramp. Night seemed to hold its grip against morning for an extended period of time before finally letting go its grasp and allowing the sun to rise once more. She hadn’t slept hardly at all but comforted herself in the knowledge that her breakfast would come soon and that nothing would keep her from sleeping during the day should she get comfortable enough or exhaustion mercifully overtake her.

  This time when her meal arrived and the chains were loosed she wasted no time in devouring the small portion on her plate and then quickly draining the cup. A small, empty bucket had also been left for personal relief that was no easy task. She was just finishing when the chains were pulled taut again.

  Minutes passed slowly into hours that dragged into days that eventually reached a week with no change to her situation. She could now tell by the sliver of light and its position on the floor and wall when her meals would come. Though still not accustomed or comfortable with the cramped space of her confinement, she was able to finally sleep an hour straight at a time before having to move into a different position. Her body ached to be free and to move about to the point that it took all of her mental concentration to not cry out for pity and death. So far she had been able to hold onto her honor in at least that area but she wasn’t certain how much longer she could hold out.