The Cursed Lands

by Timothy L. Cerepaka

  The girl did not respond to that. She was clearly still thinking about everything he’d said. For a moment, Sarzen was worried that she might reject his offer and run away and tell her master about him.

  Finally, the girl lowered her bat to the floor. “All right. I believe you. I don’t want to be beaten anymore.”

  Sarzen sighed in relief. “Good. I will make sure that neither your master nor his friends harm you. Now, I need you to open the vault for me. If we’re going to free the other slaves, we will need to get all of their possessions to them, and fast.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Helnia wished that she had known ahead of time what Sarzen and the others’ ‘distraction’ was going to be. It would have saved her a lot of grief.

  The day began like every other day. Helnia awoke in her shack, feeling awful and tired and in pain, but this time she didn’t get up right away, because one look at the weak light streaming through the window of her shack told her that the day’s work had not yet began. That meant she would have time to sleep, but now that she was awake, there was no way she was going back to sleep even if she closed her eyes.

  But neither was Helnia going to get up and walk around. She decided that she would just lie there, pointlessly staring at the ceiling of her shack, until one of the Draymens slave masters came and dragged her to the quarry. She half-hoped that they would just kill her and be done with it, but she knew that that was just her depression speaking. Intellectually, she knew that Sarzen and the others were going to rescue her today, but she did not know when they would. She hoped it would be soon, because her aching hands and back did not want to go back to work today.

  Helnia would have thought that the little glowing bird that had delivered that letter to her last night had just been a dream or hallucination, but she held in her hand the letter that the bird had given her. She had fallen asleep reading it over and over again, even when she didn’t have the light to read it by.

  Helnia looked at the tiny letter and squeezed her hand around it. It was the only bit of hope she had so far, but her cynical side told her that Sarzen and the others would not be able to save her and that she should not get her hopes up.

  I guess we’ll see today if the Dragon Gods heard my prayers last night or not, Helnia thought.

  All of a sudden, Helnia heard loud shouting—the other slaves, based on their Yoresian accents—followed by the sounds of shacks crashing and collapsing into the ground. Despite her exhaustion and pain, Helnia sat up. She heard screams and shouting outside, as well as cursing, so she rose to her feet unsteadily, using the back wall for support, and then peeked out the window of her shack.

  Helnia saw slaves running in the streets outside, screaming and shouting like it was the end of the world. Some of them were screaming for help from the masters, while others were simply shouting incoherently. It was incredibly chaotic and for a moment Helnia did not understand what had frightened everyone so much until she spotted the shattered remains of a group of nearby shacks.

  Where there had once stood a dozen shacks was now a large pile of wood and dirt. It looked like a bull had run through and knocked them all to pieces. Granted, it wasn’t exactly difficult to knock down these shacks, but seeing so many destroyed at once was unusual, so Helnia understood why everyone was so afraid and confused.

  How did that happen? Helnia thought. Is someone attacking the town?

  Helnia knew she couldn’t find the answers to her questions here, so she ran over to the door of her shack, pulled it open, and stepped outside.

  Just as Helnia exited her shack, Aroda—who looked alert and awake, no doubt due to all of the noise—ran up to her and said, “Helnia! What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” said Helnia, putting a hand on her head and looking at the destroyed shacks. “It looks like the shacks were attacked, but I don’t know who attacked them.”

  Just as Helnia said that, three figures suddenly appeared on top of the heap of collapsed shacks. Thanks to the dust that had arisen from the collapse of the shacks, it was difficult at first to see who they were, but when a gust of wind blew away the dust cloud, Helnia could not help but gasp.

  Standing atop the ruins of the collapsed shacks were Rothel and two of the Warrior Priests. All three of them held their swords out, though Rothel was also touching his Raugus necklace, which was glowing with the energy within. Helnia did not see Sarzen among them, but that was fine because she knew that she was about to be saved either way.

  “Who is that guy?” said Aroda, staring up at Rothel and the Warrior Priests with interest. “He’s rather handsome.”

  “That’s Rothel,” said Helnia. “He’s one of my friends. And those two Warrior Priests with him are also friends of mine, though I don’t know them very well.”

  Aroda looked at Helnia in surprise. “What are your friends doing here? Are they going to save us?”

  Helnia opened her mouth to reply, but then Rothel—in a much louder voice than usual—shouted, “Slaves of Reck, stop running around in confusion! You do not need to be afraid, for we are here to rescue you from your enslavement!”

  Rothel’s voice sounded strange to Helnia. It sounded authoritative and powerful, kind of like what Helnia always imagined a king would sound like. His voice boomed across the area, perhaps even across the whole town, which Helnia assumed was due to his magic, though she suddenly realized that he was no longer touching his necklace.

  Helnia certainly wasn’t the only one to listen to Rothel’s commands. The other slaves—who had been running around like headless chickens—came to an abrupt halt and looked over at Rothel and the Warrior Priests with confusion on their faces.

  “Who the hell are you?” shouted one of the slaves. “Were you the one who destroyed our shacks?”

  “That we did, but only as part of a greater plan to free all of you,” said Rothel. “Please do not be angry with us.”

  “But one of those shacks was my home,” another slave said in a sad voice. “And the slave masters are not going to give me another.”

  “You won’t need one if you listen to us,” said Rothel, “because today we are going to free every man, woman, and child in this town. For good.”

  The slaves all exchanged puzzled looks with one another. Some of the slaves began muttering among themselves, but only one of them—the one who had lost his shack—had the courage to ask, “Who are you people? How will you free us from the Draymens?”

  “My name is Rothel Oran, a mage of Ars,” said Rothel, putting a hand on his chest. He gestured at the other two Warrior Priests. “And these are my companions and allies, Sehn and Kiloa. We are from the city of Ars and are part of a special group of people tasked by the Elect Council of Yores with finding the Dragon Gods, who will save us all from the Draymens once and for all.”

  “Find the Dragon Gods?” said the slave incredulously. “Impossible. They’re gone and will never come back.”

  “Perhaps, but that’s not relevant right now,” said Rothel. “What matters is that we are taking a short break from our quest to save all of you, because we cannot tolerate seeing Draymens hold our fellow Yoresians as slaves in these terrible conditions.”

  “Wow, he talks pretty impressively,” Aroda muttered under her breath to Helnia. “Handsome and a good speaker. Those are two qualities hard to find in one man.”

  Helnia ignored Aroda’s muttering in order to focus on Rothel and the others. She watched as the other slaves began muttering among themselves again, this time with more hope in their voices.

  “Not only will we free you all, but we will also return your belongings that were stolen from you by the Draymens, so that you will be able to flee this place safely,” said Rothel. “As we speak, one of our own is currently attempting to break into the vault where your belongings are being kept. Once he retrieves them, you will be able to defeat your masters and free yourselves and we will help.”

  More mutterings among the slaves. There was
no mistaking it this time; many slaves were starting to believe Rothel’s words. Even Helnia, who had no reason to doubt him, found herself listening to him with more interest than usual. She wondered why he could speak so well and so authoritatively; as far as she knew, Rothel was merely an ordinary mage, just like her, and had no special powers beyond what most mages had. Perhaps he was just a better public speaker than she’d known.

  But then a loud, harsh laugh broke out from somewhere nearby. It was so sudden that Helnia jumped and looked around for it, as did the other slaves. Rothel, Sehn, and Kiloa just looked around as well.

  Then Helnia spotted him. Moving toward Rothel and the others like some foul, loathsome creature that had emerged from under a rock was Lach. He was laughing to himself, his movements as slimy and unnatural as a snake. His thin, gangly form stopped at the base of the shacks, his smirk visible even from a distance.

  “What are you laughing about?” said Rothel. He sounded flustered, which broke the authority in his voice. “Did I say something funny?”

  Lach was laughing almost too much to respond, but he finally gained control over his laughter long enough to say, “Oh, every word you said was gold. And I can’t believe that the rest of the slaves were dumb enough to listen. Then again, considering how dumb we humans are, I shouldn’t be surprised that we’d listen to liars like these idiots.”

  “Liars?” said Rothel. “We’re not lying. We’re serious about saving all of you.”

  “Yeah, we don’t want to be saved, thanks,” said Lach, rolling his eyes. “Or rather, we shouldn’t be saved. We should just be glad that the Draymens decided to make us their slave laborers, instead of killing us outright, as we deserve.”

  “Deserve?” said Rothel. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m just saying that we humans have been pretty bad to Draymens over the years,” said Lach, “so enslaving us is just payback. And frankly, I think it’s a little pathetic how many of us want to be free. Not so happy about oppression now that we’re on the receiving end of it, huh?”

  Rothel looked at a total loss for words, as did Sehn and Kiloa. That wasn’t good; Helnia could already see that the other slaves, even including Aroda, were starting to look doubtful themselves, as if they were starting to believe Lach’s words. Helnia even found herself starting to doubt that Rothel and the others could save them, but she caught herself before she let her doubt get the best of her.

  “But … but slavery is wrong,” said Rothel. “Draymens shouldn’t enslave humans.”

  “Well, humans shouldn’t take land from Draymens, either,” said Lach with a snort. “Now, Mr. Rothel or whatever your name is, unlike you and every other slave in this place, I know my place. I know that this is just what we deserve. We are reaping what our ancestors sowed a thousand years ago. Sorry if you can’t accept that.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Rothel. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  “It’s no joke,” Lach said. “I’m just more, well, aware than you, I guess. Unlike everyone else, I’m not blinded by pro-human bias. I have enough objectivity to recognize that we deserve everything that’s happened to us so far. Sorry you don’t understand that; I guess you’re just that stupid.”

  Even Helnia, who was already too familiar with Lach’s bizarre beliefs than she liked, found herself disgusted by his words. She wanted to punch him out, though given her current emaciated state, she doubted she’d be able to hurt him much.

  At that moment, the sound of clinking armor could be heard, causing Helnia to look down the street. Her spirits fell when she saw a dozen armed Draymens rushing down the street toward the crowd of assembled slaves, snorting and grunting in anger.

  The slaves immediately scattered. Some ran back into their shacks, slamming the doors shut behind them, while others fled behind or between other shacks. Helnia stepped back into the doorway of her shack and Aroda joined her, but the Draymens paid no attention to the slaves. Their attention was instead on Rothel, Sehn, and Kiloa, who jumped off the collapsed pile of shacks onto the streets and faced the Draymens with their swords in front of them.

  The only slave who wasn’t panicking at the sight of the Draymens was Lach. He just stepped into the shadows between two shacks, still smirking as he folded his arms across his chest and watched the Draymens advance. Helnia wanted to strangle him, but she also didn’t want to put herself in the middle of the inevitable conflict between the Draymens and her allies. She just watched as the Draymens surrounded Rothel, Sehn, and Kiloa, effectively cutting off all avenues of escape for those three.

  “Looks like your friends are about to be slaughtered,” Aroda said. She sighed. “A shame, too, because I was hoping to get to know the handsome one a lot better after this.”

  Helnia clutched the door frame in worry. She knew that Rothel was a good fighter and Sehn and Kiloa probably were, too, since they were Warrior Priests, but at the same time she knew just how vicious and cruel these Draymens could be. She watched as the Draymens waved their own weapons and growled and spat at Rothel, Sehn, and Kiloa, who had backed up against each other so their backs wouldn’t be exposed to their foes.

  Right before the Draymens could attack, however, a sudden fire bolt came out of nowhere and struck one of the Draymens in the back of the head. The Draymens immediately collapsed, the hole in the back of its head smoking, as the other Draymens looked at their fallen comrade in surprise.

  But that was all they got to do before, without warning, more fire bolts came, these ones coming from several directions at once. They came from between shacks and with every fire bolt shot, Helnia caught a glimpse of the other mages who traveled with the caravan, tapping their necklaces and sending fire bolts flying at the Draymens.

  Not every fire bolt hit its mark, but the sudden magical attacks caused the Draymens to break ranks. Some turned around to try to defend themselves with shields, while others tried to retreat, only to be cut down by Rothel or one of the Warrior Priests. One Draymens was struck in the knee by a stray bolt and, before it could get back up, was beheaded by Rothel, who was moving so fast that he appeared to be floating rather than walking.

  In less than five minutes, all twelve of the Draymens were dead. Some were beheaded, while others had smoking wounds in their hearts or heads, and still others had had their chest cut open by Rothel, Sehn, and Kiloa. Some of the nearby shacks had caught fire as well, including the pile of shacks collapsed by Rothel and the others, but none of the slaves had gotten harmed in the middle of the brief but furious battle.

  “Whoa,” said Aroda, staring at the Draymens corpses lying on the ground. “Handsome and ruthless.” She looked at Helnia again. “You don’t mind if I have some of him, do you?”

  Helnia was about to ask what she meant by that, but then she noticed that the slaves were starting to come out of hiding now that the fighting was over. But the slaves came out hesitantly; poking their heads out the windows of their shacks, cracking open the doors of their shacks to peek outside, or walking out into the open carefully, as if they expected to be shot down the second they showed themselves.

  The slaves were not the only ones coming out of hiding. As Helnia watched, the mages who had picked off the Draymens from a distance were also emerging from their hiding spots, making their way over to join Rothel, Sehn, and Kiloa. Among them was a man Helnia didn’t recognize, who carried a glowing ax at his side and had a cute, tiny bird on his shoulder, a bird that Helnia recognized as the one that had delivered Sarzen’s letter last night to her.

  Rothel gestured at the dead Draymens that lay all around them. “Slaves of Reck, do you see these dead monsters? Do any of you now doubt that we can free all of you from your masters? That we can ensure that these beasts never take your freedom from you again?”

  This time, Helnia saw no doubt or skepticism on the faces of any of the slaves. Quite a few were starting to cry in happiness, especially the older men and women who had been slaves the longest. Even Helnia could feel tears st
arting to come, tears that she had not realized she’d been holding in.

  Then Rothel pointed at the man with the glowing ax. “This man is known as the Draymens Slayer, who some of you may have heard of. He will lead you out of this town to a safe place in Yores. You must follow him and do whatever he tells you, because he has experience fighting the Draymens and knows how to defend people from them.”

  The Draymens Slayer. Helnia remembered the old man Juren telling her and Sarzen about that man. She leaned in closer, trying to see if he looked like them, but he was too far away for her to identify him. She thought that his eye color was similar to Father’s, but it was almost impossible to tell for sure.

  In any case, Helnia was so happy about this that she was starting to feel hopeful again. She still didn’t see Sarzen among them, but she thought he might be the one trying to break into the vault with all their possessions. It was the only explanation she had for why he wasn’t here; otherwise, she was sure he would have been alongside Rothel fighting and killing Draymens.

  But then Helnia sensed something nearby. It was an odd feeling, like the weather had changed, but when she looked up at the sky, she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

  She looked at Aroda. “Aroda, do you feel anything wrong?”

  “Wrong?” said Aroda. “Like what?”

  “Like … we’re being watched,” said Helnia. “It’s hard to describe.”

  “It’s probably nothing,” said Aroda. “We’re about to be freed, so we shouldn’t worry. I’m sure nothing bad will—”

  A rumbling sound from above—like thunder—interrupted Aroda. Helnia immediately looked up at the sky and saw a vast, dark cloud coming toward them.

  And the cloud had two glowing, purple eyes within its mass that glared down at them all.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Helnia had never seen anything like this cloud before. It moved with a definite purpose, as if it was a living creature and not merely a cloud being blown about by the wind. It was huge, easily four or five times taller than Helnia, and deep rumbling sounds came from within it that made the hairs on her arms stand on end.