by Jeff Gunzel
The old man spun back to face him, eyes hard as steel. “Do not mistake wisdom for paranoia,” Yuznal warned. “I assure you they are vastly different. Now that your leader has betrayed our village, her responsibilities have fallen to me. And I do not, will not, take that duty lightly.”
The old man rubbed his arms with a shiver. It was unclear if he was only now noticing the unseasonable chill, or if it was something else entirely. “Can you not feel the taint in the air?” Tarrins glanced at one another while trying not to make it too obvious. What was he talking about? Was the old man losing his mind? “It’s like a foul scent that can’t be washed away.”
“I think that’s enough of this sort of talk for one morning,” said one woman. She hurried to her feet and attempted to clear the table. Anything to break this awful tension.
“And that is why I had no choice,” he went on, ignoring the woman’s attempts to calm the mood. “Drastic measures had to be taken.”
“Drastic measures?” came several echoed replies to his cryptic statement.
“What are you talking about?”
“Yuznal, what are you trying to say?”
“I think he has lost his mind.”
“It is not I who has lost his mind,” Yuznal responded, waving away their overreactions. “But rather the village as a whole. You ask me to turn a blind eye to a traitor, as well as those who defend that traitor. But I cannot do that. The village of Eldham was once pure and uncorrupted, and with Odao as my witness, I shall live to see it that way once more.”
Knocking his thin fingers on the table, the tree line around them began to rustle. Heads turned this way and that as the large figures began closing in. Led by Narkural himself, several nezzerians made their way to the table, each taking up positions around them.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Lotray said, lunging back up to his feet. But a pair of heavy hands slammed on his shoulders, forcing him back down. “Why would you bring the nezzerians to this sacred ground?” he coughed, winded, but still able to push out the words.
“Why did I bring them here?” Yuznal repeated in a mockingly innocent tone. “Why, you’ve left me no choice in the matter. You might as well have brought them here yourself.”
“The world is much larger than your fly speck of a village,” Narkural rumbled, leaning over the top of Lotray to give him an upside down glare. “But I agree with you on one point. We would not even be here if these lands were not sacred in some way. The energy produced by this village alone is many times that of most human cities twice its size. The village of Eldham has long been an intricate part of the balance, and yet now that flow of energy is in danger of being disrupted. This, I cannot allow.”
Most of the tarrins leaned forward in their seats, trying to further distance themselves from the menacing giants looming at their backs. But a few gave in to their anger and tried to shove them back. Pushing back mountains would have proved to be an easier task.
“For years Assirra allowed this corruption to thrive right under her nose,” Yuznal said. “Whether she was just ignorant of it or the very source itself, I shall never know. But those days are over. Our village was once pure, our people untainted. But over the years I have stood by and watched our people unravel like a dying blossom. In order to thrive as we once did, we must rebuild ourselves from the ground up. It is time to return once again to the old ways, a time of innocence, a time when Odao was loved and respected by all.
“And that time starts now. Let the cleansing begin!”
Yuznal began the process of pointing out certain individuals. Slowly, methodically, he wanted to make certain he held their stunned gazes for a time before moving on to the next.
Seconds later the marked men and women were lifted from their seats like small children. Some showed no resistance, their vacant stares watching the table move away as their feet dragged across the grass. Others clawed desperately at the person seated next to them, begging for help that would not come.
After watching their brothers and sisters get dragged away like old sacks, the remaining tarrins sat in obedient silence. The message was heard loud and clear; they would think twice before speaking out again. The whole scene was so surreal. Was this really happening? Surely they would wake up in their beds and laugh at the absurd dream.
“I take no joy from these extreme measures,” Yuznal assured those remaining, although his thin smile appeared to reveal otherwise. “Those sinners must now walk the path they chose. Praise Odao.” A few echoed his praise back, a garbled, halfhearted whisper. “Praise Odao!” he repeated, his finger rising up in front of his face as if he might be considering a second round of accusations.
“Praise Odao!” came the unified chant.
“Yes, praise him indeed,” he muttered under his breath before stepping closer to the table. “The rest of you had better decide where your loyalties lie, with your god and savior, or with the traitor who has abandoned us all.”
*
The rest of the day played out like a long dream. Gardens were tended, chores were completed on schedule, but none of it felt real as they went through the motions. Tarrins moved about the village, afraid to speak with one another for fear of being accused of witchcraft, or possibly some other dark plot. Even meeting the gaze of another tarrin felt forbidden even though no such rule existed...yet. The usual sound of light gossip and singing had been replaced with deafening silence. It was as if they were prisoners in their own homes.
Nightfall couldn’t come soon enough.
*
The starry sky brought with it a sense of peace and relief. This horrible day had finally come to an end. Few were likely to find sleep this night, but at least they could embrace the solitude and think about what might be.
Eyes wide open, the tarrin lay on his hammock. Pushing off with his foot every so often to keep it rocking, Grydrin played out the day’s events again and again in his head. What had happened here today? Would they ever know another peaceful night’s sleep? Perhaps, but it would not be anytime soon, and certainly not this night.
Pressing the ball of his foot into the floor, he stopped his hammock from swinging and sat up. “It’s time,” he whispered to no one. Rolling from the hammock as quietly as he could, he tiptoed across the room and glanced outside. Darkness... Taking a deep breath, he slid a handheld mirror off a nearby desk. Slipping it past the string of beads across the doorway, he slowly tipped it forward and back a few times. Retracting the mirror after just a few seconds, he waited. And waited. Nothing.
A drop of sweat ran from his temple as he tried to slow his breathing and concentrate. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Something was wrong. Someone should have seen it by now. Something was–
And then it came, a set of return flashes from a nearby tree hut. A moment later another came from across the way, two quick flashes before it was gone. Then came another, and another. Grydrin’s breath released in a rush. Wiping his hand across his forehead, he removed a ridiculous amount of sweat given how cool the night was.
Slipping past the strings of beads, he stood out on the platform. The low light of the night sky barely revealed the shadows moving about him. Desperate to communicate but not daring to speak, the shadows moved their way down adjacent stairways from various areas around the village.
Every now and then a step creaked and the shadows all stopped at once. Mere seconds felt like an eternity before one was brave enough to start moving again. After a painstakingly slow journey down the winding steps, at least two dozen tarrins surrounded him on the ground level.
Do you have them? he mouthed silently to the woman standing across from him. Eyes wide with fright, she nodded vigorously before holding up a set of copper keys. Several around her sighed with relief. Had she not managed to swipe the keys, this task would have been over before it started.
Flashing a quick smile, he gestured back toward the tree line on the far side and she scurried off. Tapping four more tarrins on the chest, he poi
nted two fingers at his eyes, and then up to the houses above. With a nod, they began taking up positions around the different stairways to keep watch for anyone coming.
Trapped in small cages used to store wild game for trade, the tarrin prisoners sat hunched and bent in unnatural positions. Knees up by their ears, heads tilted to the side, simply breathing was uncomfortable at best.
“What are you doing?” one of the tarrins asked in a raspy whisper, shifting in her cage to try and get a clearer look at her would-be rescuer. “Go back before they see you. Why would you risk yourselves like this?”
“Because you have done nothing wrong,” the woman stated plainly while fiddling with one of the keys. “I don’t know what has become of Assirra, but I know she would have never let this happen. Yuznal will pay for this.”
“Hurry,” said Grydrin, rapidly tapping the back of her shoulder.
“Why, what do you see?”
“Just hurry.”
When the first lock fell to the ground, she turned to see his eyes locked on the watchers who were waving their hands frantically. But their warnings didn’t really matter at this point. They were committed, and it was too late to turn back now. The woman in the cage rolled out onto the grass and the others began grabbing keys off the ring. The woman wanted to help but could barely even stand. It would take a minute or two to get circulation back through her legs so they could function, a minute they simply didn’t have to spare.
“What is going on down there? What are you doing?” came Yuznal’s all too familiar voice. Lanterns flared to life as mumbled voices soon turned into calls of alarm. Clutching a swinging lantern, Yuznal was already moving his way down the steps.
But the old man was not the immediate threat they were most concerned with. A tent flap ripped open from across the way, and out stepped a very angry-looking nezzerian. Searching for the source of the disturbance that had interrupted his sleep, it didn’t take Narkural long to spot the traitors standing near opened cages. His expression quickly changed from one of annoyed confusion to burning rage.
With the escape plan falling apart right before their eyes, the tarrins watching the steps abandoned their posts and went running for the forest. Grydrin glanced over his shoulder. More cages were being opened while other tarrins fumbled with the keys, often dropping them in the grass. It was taking too long... Glancing back the other way, he saw the formidable giant rumbling towards them.
They need more time. “And that is what I shall give them,” he whispered under his breath.
Legs moving before he had time to think, he went charging straight toward the rushing giant. He could faintly hear the urgent screams of his brothers and sisters from behind, but it was too late to stop now. Did they really not understand what he was trying to do? No, this was not a fight he could win. He knew that. One life sacrificed for the lives of many, how could anyone not see the logic in that? It was an easy choice.
Much bigger than an average human, the tarrin looked outright puny compared to the nezzerian. Crashing into his chest, the full-force charge managed to stop Narkural’s momentum for an instant, but little else.
Showing little regard for the annoying tarrin, the nezzerian clubbed the top of his shoulders with two heavy fists. The tarrin’s grip loosened instantly, and a rising knee to his chest completed the separation, sending the man reeling to the side. The giant had no time for this, otherwise he would have finished him off right there and then.
The last cage door popped open and out rolled the remaining tarrin. Legs severely cramped, two brothers grabbed his wrists and began dragging him across the grass. Unable to even give him even a second or two to recover, they needed to move now! Tarrins bolted into the forest, many with others slung over their shoulders like sacks. The cover of the trees would at least give them a fighting chance.
Livid, Narkural tried to give chase once again, but three steps was as far as he got. Knees buckling under the sudden weight on his back, he roared as a line of fire streaked across his eye. Clinging to the giant’s back, the tarrin reached around and clawed at his face like an animal. Reaching back over his shoulder, Narkural grabbed him by the horn and flipped Grydrin over his front, sending him crashing onto the ground.
A wave of agony exploded through Grydrin’s body as his lungs expelled all their precious air at once. Paralyzed from the jarring blow, a second wave of agony ripped through his arm when Narkural drove his fist down into his shoulder. The sheer force was beyond anything the tarrin had ever felt. Bones crunching like dry twigs, he would have screamed had his lungs had any air left to offer.
Narkural looked up just in time to see the last set of tarrins dart into the forest, each shouldering the weight of one of their sisters. If they were to just abandon the woman right there, they could easily still get away in time. But Narkural knew they wouldn’t. Again with that strange loyalty these creatures had for one another. Because of that, Narkural would at least catch these three just as soon as he—
Feeling something clamp down on his shin, he looked down at the wounded tarrin with his one good arm wrapped tightly around his ankle.
Impossible...
Seeking only to break through the one-armed grasp, Narkural ripped his leg forward with all his strength. Expecting to be free so he could at last begin his pursuit, he was stunned to still feel the weight on his foot. Again he hopped forward, and again Grydrin’s entire body slid along the grass without letting go. Hanging on with everything he had, the tarrin’s cloudy mind could only focus on one thing. Buy them a few more seconds. Don’t let go. Don’t let go...
After the fourth failed attempt to break free, Narkural glanced up at the empty cages. They had escaped, and it was all due to this stubborn creature still holding on to him. Roaring in frustration, he snatched the tarrin up by the neck. Thick fingernails digging deep into his flesh, the fading tarrin exposed his bloodstained teeth in a triumphant grin. “You’re too late,” he said, the garbled words bubbling past his bloody lips. “You’ll never catch them now.”
Holding the limp being up in the air with one arm, Narkural gave him a sideways look. “You will not live long enough to regret your betrayal.” With a twist of his wrist, the tarrin’s head cracked to one side. Glassy eyes half open, his smile still remained intact as a timeless reminder that he had done exactly what he set out to do.
Allowing the limp neck to slip past his fingers, the body folded into a contorted pile at his feet. Narkural looked around as other nezzerians began gathering around him. “Nothing has been lost,” he was quick to point out. “Those that escaped contributed nothing to the energies here. That much we knew already. Whether they were executed for their treachery, or fled to the seas, means little to the balance. Either way, no energy was gained or lost, so it does not matter. Their escape is nothing more than a neutral exchange of little consequence.” The others nodded their agreement.
And so it was, the emotionless reaction of a nezzerian who valued and protected the balance above all things. Removing these tarrins from the village was never a personal decision or an act of cruelty in their eyes. It made no difference whether they were dead or on the run, as long as their poisonous mentalities had been removed from these sacred grounds.
Yuznal, on the other hand, did not view the escape as being quite so harmless. Livid, the old man stormed around in circles shouting profanities, a rare display of emotion indeed. Their escape not only made him look weak in the eyes of the villagers, but he also lost his chance at making a stern example out of them in a very public way.
The price for disobeying his rule and turning their backs on Odao was death, and everyone needed to see that with their own eyes. Unlike Narkural, who simply believed he was serving a higher cause, Yuznal had a personal stake in all this.
No one made a fool of the High Cleric. They would pay for this.
*
Running through the forest, it was impossible to say how much time had passed before they finally felt safe enough to stop. If not fo
r the unbearable fatigue, the tarrins would have covered several more miles. With red lines crossing their faces from all the branches and thorns, several of them just lay on their backs, chests rising and falling yet unable to get enough air to feel normal again.
Aside from a bit of soft weeping, the only sound was that of running water from a nearby creek. “They killed him,” one man dared to whisper, which only served to intensify their sobs.
“Yes they did,” another woman said, rising to her feet. “He let them take his life in cold blood so that we could escape. Grydrin’s sacrifice must not be in vain. He alone has given us a chance, and we must not waste it.”
“And what are we supposed to do now?” asked the man kneeling near the creek, wiping his eyes while gazing down at his reflection. “Yuznal has the nezzerians working for him. We can’t possibly take back the village by ourselves.”
“Alone? No we cannot,” she answered. “But this is not a time for fear or shaken faith. We have followed her for years and she has not led us astray.” The man looked away from the creek, nodding his head ever so slightly. “We must find the true High Cleric. She will know what to do.”
Chapter 1
“Kumbly? Kumbly, are you even listening to me?” After a shiver and shake, the young man managed to tear his eyes away from the scene down below. With a sigh, the old man nodded his understanding and clapped him on the shoulder. “I know, lad. I know. Honestly, it’s best not to think about it. Now go on and lay the next stone. The sooner we finish the job, the sooner we can stop thinking about this damn tower and go home.”
“Easier said than done,” Kumbly said. Unable to help himself, he just couldn’t stop staring through the opening in the half-finished wall. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”
“Nobody has,” the old man admitted, looking around at the other workers gazing down from their scaffolds. The scene was indeed mesmerizing, but this constant staring wasn’t going to get this tower built any faster. “But we have never seen anything like those white men, either. Just remember, lad, they may seem strange to us, but they’re on our side. Best you remember that. They just might be the only thing standing between us and our graves.” He smoothed down another layer of mortar. “Now go on, lay the stone,” he practically whispered. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.
