The Gift

by Bryan M. Litfin

  “No. He will abandon your soul to the pit, just as he has already abandoned your body. Look around! The evidence proves it. You will perish on this island, forgotten and alone. Your corpse will lie unburied on these shores. You will be ravaged by me until you decay and the seabirds pick the rotten flesh from your bones. Your life is meaningless! You’re a speck of dust blown away by the wind.” Drake glared at his opponent. “Face it, Anastasia! You are insignificant. No one cares for you—no one at all.”

  “Deu cares for me. That is the truth. I won’t be deterred from it.”

  “He will do nothing for you. He will let you rot. He is powerless to stop it.”

  “You’re full of lies, you snake! Deu is strong.”

  “No,” Drake belted out. “He’s weak. Weak, I tell you!”

  “He is the All-Creator. No one is higher than him. He will have the victory.”

  “What do you make of this then?” Drake reached into a pocket of his leather vest and withdrew the pendant he had removed from Ana’s neck. “Look! The symbol of your God is defeat. What other conclusion can there be?”

  Drake could see that his words made an impact on the woman. She was uncertain about the meaning of the crucified man, and for once she didn’t have a reply. Realizing he had gained the upper hand, Drake decided it was time to act.

  He approached Anastasia with his club in his fist. Power coursed through his veins—a strong, vibrant power that boiled inside him and brought a smile to his lips. “Tell me,” he asked, “if Deu is so strong, why are you about to die? Is he here with you now? Can he stop me? What do you think? Can he?”Drake brandished his club as he walked forward.

  “Get away from me! I reject you and everything you stand for!”

  The woman pointed at Drake in an authoritative way that he found unnerving. Somehow her demeanor was far more confident than it should have been. “My God has spoken to me,” she declared. “Deu has plans for me. He has promised to bring me back from captivity. So get away from me, or be ready to face the judgment of an angry God!”

  “No one shall judge me,” Drake snarled. “I am my own god!”

  He rushed at Ana, but instead of running away she faced him with her back to the sea. He hadn’t expected that. It brought him up short. Ana’s voice rang out in the stillness. “‘The Eternal One is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? The Eternal One is the support of my life. Whom shall I dread? When wicked men advance against me to devour my flesh, my persecutors and enemies will totter and fall.’”

  “Fear me!” Drake demanded, trying to stare her down. She didn’t wilt. The woman’s serenity enraged him. Drake lifted his club above his head. His arms were long and lean and muscular. The weapon in his hand was thick, and the woman standing before him was defenseless. The feel of the club smashing her soft flesh would be a delight. He would bludgeon her into the state of submission he so desperately craved. His arm began to sweep down.

  What happened next reduced Drake to speechlessness. Just as he was about to put Anastasia to death, she slapped him across the face like an old cur dog. A loud smack rang out as her open palm made contact with his jaw. Drake’s head was swatted to the side, and a dollop of drool flew from his lips. His cheek stung as if a hot iron had been laid against it. His ears rang, and his head spun.

  How dare she!

  Confusion boiled up in Drake’s dark soul. An empowering presence was within Anastasia, a force he did not understand. He faltered and lowered his club, stunned that this helpless woman would have the audacity to slap a strong man.

  She isn’t afraid of me!

  It was incomprehensible yet true. The fact disturbed Drake to the core of his being. He backed off and glanced away.

  Something in the ocean caught his eye. A sail had come into view. Pirates! They were approaching rapidly and would soon come ashore to demand an exact accounting of their stores. Rough men, all of them. Cruel and lascivious. The kind of men who could break a woman’s spirit. Shatter it, in fact.

  Drake shoved Anastasia to the ground and pounded a stake through her leg chain with his club. “Those men will teach you some respect!” he spat, then hurried to meet the visitors.

  Ana watched Drake light two torches and wave them back and forth on the beach. At this signal the pirates lowered rowboats and began to come ashore. They were swarthy men with thick beards and high boots. Evidently their recent plundering had been successful, for their clothing and adornments were finer than what the average sailor could expect to own. Ana reached for the iron stake that had been driven through her chain, trying to work it loose with her fingers. She knew she needed to get out of sight—fast.

  The captain of the pirates greeted Drake with a gruff hello. Another man stood next to the captain with a ledger book in his hand. He conferred with Drake about the book, then everyone scurried toward the ruined monastery. A clump of boulders and some scrubby bushes stood between Ana and the men. She hunched behind them as she examined the stake. It was driven deep into the earth and resisted removal.

  A crew of burly pirates filed out of the monastery carrying sacks and barrels like ants stealing crumbs at a picnic. After loading the supplies into the boats, Drake opened a crate and began to haggle with the men on the beach. He held up jars of golden honey and bartered vigorously. The pirates also inspected small objects and draped pendants around their necks. Drake exchanged some coins with the men.

  Ana looked down at the stake with rising anxiety. She tried to push it back and forth to loosen the hole. The stake hardly budged. Normally Drake had to pry it out. She glanced up at the pirates. What she saw made her heart leap into her throat.

  Drake was pointing at her, and all the men were staring in her direction. The captain began to march over. Ana did not like the smirk on his face. She had seen that look many times in the eyes of men, and it always meant one thing. She furiously wiggled the stake as the pirates drew near. In the distance thunder rumbled. A cloudburst was moving in.

  “Stand up, wench,” the captain ordered.

  When Ana did not comply, Drake hauled her up by the elbow. Ana felt self-conscious before all the lecherous stares. Her ragged sackcloth garment barely fell below her hips, and much of her body could be seen through the holes. She gathered the rough fabric at her neckline, crossing her forearms in front of herself.

  “You see?” Drake said. “I told you she was pretty.”

  “She’s filthy,” the captain countered. “Eight scudi.”

  Drake frowned. “Give her a bath if you need to. I’m sure you could find a man to do it.” Coarse jesting erupted from the onlookers. “The rental fee is nine scudi, no less,” Drake insisted. “Use her up and bring me whatever is left when you return.”

  The captain stepped closer to Drake. “What if I decide to take her without paying?”

  Though the captain’s tone was aggressive, Drake did not back down. He slipped a dank lock of hair from his forehead with a bony finger. “I think you know what would happen. Play dirty with me, Captain, and every pirate in these seas will be after you. The only way my outpost works is if everyone follows the rules. If you break the code, word will get around. You’ll be everyone’s enemy.”

  Turning away from Drake, the captain let his eyes rove over Ana’s figure. He addressed his men while gesturing toward her. “What do you think, boys? Nine scudi for a few weeks of fun! Is it worth it?”

  The rousing cheer was the only answer he needed. Ana’s heart began to race. The captain shook Drake’s hand, then ordered his men back to the ship with oaths and exhortations about their urgent itinerary. As the sailors moved away, Drake lingered behind, picking at a lesion on his forearm. “You’ll have no fight left in you by the time they bring you back,” he whispered in Ana’s ear. She pushed him aside. Drake laughed as he went to the beach to settle the accounts.

  Ana knelt beside the stake and clawed the soil around it. Finally it began to come free. Pulling her leg chain as hard as she could, she managed to slide the stake
from the earth. She stood up, terrified, and glanced around. Now what? Where to?

  Her eyes fell on the ruined fortress on the peninsula. It was the most defensible place anywhere nearby. Ana snatched her encumbering stone and began to lumber down the gravel lane toward the castle, its white ramparts stark against the gray squall advancing over the sea. Though the stone ball was heavy, strength flowed through Ana’s body in her moment of need. She had fled halfway to the fortress when she heard shouting behind her.

  “Where did she go?”

  “There she is! Over there!”

  “I see her! Wait here and I’ll get her!”

  Ana turned to see Drake racing toward her. “Help me, Deu!” she cried as she began to sprint toward the castle, clutching her stone to her chest.

  The interior of the castle was made of rough, eroded stone. Ana entered an enclosed yard. The sky began to spit rain. She scurried across the courtyard and reached a door. As she paused to catch her breath, Drake arrived at the entrance, spotting her immediately. The look on his face was pure evil. Ana gasped and ducked into the doorway.

  She found herself in a room with a vaulted ceiling. In the center of the room, a waist-high wall formed a rectangle around a small round well in the floor. Openings in the wall gave access to the well, which was surrounded by flagstones and covered by an iron grate. The area above the rectangle was open to the sky, giving the room the feel of an atrium. Ponderous raindrops had begun to speckle the floor beneath the skylight. Ana was beside the wall when a voice stopped her in her tracks.

  “What did I tell you, woman? You belong to me!”

  Drake’s venomous words made Ana recoil. She backed around the corner of the wall, keeping an eye on her enemy as he stalked her. He stood at one end of the rectangle and she at the other. Every time he moved one direction, she moved the opposite way. The game of cat and mouse continued as they circled back and forth around the wall. The rain began to fall harder.

  “You can’t keep this up all day,” Drake growled through gritted teeth. He was obviously frustrated, but Ana knew he was right. The stone in her arms was burdensome. Eventually she would tire, and he would grab her. Then the game would be over.

  As Ana moved along the rectangle’s long side, Drake unexpectedly darted through one of the openings in the wall. He flashed across the middle, but his foot slipped on the slick flagstones, and he fell on his face. Without stopping he lunged at Ana. She shrieked as she felt her enemy’s hand close around her ankle. Though she tried to break free, Drake held her fast. Blood streamed from his nose, reddening his gnashing teeth. He yanked her bare foot to his mouth and bit down hard. Agony exploded up Ana’s leg as her enemy’s teeth dug into her flesh. She let out a piercing cry.

  Drake released his bite and looked up at Ana from the floor. He met her eyes with a malicious grin, enjoying the pain he had caused her. At that moment a lightning bolt flashed outside, and a tremendous thunderclap shook the ancient fortress to its foundations.

  Ana grasped her heavy stone in two hands, staring down at Drake. His expression changed. A look of horror flooded his countenance. For a moment everything remained perfectly still.

  “You are defeated,” Ana declared.

  She cast the stone upon Drake’s head, and her enemy was no more.

  CHAPTER

  12

  Teo’s five-day journey from Nuo Genov to Roma was uneventful. A few merchant vessels appeared on the horizon but escaped before the Midnight Glider could engage them. Teo didn’t mind. He was content to do nothing but watch the wooded shores slip by as the clipper ship made its way south.

  Vanita spent most of the trip in Marco’s company, but on the fifth day she approached Teo as he stood at the rail on the main deck. She wore a nice gown and pretty earrings. Though her hair was still short, it had grown out during the past two weeks and was no longer so startling.

  “Roma sure is remote,” she observed.

  “The Likurian sailors think so. They’re scared to go far from home. Most never venture more than a day’s journey away. Only the bravest men sail long distances.”

  “Men like Marco. Brave—or reckless.”

  They stood together in silence, each lost in contemplation. The sun was low in the western sky, its rays turning the coastline a deep russet. After a while Marco noticed the pair and strolled over. Teo turned toward him with a question. “How come there are so few villages around here? It feels like we’ve left civilization behind. I haven’t seen a town since yesterday.”

  Marco nodded. “All the land you see here belongs to Roma. From the sea it looks abandoned, but believe me it’s not. The territory around the city is very productive and has been brought into heavy cultivation.”

  “Peasant farmers?”

  “They work the land, but it’s controlled by the nobility. The richest is a pig named Nikolo Borja.”

  “You’d think there would be other seaports along the coast.”

  “The nobles want everything channeled through the port of Roma. It’s a choke point. All commerce goes through one harbor, and the rich aristocrats grow even richer off taxes and tariffs. Meanwhile the peasants live in squalor and never get to enjoy the goods they work so hard to produce.”

  Teo glanced at Marco, who was grinning in a roguish way. The expression on his face made Teo smile in return. “So, pirate, I guess it’s your job to rob the big men, huh?”

  Marco threw back his head and laughed. “Exactly! And it helps the little guys at the same time. When I capture a ship I sell the cargo for a lot less than it would go for on the open market—and still make 100 percent profit. The pirate business is pretty good work if you can get it.”

  “As long as you don’t get killed,” Vanita said.

  Marco pursed his lips and shrugged. “Violent death is a job hazard I’ve long accepted.”

  The lights of Roma’s harbor twinkled in the deepening twilight when the Midnight Glider reached the end of its journey. Marco ordered the flag of a merchant vessel raised on the ensign staff before entering the port. As soon as the ship was moored, the rough sailors poured onto the docks with a night of debauchery on their minds. Teo, however, had no interest in revelry. He led Vanita to the least seedy inn he could find, hoping it would have rooms decent enough for a lady. The place looked congenial, so he reserved two chambers. In the morning he would hire horses for the trip to Roma, which was situated about twenty-five leagues upriver from the coast. Tilled fields and forests lay between the city and its port.

  Teo and Vanita found a table in a corner of the inn’s common room. The waitress brought foamy mugs and two platters of food, along with a bottle of amber-colored sauce. Tasting it, Teo discovered the flavor was zesty and salty.

  “What’s in that sauce?” Vanita asked the waitress.

  “Fermented fish guts,” she replied. Vanita wrinkled her nose, but Teo laughed and filled a bowl in which to dip his bread.

  The meal passed at a leisurely pace. Teo found Vanita to be an excellent conversationalist, a skill she had no doubt learned as part of her elite upbringing. Gone, however, were all the ribald comments she used to make. Vanita was becoming a different kind of woman. Teo was glad to see it.

  When the platters were empty, Teo called for the bill and brought out a handful of copper coins. As he sorted them in his left palm, the waitress did a double take. She seemed unusually interested in Teo’s counting, then hurried into a back room as soon as she took the payment.

  “Something’s up,” Vanita said, sipping her chicory coffee.

  “Let’s wait and see.” Teo loosened his sword in its scabbard just in case.

  It wasn’t long before a slim young man in a coarse-spun robe approached the table. “Excuse me,” he said. “I have an important matter to discuss with you.” He gestured to an empty chair. “May I sit down?”

  Teo could see the man wasn’t a warrior and posed no threat, so he nodded his assent.

  “Would I be correct in assuming you are Teofil of Chiveis?
” the man asked.

  “Who are you?” Vanita demanded before an answer could be made.

  “Ah, yes, I’m sorry.” He leaned close, beckoning Teo and Vanita to do the same. “I am a servant of Deus,” he whispered. “I’m here on behalf of Ambrosius, the Overseer of the Forbidden Zone. We’ve been keeping an eye on the docks for a visitor who has”—the man glanced down at Teo’s hand—“passed the test.”

  Teo fingered the scar at the base of his thumb from the Overseer’s hammer and nail. He examined the youthful visitor’s face, considering his response before replying. “What does your master seek? The Forbidden Zone is far from here. Roma isn’t within his jurisdiction.”

  “Indeed the Zone is far, but the Overseer isn’t. He has come here at the Papa’s request and awaits you in the city. A private carriage will take you there in the morning if you are willing to accompany me.”

  Teo and Vanita exchanged glances. Events were unfolding rapidly, yet something told Teo they were headed in the right direction. When Vanita offered a confirming nod, Teo accepted the visitor’s invitation. The man thanked them and slipped away, leaving Teo and Vanita alone again.

  “This might be a trick,” Teo said.

  “I don’t think it is. I think it’s the work of your God.”

  Teo inclined his head, acknowledging Vanita’s wise suggestion. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” He stood up and, after a few words with the innkeeper, led Vanita to her room for the night.

  The carriage ride to Roma the next day afforded Teo an excellent opportunity to get his bearings. Approaching Roma from the southwest, he found the city to be much like the Forbidden Zone: a vast metropolis of the Ancients now gone to ruin, with nature having accomplished its inexorable work of reclaiming what had once been an urban area. And yet, unlike the Forbidden Zone, Roma’s cityscape wasn’t entirely decrepit and overgrown. Whereas the Zone’s buildings had fallen into a state of ruin, portions of Roma had been restored—or razed and rebuilt—so that today it was a thriving city once again. While it wasn’t as expansive as it had been in ancient times, a central core bustled and hummed with the lively energy of an industrious population. Crowded tenements, busy marketplaces, public monuments, gushing fountains, even lavish palaces—all were part of the vista Teo encountered as the carriage rolled through the streets of the city that would not die.