“You are dead whether we stay or go. You will all die, unless we fight back.”
“We cannot fight!” the crowd shouted. “We are not warriors! We are peaceful! We will be outmanned and outfought!”
“I will train you,” Father insisted. “I will make warriors out of our men and women.”
“Women cannot fight!”
I stood up. “You don’t know what I have gone through or what I have seen. The soldiers will take you and your children. Your only choice, your only hope, is to train and fight.”
A man with hair as red as Father’s made his way through the crowd. “I will not be a slave. I will fight with you, Bardon.”
Another man followed and another and another. They all began to chant, “Bardon, Bardon.”
Women and children alike pledged to fight.
“We will prevail,” Father assured them. “I would like you to meet my friend, Doc. His looks might scare you, but he’s a good man. He wants this to be his new home, and he will fight for it, but first, we need weapons—bows and swords and tips for arrows.”
Joe the blacksmith did not hesitate. “What you need, you shall have.”
“We don’t have much time,” Father said. “We start training today. We will set up camp in the middle of the village. First, we will eat.”
Father left the crowd with Doc to begin organizing them. He and I went looking for the last of our family, I thought.
“I wonder if Aunt Mary is still alone, Father.”
“She is set in her ways, Noah. I doubt she changed while we were gone.”
Soon we spotted her running towards us. She was short and round, but she had the strong arms of a farmer. She shared Father’s red hair, though she kept it tucked in a bun atop her head.
“My boys!” she yelled as she threw her arms around us. There was nothing like a good bear hug. She held us tight and then let go. “Where is Steven?”
“He is dead. They are all dead, Mary.”
Mary began to cry then wiped her tears and regained her composure. “At least God sent me back you two. We will mourn Steven, but tonight we will celebrate you.”
“Is there any food?” Father asked.
“No,” Mary said. “Food is scarce. Everyone is afraid to leave the village and hunt, and more people come to hide behind the walls each day. Your brother brought meat yesterday, but it was not enough. People have killed for less since you’ve been gone. Nod is not the same place you left, Bardon.”
“It will be again,” he said, “if you can help me.”
“I might be old, and I might be small, but my spirit is as hot as my hair,” Mary joked.
“I see some gray in there,” Father said. “Guess you are cooling down in your old age.”
We all laughed.
“Yes, but watch me move,” Mary said, dancing in a circle. “I still got it.”
“I’m counting on that, Mary. Get the older women ready to cook enough meat for three villages. My friend Doc will help.”
“I will get the fires going.”
Father and I bid Mary goodbye and headed back to the village commons.
“You have another brother, father?” I asked as we walked.
“I’ll tell you later, Noah. We have to get training started.”
At the camp, Father broke down what Journey had taught us. Mara helped the women, and I helped Father with the men. Doc rounded up a group to hunt. When things were running smoothly, Father laid his hand on my shoulder. “Keep training, Noah. I’m going to find us some food.”
As darkness began to fall, Father and his hunters rode back through the gate with deer, rabbits, and pheasants. Their wagons overflowed with prey, wild vegetables, and greens. Doc carted the haul to Aunt Mary’s cottage, and Father took over the training.
“Watch me,” he said. “Come hard with the fist, step into it, grab, roll back, and through, again and again.”
Hours passed and training was hard, but the men, women, and children stayed at it, listening, learning, and becoming warriors.
The dinner bell rang, and our people froze in fear. With the shortage of food, the dinner bell only rang to announce danger or disaster, but today it was used as intended – to bring people to the tables to break bread and nourish their bodies.
“Relax,” I said. “It’s dinnertime.”
The crowd cheered and hurried to find seats at the rows of tables.
Doc brought pot after pot of meat and vegetables.
Mary nudged him. “I told you before to stay out of my way. A man who cooks! Whoever heard of such a thing?”
Doc just sighed.
“Bardon, I made you a special dish,” Mary said, placing a steaming bowl in front of Father, tossing what Doc had already presented us to the ground. She looked at Doc and gave him the chin. “Well?” Mary asked, tapping her toe in the dirt. “How does it taste?”
“Good,” Father said between bites. “It’s the best I ever tasted.”
Pleased, Mary went on her way.
The first man who said he would fight made his way to our table. Father embraced him. Then I saw the resemblance.
“This is your uncle, Jakara,” Father said.
“You know I don’t like to be called that.” My uncle looked at me. “You got a good-looking son there, Bardon. You must be proud.”
“His name is Noah. And you have no idea the pride I have in him.”
“Just call me Uncle Jack,” he said.
“Why are you not training with the other men, Uncle Jack?” I asked.
“I am a pretty good fighter already.”
Doc passed our table.
“Hey, Doc, can you get us a couple of plates from your pot?” Father asked. “We love Aunt Mary, but we don’t love her cooking.”
We ate and visited with the villagers until we couldn’t keep our eyes open any longer. As we were leaving, we saw Aunt Mary sneaking a bite from Doc’s pot. Doc smiled and shook his head.
When we arrived at our cottage, Aunt Lilly was waiting. We hadn’t seen her since our return to Nod. I hugged her, and she broke down in sobs.
“I guess you heard about Steven,” Father said. “I wanted to tell you myself, but I couldn’t find you.”
Lilly cried “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me Steven is coming home. Tell me, Bardon. If you say it, I’ll believe you. Don’t tell me my Steven is dead.”
“Come outside, Lilly, so we can talk,” Father said. “Doc, you and Mara can sleep in my bed. I will bunk with Noah.” Then he took Lilly’s arm and led her outside and across the yard.
Doc and Mara fell asleep quickly. I had a much harder time. As I tossed and turned, I heard Father and Aunt Lilly return to the house and continue talking.
“You told me you would protect him, Bardon,” Lilly said. “You promised me.”
“I know he was your husband, but he was my brother, too,” Father sobbed. “I cried for his life. I begged for it. The king wouldn’t hear me. He takes a man’s blood as if it’s water. I would have given my life for him, but it happened so fast. He died in my arms.”
“I know it must have been bad, Bardon,” Lilly said.
I heard the door open, and then my Uncle Jack’s voice. Lilly said good night to them and retired to her room. The silence in the living room was only broken when her door clicked shut.
“So what brings you back here, brother?” Father asked into the silence.
“My son Jacob was taken by woman warriors two years ago, and I have been trying to find him. I searched the land, watching an army of angels take men from villages. I knew they would come to Nod, and I came to stand with my brothers, but I was too late. What happened to Steven?”
“They shot him full of arrows, and he died in my arms.”
“I’m sorry. Steven was a good brother.”
“
You will never know how good of a brother he was.”
It was around then that I finally fell asleep.
A DREAM OF JOURNEY
I dreamed about Journey and woke screaming.
“What’s wrong, Noah?” asked my father, shaking me awake.
“I had a dream about Journey.”
“It was only a dream, son, but thanks for waking me up. It’s getting late.” He dressed and turned as he was leaving. “Don’t take too long. We have a long day ahead of us.”
Doc looked around the corner and saw me sitting in bed. He sat next to me. “Your father has a lot on his mind, but I would like to hear your dream.”
“Journey was walking into her village. I saw the gates, and there were spider webs everywhere. It was deserted. She saw something and began to run. Then I saw soldiers beating on her, and then she was walking with us. What does it mean?”
“Sometimes dreams tell us the future, and sometimes they are nothing more than nightmares.”
“Which was this?”
“I guess only time will tell.”
CHAPTER 22
Can Mara Kill
I opened the door and smelled breakfast. I got in a long line, but it moved pretty fast. I got my food and sat down. I said a prayer for today to go well then I began to eat. I heard the men talking about things getting better. My father had given them hope.
Mara sat down beside me and said good morning. “Almost done?” she asked. “We have a lot to do today.”
“Where’s your food Mara?”
“I’m not a breakfast person.”
“I’m done. Let’s go.”
We passed dozens of sparring couples. They all looked confident and dangerous.
“Well, Father, I think you’re making fighters out of them,” I said as I walked up.
“I think you’re wrong.”
“What?” I asked, surprised.
“We are making fighters out of them.” Father whistled loudly, and everyone quieted. “For the rest of the day, we are training in the woods. I want everyone to cut a staff and then find a tree,” he said. “If you need help, let us know.”
I walked through the gates, and the people followed me hesitantly, fearful of what lay beyond.
My father walked up and stopped beside me. “It’s not wrong to be afraid, but when I am done with you, you will be warriors.” We marched into the woods and began teaching the lessons Journey had taught us.
“Swing left, swing right, swing up, swing down, over and over again against the tree,” he commanded.
Training went on for hours. The dinner bell rang, and Doc and Mary appeared with food and water. Everyone sat down to eat.
“How does it taste?” asked Mary.
“It’s good,” Father said.
“Doc here is a pretty good cook. Almost as good as me. But I’m going teach him to be a great cook,” Mary said. “I have more mouths to feed. I’ll see you later.”
“Doc, can you make something for our hands?” asked Father, looking at the cracks appearing in his palm.
“I will get right on that,” Doc said.
We finished eating then Father stood up and yelled, “Break time is over.”
I wandered over to where Mara was training the women and saw a big man teasing the girls.
So I went to my father and told him, “There’s a man picking on the girls.” “They call him Tree. He is saying that he has a big stick and wants to use it on them.”
My father remained calm and we went to see tree. “Hey, Tree!” he hollered. “I hear you got a big stick.”
“What’s wrong, Bardon? Jealous? They are just women. They’re used to it.”
“Do you know how to use that big stick?”
“Why? You want to fight me?”
Father just looked at him.
“I was just having fun,” sulked Tree.
“I’m here to teach you how to stay alive. You need a lesson.”
“So you’re going to give me a lesson?”
“No, someone will, but it’s not going to be me.”
“Who? Your son?”
“No, not Noah. I think Mara will do it.”
“You’re going to make me fight a little girl?” Tree chuckled. “I hope she likes my big stick.”
The men started laughing. Mara walked over and stood across from Tree.
“Get it on,” said Father.
Tree smiled and swung his stick as hard as he could. Mara hit him repeatedly, dodging his swings. Tree swung back and grazed her, knocking her to the ground. I ran to help, but she held up her hand.
“No!” she yelled. Her eyes faded to black. Tree was in trouble now. Mara jumped to her feet and hit Tree again. He fell to the ground. Mara jumped on top of him and raised her staff to finish him off, but my father grabbed her arm.
Father looked at the stunned crowd. “You see what good stick technique does. Everyone get back to training. It might mean your life. Who else wants to laugh at Mara?”
The men dropped their big sticks.
“Good. Now go get the right stick and begin training.”
We trained all day and into the night.
“We have to stop, Father. The light is gone, and we are tired.”
Father nodded. “We will get a fresh start in the morning. If your hands are hurting or blistered, see Doc.”
“What do you think about Mara kicking the shit out of Tree, Father?”
“She learned fast, and one day, she is going to make someone a good mate.”
“I thought she was going to kill him. I’m glad you stopped it.”
Father’s mood changed. He sighed and looked after the retreating villagers. “They aren’t getting it, are they, Noah?”
“It takes time.”
“Time is what we don’t have.”
“Things will work out. They always have. You just have to believe.”
“It’s hard to believe after what we been through, Noah.”
We went back to the village. Doc and Mara were taking care of everyone’s aches and pains.
“Do you need help?” I asked.
Mara smiled. “We can use all the help we can get.”
A pretty girl that Mara had been training walked up and held out her right hand. I rubbed the herbs into her right palm.
“You have strong hands, Noah,” the girl said. Then she smiled at me.
I bandaged her hand. She stuck out her other one, and I rubbed in Doc’s concoction. She grabbed my hand. “My name is Sheba. When you’re done, I could rub your hands.”
Mara growled, and she snatched hold of my other hand and squeezed with all her might.
“Ouch!” I protested.
“Noah, your hands are in bad shape. Let me help you,” Mara exclaimed. “Sheba, my dad will finish you.”
Sheba looked at me, but Mara growled and said, “He’s mine.”
Sheba got the hint and left.
“Really, Mara, my hands are fine,” I said.
“Give me your hands,” she snapped.
I held them out. She rubbed the herbs into my palms too hard, and her eyes turned black. “You’re mine.”
“Mara, that hurts.”
She looked up, and her eyes slipped to pink. “I’m sorry,” she said. Her grip gentled. “Is that better?” She continued talk, not letting me answer. “I heard about your dream. I hope Journey is all right.”
“I hope so, too. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
I went to our house and crawled into bed carefully, trying not to wake my father, who was already sleeping.
DREAM OR NIGHTMARE
I woke up screaming again. My father sat up and rubbed his eyes.
“They’re coming, and they have Journey. The soldiers will be here by noon. I saw soldiers and a
ngels hanging from a tree. There was some kind of blood all over us. This isn’t just a dream.”
“Are you sure, Noah?”
“I am positive.”
Doc rolled over and looked at Father. “He is seeing the future, Bardon.”
Father gathered his thoughts and headed out the door. He rang the bell and the village gathered.
“We are going to put stakes outside the walls today,” he announced. “We have to be done by noon, then I want everyone armed and ready on the wall.”
The morning came faster than we wanted. Father instructed me to work with the blacksmith. He would work outside the walls with Doc. They buried stakes in the ground and sharpened the other ends.
CHAPTER 23
Surrender
It seemed like time moved in slow motion. I helped Joe finish his work and started handing out the arrows. It was hot and muggy. Noon passed. Father looked at me. Then, over the horizon and into our field, the army came with their guns and their angels.
“Why aren’t they attacking, Father?”
“I don’t know.”
Four soldiers rode up to the gates with angels at their sides.
“I am Captain Ball,” one announced. “Give us Bardon and the others who escaped, or I will send in our angels to get them.”
“I am Bardon,” Father said. “Bring it on.”
Ball looked at my father. “I will bring the army back.”
“Like I said, bring it on. I have a thousand men ready to spill your blood.”
“I will be back.” Ball turned and left.
“Father, we don’t have a thousand men,” I said.
“They don’t know that.”
Doc started a chant. “Bardon! Bardon!”
Everyone joined in. It was so loud I knew the army could hear it.
The four soldiers returned leading a horse with a rider. A bag covered the rider’s head. They stopped just out of the reach of our arrows. Ball came to the gate.
“Bardon, we captured your woman. If you don’t come with me and bring the others who escaped with you, we will behead her in front of you.”
“How do I know it’s her?”
Angels of the Second Earth Age Page 11
