The Prophecy

by Jeffrey M. Poole

  ***

  Several hours had passed. Both were still walking along the same river still eagerly scanning the horizon looking for the same thing: some sign of human presence. So far, no luck. At times, the tiny path was practically impossible to follow, cutting through dense, squat brush that even a rabbit would have been lucky to get through. Other times the path inexplicably swerved in a different direction, almost doubling back on itself. Since the path they were following appeared to be used regularly, if it swerved to avoid harmless-looking trees, then so be it.

  The path rounded a bend on the left and they came across a field of shoulder-high pale, blue flowers. These, too, had thorns. Inch long thorns, to be exact. However, the trail proceeded straight through the flowers. Sarah pointed to the river.

  “Water looks shallow. I think we can make it around these things. I personally don’t want to go wading through those flowers.”

  “No arguments here.”

  Together they walked along the riverbank until they were finally forced to enter the water. Steve, who considered himself very chivalrous, gave Sarah a piggyback ride so she wouldn’t have to get wet. It was slow going, and the two of them nearly pitched into the river when Sarah started tickling him, but they eventually made it past the thorny flowers.

  The more they traveled on the path, the more Steve was convinced that they were following an animal trail. And he was willing to bet all the gold in Fort Knox that it wasn’t a deer trail.

  “Uh, oh.” Steve abruptly stopped, causing Sarah to plow straight into him.

  “What’s the matter?” Sarah leaned around her husband to see the source of the holdup.

  One of the hundred-foot high trees had fallen and now the mammoth tree was blocking the path. Steve surveyed the tree to determine the feasibility of hiking over it.

  “It’s not bad. We can climb over it.” The tree had a diameter of about ten feet and appeared to be a pine tree. Fortunately, there were many smaller limbs that were sticking out at all angles, making footholds plentiful. Steve had started breaking off the smallest of the limbs when he abruptly stopped. He bent to pick up one of the broken limbs, scrutinizing it closely. He looked at Sarah, grunted, and dropped the limb.

  Her interest had been piqued. “What is it?”

  “This pine tree,” Steve gestured at the fallen tree, “has pine needles.”

  Sarah looked at the tree and then back at her husband. She raised an eyebrow. “With you so far.”

  He retrieved the limb and handed it to her. “The needles have multiple points. Some have two points, others have three.”

  Sarah studied the needles. Yes, there were multiple ends, some resembling a snake’s forked tongue. With the exception of the needles, it looked like a typical pine tree.

  Steve climbed to the top of the massive trunk and helped Sarah up. Once she was safely standing next to him, he slowly lowered her to the other side. From this vantage point he could see the path along the river stretch out for several more miles before it disappeared around a hill. Still no signs of civilization. He dropped to the other side next to Sarah and they resumed walking.

  Steve watched his wife closely. How scared was she? This place would give anyone the creeps. The eerie silence was enough to give anyone the willies. What if they run into one of those griffins again? What if they don’t fly off? What if it’s something worse? What if… Why was Sarah smiling at him?

  Sarah was grinning from ear to ear. One thing about Steve, it wasn’t possible for him to be sneaky without a neon sign above his head blinking ‘I’m up to something’! He was as easy to read as a book with large print.

  “What?” she asked, with all innocence.

  “Nothing. Just seeing how you’re holding up. You look so calm. Aren’t you worried about what might happen to us?” She shook her head no. “How are you doing?”

  “All things considering, not bad. There’s nothing we can do about where we presently are. Why dwell on it? We’re here, and we will have to do what’s necessary to get out of this mess.” Her eyes flickered momentarily to his. “The mess that you got us into.”

  Steve stopped dead in his tracks. He whirled on her. “My mess? I thought we went through this. I…” he broke off as his darling love-of-his-life wife start laughing at him. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

  Sarah couldn’t stop laughing. He looked so flustered! Every time she managed to compose herself, she took one look at her husband and broke out in giggles again. Even Steve started laughing, too, and when he started laughing, there was no telling when they would both be able to stop.

  “What are you trying to do??” Sarah gasped. “I can’t breathe! Sides h-hurt! Stop - laughing!”

  “Absolutely no sympathy. Whatsoever.” He turned to her and pulled her in to an embrace. “We’ll get out of this. I promise you.”

  “I know we will. It’s just frightening, that’s all. If the trees and flowers are different, and creatures like those griffins live here, what else are we going to find? What if the people here are savages? Provided some people actually live here, that is.”

  Steve thought a moment. “If there are people here, I can guarantee that they aren’t savages. Or cannibalistic, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “How? How can you be certain?”

  “My grandparents. If this was such a horrific place, I doubt they would return here. The fact that they were always gone suggests that they were always here. I would go on to say that they might have a home here, or have at the very least some friends here that they visited often. Someone that knew them. Someone that would know they weren’t from around here. And if they did have friends like that, they obviously had a way to return home.”

  For the first time since she arrived in this strange world, Sarah felt a little relieved. It made sense. Play the tourist, but have that round trip ticket to return home. The portal was installed in that house so they could visit here whenever they wanted, so there must be a way to return back. So how do you get the return ticket?

  “So we just need to find someone that knew them? That’s the plan now?”

  “Yeah, don’t you agree? If we can find any friends of theirs, then they would have to know that my grandparents weren’t natives here. They would know that they returned to their home occasionally. If we’re lucky, they will know how they did it. Or at least point us in the direction of somebody that might know.”

  “What if they didn’t have any friends?” Sarah was doing an excellent job of playing the devil’s advocate. “What if they preferred their solitude?”

  Steve suddenly smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “The journal! Remember the journal? That entry I read to you. Hey, in fact…” Steve began systematically patting his pockets. With an exclamation of triumph, he pulled the small, leather book from his inside jacket pocket. He opened it and started flipping through pages.

  “Oh sure, found it before, can’t find it now. Damn. Where is that freakin’ passage?”

  “You mean Capily?” Sarah’s short-term memory was a shade better than his, a fact that she didn’t hesitate to remind him of from time to time. “I thought that entry referred to a place, not a person.”

  “Capily,” Steve repeated. “I remember that now. Wasn’t what I was referring to, though. I thought there was something else. Where is that friggin’… Ah! Here it is. Listen, listen to this: ‘The Nayan is eager to read about Voltan’s legendary journeys…’”

  He snapped the journal closed and looked at Sarah.

  “That’s two names to work with. Nayan and Voltan. Although, now that I think about it, I think Voltan refers to some historic figure. ‘Legendary’. Doubt that dude is still alive. No,” Steve shook his head, “I think we need to concentrate on Nayan, whoever that might be.”

  “Nayan? That passage said ‘the’. I thought that referred to a title, not
the name of a person.”

  “Name of a person, or a title.” Steve shrugged. “It’s still something to go off of.”

  “I just hope ‘the Nayan’ doesn’t refer to the lady of the house, or some other generic title. Or could be…” she trailed off. Steve was staring at her. “What?”

  “What is it with you??” He started laughing. “Let’s try and be a little optimistic, huh?”

  Sarah took a deep breath. “Okay, until evidence suggests otherwise, let’s assume ‘the Nayan’ refers to just one person.”

  They proceeded east for another couple of hours. Steve noted with dismay that it was starting to get dark. He hadn’t realized it until now, but he was also quite famished. He was fairly certain that Sarah was hungry as well. He nervously scanned the area, looking for a suitable place to camp for the night, when his luck held out. About two miles down the river a tiny cottage had appeared, complete with a thatched roof. A single stone chimney was sending out tendrils of smoke against the darkening sky.

  “Oh, thank God! Look, honey!” Sarah was pointing to the cottage. “Do you think they’ll help us?”

  “Only one way to find out.” He took her hand. “Come on.”

  As they approached the small house, the flowers in the flowerbeds that were scattered all about the house pivoted in unison until they faced them.

  Steve blinked a couple of times. Were those flowers watching us?

  Several of the violet-colored flowers were actually starting to glow, and the orange-colored ones started vibrating. In fact, they started producing a ringing noise that was growing steadily louder.

  Sarah was dumbfounded.

  “They’re protecting the house! Amazing!!”

  Muffled shouts could be heard coming from the dwelling. The door banged open and a young, bearded man barged out holding a long stick with an equally long metal blade attached at the end. He was dressed in worn, non-descript clothing. The man took one look at them and assumed a menacing stance.

  “Ummm, take it easy friend.” Steve raised his hands, palms up. “We mean you no harm. We were hoping to…” he broke off and looked at Sarah. “New problem. I doubt this guy can even understand me.” Steve sighed. He turned back towards the bearded man. He took a breath but was instantly cut off by the young stranger.

  “And why would I not understand ye? Ye are human, are ye not?” The weapon remained trained on them. “Who are ye? What do ye want?”

  The peasant looked beyond Steve and saw Sarah standing quietly. His eyes widened.

  “Ye took yer woman out at night? I see no sword, no weapon. If ye are attacked, what then??”

  “You can understand me? How is that possible?” Steve shook his head. “Scratch that. Listen, we mean you no harm. But we need your help. We’re lost, we don’t know where to go. It’s late. Can you help us?

  The peasant looked them over again. Apparently they were deemed harmless, because he straightened up and lowered the weapon.

  “Ye seem to be decent folk. Aye, I will help if I can. I am Kornal.” He extended his arm. “What kind of assistance would the two of ye be needing?”

  “My name is Steve. Steve Miller.” Steve went to shake the proffered hand, but before he could grasp his hand, Kornal had grabbed his forearm and gave it a friendly shake.

  “Glad to meet ye, Stevemiller. Strange name.” Kornal looked over to Sarah, then back at Steve. He nodded in Sarah’s direction.

  “Oh, sorry. This is my wife, Sarah.”

  Sarah stepped forward and clasped his arm in the fashion she had seen Kornal use. “Pleased to meet you, Kornal.”

  Steve stepped forward. “Kornal, we really need your help. We’re not from around here. We need a place to stay for the night. I really hate to impose, but can you help us out? And tell you what, call me Steve. It’s easier.”

  “Steve. Aye. Sounds better.” Kornal gestured to the cottage. “Let us go inside. It is safer and ye can meet my woman.”

  He opened the door and beckoned them to follow. Steve glanced at Sarah. They stared at each other for a moment. Taking a deep breath, Steve stepped inside, with Sarah following close on his heels.

  Kornal had disappeared somewhere in the back of the cottage, presumably to bring his wife out to meet the visitors. As Sarah entered, she caught the last parts of a whispered argument.

  “Are ye crazy??” A woman’s voice was hissing out the words. “Ye meet total strangers and invite them into our home? What the blazes are ye thinking??”

  The man was trying to smooth things over.

  “Nilly, just come and meet them. Ye will see that there is something different about them.”

  The lady of the house, followed closely by Kornal, came out of the back and stared at her guests. She spoke but one word:

  “Greetings.”

  Steve glanced quickly at Kornal. Being a married man, he recognized the danger signs brewing in an irritated female. Kornal smoothed down his beard and took a deep breath.

  “This is my wife, Nilhanu.”

  Nilhanu deliberately met each of their eyes.

  Kornal gestured to their guests. “These are the people that need our help.”

  Sarah spoke first.

  “I’m really sorry to impose on you like this, ma’am. We don’t mean to be an inconvenience to you. Truthfully, we’re lost. Very lost. Your husband has very generously offered his help.”

  “As you can see,” Steve added, “we’re not from around here.”

  Nilhanu eyed her husband dangerously before returning her gaze to Steve. “Aye, I can tell ye are not from these parts. Who are ye and what are ye doing here?”

  “My name is Steve, and this is my wife, Sarah.”

  Sarah, remembering how Kornal clasped Steve’s forearm, duplicated the gesture of greeting with the lady of the house.

  Nilhanu stared in disbelief at the stranger. She had just been greeted as though she were a man! Either this was an elaborate prank concocted by her oaf of a husband or else these two were truly not from this kingdom, or any of the neighboring kingdoms for that matter. She looked to Kornal to see what his reaction would be, but discovered instead he was engaged in conversation with the strange man.

  “I’m so sorry! Have I offended you?” Sarah was upset. She had watched Nilhanu’s eyes open with surprise, so she knew something had transpired. The question was, was it good or bad? She looked to see what Steve’s reaction was. Her husband, however, was trying to unsuccessfully describe to Kornal what a telephone was and where the closest one could be located. “If I have, I am truly sorry. I’m unfamiliar with the ways of this land. In fact, I don’t even know where we are.”

  “I was not certain of ye before,” Nilhanu admitted, “and since ye have greeted me as a man would greet a man,” (Sarah blushed and looked down), “I am more convinced that ye and…” she gestured to Steve.

  “Steve,” Sarah supplied helpfully.

  “Aye, right. Steve. Apologies.” Nilhanu took a deep breath. “Ye and Steve must be true strangers here. And as such, Kornal and I will do our best to help ye out.”

  Sarah was so grateful that she sank down wearily into the closest chair. Tears started forming in her eyes. She took Nilhanu’s hand this time and clasped it tightly. “Thank you.”

  “Are ye hungry? We were about to have our supper. There is plenty here for four.”

  “Yes, we are. We are very grateful.” Sarah looked to Steve, still in conversation with Kornal. “We haven’t eaten anything for the better part of the day. The last thing I had was a couple bags of beef jerky.”

  “Beaf jerkie? What is that?”

  “Ummm, dried strips of meat. For traveling.”

  “Ah! I understand.” Nilhanu gestured towards the hearth where a small iron kettle was hung over the flames. “I have put some dried meat in the stew. Bolger meat is quite tasty, dried or fresh.”

  “Bol
ger?”

  “Aye, bolger. Is that not the type of meat ye ate earlier?”

  “Ummm, no. It was, well, it was cow meat.”

  “Kow?” Nilhanu said the unfamiliar word slowly. “What manner of creature is that?”

  “One that is bred for its meat in my homeland.” Sarah paused, never believing in her wildest dreams that she’d one day have to describe what a cow was. “It’s quite good.”

  Nilhanu smiled hospitably. She still didn’t know what a kow was, but it was not important to her. She rose and left the room, returning moments later with four bowls and four flat, wooden spoons.

  Sarah again looked over to Steve. He was still talking with Kornal.

  “Steve?”

  Steve’s eyes snapped over to lock on hers. “Yes?”

  Sarah gestured to the bowls. “Have some stew.”

  “Great! I’m starved.” Steve walked over to his wife and took his bowl of steaming stew. The spoon was half-way up to his mouth by the time he sat down in front of the fireplace. The fire flared just then, giving off enough light for him to catch sight of the contents of the bowl. Chunks of green meat caught his eye, with unfamiliar vegetables and bits of leaves and other unknown greens floating around in a light green broth. His eyes widened, and then narrowed in speculation.

  Sarah, who had suspected this behavior would come from her culinary-retarded husband, elbowed Steve discreetly in his ribs. Hard, but not hard enough to spill the stew. Fortunately, their hosts were busily consuming their own bowls.

  Sarah whispered a fast set of instructions to her hesitant husband. “Hon, just eat it. Don’t ask.”

  Steve looked at his wife, back at the bowl of stew/glop, back to his wife and took a bite. Fortunately, his hunger prevailed. Besides, it wasn’t that bad. With a side-long grin at his wife, he ate another spoonful. And another. “It’s very good.”