by Sidney Wood
Chapter Thirteen
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Chase took another sip of warm, stale water as he watched a gimp making his way up the goat path through the scree field. The heat was oppressive, but his water was limited, and he rationed his sips. He tried wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm, but it was just as wet. He sighed.
He was tucked away, hidden within the shadow of a gendarme; a large boulder jutting out on top of the ridge forcing a route around rather than over. He watched as Gimpy paused briefly, resting on his downward heel as he had every few steps since reaching the steepest part of the ascent. Even so, his pace was impressive.
“Who is he and why is he here?” Chase wondered. If he hadn’t stopped to take refuge in the shadow before traversing the ridge, he would not know he was being followed. Now that he knew, he had a decision to make.
His hand unconsciously found its way to the knife on his belt. Gimpy didn’t look like too much trouble, but the way he was moving and the way he kept looking over his shoulder, told Chase that trouble was probably close behind.
“So there it is. He’s not following me. He’s running from something. Well…I don’t want his trouble.” With that, he pulled out his knife and stood up. He walked confidently to the top of the goat trail, looking down on Gimpy without any cover or concealment. “SHOVE OFF!” He shouted down. The cripple looked up at him for a moment, during a pause, and continued up without any show of concern.
Chase watched the man hobble up the hill from above.“Ok, the hard way,” he thought, and he looked about himself, trying to memorize the terrain to avoid any missteps or trips when things got physical. Chase looked back down the hill and stared at Gimpy as he pushed tirelessly up the hill, step after step after step. As the distance between them shrunk, Chase couldn’t help but notice a familiarity about the man. He couldn’t place him, but he was sure he had seen him somewhere before. When he was only 20 or 30 paces from the top, the man looked up again, and Chase froze.
A shock like nothing Chase had ever felt suddenly slammed into him, nearly knocking him to the ground.
“Impossible,” he said aloud, as he took an unsteady step back.
Guy paused and looked up at the man standing in his way at the top. He weighed his options briefly. “Well, I’m not turning back now,” he resolved, and he stepped off again.
Close to the top, Guy paused and looked up again. The dangerous looking man above stumbled back uncertainly. Guy watched him closely as he continued forward. He was simply too tired to do anything but get to the top of the hill.
Things started getting really uncomfortable for Guy as he reached the top. He was completely exhausted and just wanted to rest, but the man ahead was looking more unstable as he approached. Guy hesitated and stared at him, trying to determine if it was safe to walk past. He looked straight ahead, beyond the stranger and squared his shoulders. He held his breath and walked forward.
“Don’t stab me. Don’t stab me. Don’t stab me,” Guy repeated to himself as he walked past the man who continued to stare at him strangely. Guy just wanted to get through the pass and leave the man long behind him. The muscles in his good leg and both hips burned for oxygen and rest, but he pushed on.
As he walked northward along the ridge, he heard a single word spoken, just above a whisper.
It was his name.
Guy froze. “Slap your sister…this can’t be good.” He slowly turned around.
The young stranger was standing still, facing him at the top of the goat trail. He was obviously a soldier of some kind. His shoulders were broad and his body was covered in hard muscle, with scars along his outer arms. Something about his face triggered Guy’s memory and a wave of familiarity rushed over him. He blinked. A lump rose in his throat as he tried to say the name that suddenly came to his lips and he choked. He swallowed and said it out loud.
“Chase.”
He said it louder, “Chase!”
Tears erupted from his eyes, blinding him as he overcame disbelief and acknowledged that his little brother was alive.
He wiped his eyes clear and quickly walked with his awkward gait toward his resurrected brother. Suddenly, he was not alone in the world. He had family. He was…
Chase’s fist caught him square in the chin, knocking him out cold.
Guy was lying on his side when he regained consciousness. He tried to get up, but only managed to roll onto his face. “Ouch!” He said aloud, realizing his hands were tied behind his back. He squirmed with some difficulty to his knees and looked about. Chase was sitting on a rock a few paces away looking at him suspiciously.
“Hey little brother, cut me loose. What is this?”
Chase continued looking at him without speaking.
“Damn it!” cursed Guy, and he looked away angrily.
Finally, Chase stood up and moved directly in front of Guy. He squatted down, leaned forward, and looked him in the eyes, searching for something. After several moments of silence, he growled, “Why didn’t you come back if you were alive?”
“Why didn’t I just come back?” Guy asked incredulously. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess it didn’t occur to me! Or maybe, MAYBE! I WAS CAPTURED BY PIRATES AND HELD CAPTIVE FOR THE LAST 12 BLOODY YEARS!” He lunged forward, trying to head butt his brother.
Chase reeled back and with one hand used Guy’s momentum to push himself out of the way. Guy followed through with a fantastic face plant into the ground.
“Slap your sister!” Guy spit. A clod of dirt sprayed from his mouth.
Chase fell back laughing. He laughed so hard, he had trouble getting back up to help his brother. “Fair enough,” he said, when he finally got to his feet. He cut Guy loose and returned to his rock to sit down.
Chapter Fourteen
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Guy held perfectly still as a big, ugly man walked past the group of alders he hid amongst. “That is the most god-awful hat I have ever seen.” He thought. The hat was perched atop a tall, pale man with huge hands and stringy, oil black hair. He looked like a walking corpse. He looked like Death. The thought sent shivers up Guy’s spine.
Death stopped and appeared to listen. He stood silently, taking in the sounds of the forest. Guy could see his bony shoulders rise and chin lift slightly as he sniffed the air.
Guy held his breath, thinking of his own odor. He hoped like hell, he didn’t smell a bad as he thought.
He watched silently as Death and his ugly hat resumed plodding on through the high altitude forest, which lay within the hidden valley, atop a false pass in the Northern Mountains.
Guy was about to move when a giant warrior walked by with a huge axe resting on his shoulder. A third warrior, an older axeman, walked by soon after. Guy was forced to wait longer as four more dangerous looking men passed by and on through the forest.
When the sounds of the last men faded into the forest ahead of him, Guy turned and ran as quickly as his false leg would allow, back toward Chase and the camp they had been living in the past week. “Little brother,” He said quietly as he approached. He had learned over the past few days that his brother was wired for battle, always ready. “Chase!” He hissed as he stepped into the makeshift camp.
Chase stepped out of the shadows and tucked his knife back into his belt. “What is it?”
“A whole lot of ugly just passed by on their way up the valley. It looks like they’re headed toward that homestead we saw the other day.” He saw the look in his brother’s eyes and said, “Chase, there were seven of them, all bigger than you, and armed to the teeth.”
“We need weapons. If they have weapons, we should take some.” Chase stated matter-of-factly.
“I don’t think you heard me. I said there are SEVEN of them, and I didn’t even tell you about the leader. That guy looks plain evil. And trust me, I’ve seen evil. This guy is the devil. Don’t get me started about his hat.”
“What? What does a hat hav
e to do with anything? Guy, I’m not suggesting we take them on in force. We can weed them out one at a time if we’re smart about it. At the very least we can help those people by evening the odds a little. Sometimes, just throwing some confusion into a situation will change a sure outcome to…something else.”
“We don’t have much time. Now tell me everything you can remember about them.”
An hour later, Guy struggled to climb the hill on the opposite side of the valley. He was breathing hard and moving as fast as he could. He made his way above the tree line for the third time and set to work lighting another fire. As sparks set fire to the tuft of wool, he added bark and twigs. Soon the dry tinder was alight, and he added a few larger sticks. He topped those with a green conifer branch, creating thick white smoke. He scurried back down into the trees and hurried ahead to repeat the process farther up the valley.
On the opposite side of the valley, two of Death’s crew were lumbering through the forest. “Hey, Skinny. What do you make of that?” said the first man. He stood, staring into the distance and pointed across the valley. Several spirals of smoke were winding into the air above the tree line. He looked at Skinny to see if he saw them too.
The enormous man who answered to “Skinny” was sweating profusely and not amused by anything that made him fall farther behind the others. At least they weren’t climbing any more. That had been brutal to say the least. If it hadn’t been for a very healthy fear of his boss, he would have given up miles ago.
“What are you talking about?” He grumbled, and he looked in the direction the smaller man was pointing. “What is tha..” He started to say, but couldn’t finish.
The smaller man, still staring at the smoke, heard the sickening crunch of metal slamming into bone. He turned just in time to see a steel blade protruding from Skinny’s mouth as another slammed through his own eye socket and into his brain.
Both men fell to the ground without a word. Chase pulled the knives free and cut each man’s throat for good measure before stripping their weapons and disappearing back into the forest.
Chase ran hard. He wrapped the swords and knives in his shirt to quiet them from rattling, but he still felt as if he was creating too much noise. No matter, he had to beat the others to the homestead. He shoved the fatigue and uncertainty he felt down deep inside and ran on, faster.
Intermittently, he stopped and took the time to look, listen, and smell for the enemy. It was a skill he had learned during the grueling campaigns he marched in for the King. Knowing your enemy’s position before he knows yours gives a distinct advantage in any battle. Chase saw nothing but still forest. He heard nothing but his own labored breathing and blood pounding in his ears. He smelled and tasted blood, but that was also from exertion and possibly the business of gathering weapons.
He ran on.
On the other side of the Valley, Guy was racing as well. He worked his way down onto the valley floor where the footing was more certain, and he pushed himself harder than ever. The hitch in his gait was imperfect, and he was not fast by any measure, but his will was iron. He stumbled and fell often. He jumped up and ran on, ignoring the cuts and bruises, the pain and frustration. As he ran, he thought of Gretchen. He thought of what those men would do to the young girl they had seen at the homestead. Gretchen was about her age when they first met.
Guy felt panic surge up inside of him for the girl and he quickened his pace. He turned the fear into fuel, anger, and strength, and he pressed on.
Chapter Fifteen
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Seth! You’d better take a look at this, said Lynn, as he squinted toward the western wall of the valley. In the past hour and a half, several small fires were started, above the tree line. Whoever was doing it wanted them to be seen, and more importantly, was steadily moving this way.
Seth walked calmly from the house and climbed the ladder next to the wood pile. He stepped up onto the shed roof with a grunt and looked in the same direction.
“Well now,” He muttered, in his gravelly voice. “That can’t be good.”
Lynn scanned the rest of the valley again. “It has to be a diversion of some kind,” he reasoned. He visually searched near and far for any sign of movement in the forest. “Now would be a good time to break out the welcome wagon.”
Seth turned and faced north toward the mountain behind them, scanning the rear half of his property. He grunted agreement and started back down the ladder. When he reached the ground he moved with more urgency, but he still didn’t run. A Sergeant Major doesn’t run, even under fire.
Lynn watched the old Sergeant Major walk back into the house, and then he turned back toward the valley. Just then he caught movement in the forest to the east. He grabbed the handle of the axe he carried with him, and worked the grip as he continued scanning. He saw one man, running fast, carrying a bundle in his arms. He cleared the trees and was running straight toward the house where Seth and Charity were.
“I don’t think so, son.” Lynn said. He swung over the edge of the roof and dropped to the ground with a grunt.
Lynn heard a low growl from inside the wood shed. The mother dog sensed danger to her pups. He confirmed the shed door was shut and turned back toward the house. He swung the axe back and forth a couple of times to feel the weight and set off to intercept the runner.
“That’s far enough!” He heard Seth shout from inside the house as he passed the corner. He slid to a stop in the dusty soil unsure if Seth was talking to him or the runner. The other man had stopped as well and his eyes were fixed on a drop door in the wall of the house Lynn had not seen opened before. Protruding from the opening was the distinct curve of a loaded crossbow arm and its deadly bolt.
“Don’t shoot! I’m here to help!” The man shouted back at the house. “There isn’t much time. They’re almost here!”
Lynn eyed the man carefully. He could tell he was looking at a professional soldier. The man was drenched in sweat, breathing hard, and carrying a bundle of weapons. His back was straight and his eyes were sharp. “An officer maybe.” He guessed.
“Who are you?” The Sergeant Major yelled.
“We’re wasting time!” Chase shouted back sharply. Realizing he wasn’t going to win the argument, he said, “I’m Lieutenant Chase Martin, King’s Royal Guard. I recently escaped a rebel camp and found my way to your valley. This morning, my brother and I saw seven armed men heading this way. They did not look friendly.” He gestured to the west. “You may have seen some smoke earlier? That was my brother, getting their attention while I did some…resource collecting.” And he held up the weapons for emphasis. “There are only five of them now.”
Lynn walked forward with the axe still held in front of him. When he was within five paces he stopped and lowered the axe. “Where is your brother now?” He asked.
Chase shrugged, “He is coming up the western side of the valley, but he only has one leg, so he’s going to be a while.”
“What?” yelled the Sergeant Major. “On one stinking leg? Well how the hell did he do all of that if he only has one leg?”
“Seth, I think we have more important things to consider.” said Lynn. He stepped forward and offered his hand to Chase. “Lieutenant, I’m Lynn Hayes and this is Seth Butcher. We appreciate the warning and your help.”
Chase looked shocked as he shook Lynn’s hand. “Sergeant Lynn Hayes?” He asked.
“Yeah, I used to be.” He acknowledged. “Why?”
Chase chuckled and grinned. “Let’s just say I feel better about our odds all of the sudden.
Chapter Sixteen
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Guy was stuck.
He took a chance and followed a game trail to move faster through the forest, but saving time ran him directly into the gang. He was right in the middle of them before he saw them and now all he could do was hold still and pray.
The taller, younger axeman was ahead of him and the older one, head do
wn, was coming up on him now. He was only a few paces away, and Guy hoped he would walk right past him. Guy tried to become as small as possible, hoping for some kind of miracle. He pulled his knife and held his breath.
He no longer heard the men ahead, just the older axeman, crunching ever closer, not even trying to be quiet. That meant there were two more behind him somewhere, and they couldn’t be far behind. Ever closer, he heard him coming. Then, just as the old man reached the tree, the noise stopped.
“What in blazes is this?” Guy heard the old grizzled man say. “Aren’t we pretty?” The axeman said with a grunt as he very audibly bent over to look at something.
“Pretty?” Thought Guy? “Are you serious?” And unable to stop himself he peered around the tree. There, he saw the grizzled old axeman, grinning euphorically and bent full over, smelling a wild yellow and orange flower with his eyes closed. Guy’s eyes darted beyond the old man and to either side, and then, without hesitation, he took one step out from the tree and stabbed deep into the pocket between the grizzled neck and shoulder. In desperation he continued stabbing until the man fell to the ground. Blood sprayed out in great bursts and sucking noises filled his ears. His heart was pounding like thunder as he suddenly remembered the others that must be close. He fell flat, on top of the body, and froze. He looked up, straining to hear anything above his own heartbeat and ragged breath. He saw movement in the trees off to the left.
“Slap your sister!” he thought, and he hugged the old man tightly, trying to be invisible.
“Hurry up Brick!” growled a hairy beast of a man as he lumbered through the forest. “We’re falling behind! Forget those two. If they don’t catch up that’s their problem.”
Brick, who looked more like a sapling, was pacing him, farther to the left, and gave no indication he had heard him say anything. Guy thought the moniker may have spoken to his mental capacity rather than his physical build. Both men were completely focused on moving fast, and didn’t notice to gory scene only a few paces to their own left as they ran by. Guy let out a huge sigh and slowly stood up.
