Benedict

by Jackson Bennett

  To either side of him, within easy distance of the doors, were two encampments of the Ant men and women that were guarding the entrance outside. The women were no different from the men in everything they could do, except that they were almost a third bigger than their male counterparts and as Benedict thought on it he realised that the guards outside were in fact female for the males were the same height as himself. Both sexes were ferocious fighters and that had been the original purpose behind their creation, but since that day they had proven to be a social and gregarious people as their human part had come through and complemented their dominant ant part and in times of need they became the main defensive force.

  Just beyond these two groups, again separated from the doors by only a few dozen meters, was the second line of defence, black bears. Like the ant men before these were no ordinary bears, for like almost every creature in Fire Mountain their kind had been created by magic, by merging a man with a wild creature.

  The results had been varied in each creature. In some, like the bears, the wild beast was the most dominant whilst in others it was man. Through this magic, it had been possible to alter the growth, size and appearance of the resultant creature. With the Ant men they had had their size altered from only a few millimetres in length to six to eight foot. The bears had been left unchanged physically, for their size and strength had proven impossible to manipulate. The blending had given them the power of speech, after a fashion, and made them more sociable so that they stayed in small groups of about four-six. Like the Ant men they were ferocious fighters but unlike them they did not practice with weapons, for although they could manipulate them they preferred their claws.

  Benedict could remember fighting side-by-side with these people many life times before, and remembered how fast, strong and ferocious they had been and knew intuitively that he would never want to face them as an enemy.

  Benedict’s gaze flowed on to the left of the lake where there was a small cluster of trees growing by the waterline, as he looked at them he noticed how the branches seemed to dip and sway as if in a wind and at the same time to bend down to the water as if drinking. Benedict was surprised to see these people here, for they were currently not in danger in the outside world. They were forest folk, they were skin and blood like men but their shape and appearance was that of a tree or shrub. Richard’s memory surfaced of the encounter in Fire Mountain when the trees seemed to be pushing in and touching him and the others as they walked along the path.

  Benedict’s memories of encounters with the forest folk returned.

  They could speak fluently but they had no face or mouth, instead when they wanted to communicate, their branches contorted and bent into a face and the sounds seemed to come from the mouth area as the leaves and branches there-in vibrated and pulsed like the voice box of a man. Their “voice,” was deep and resonant and seemed to speak to the heart for such was the warmth.

  When they wished to move they would walk like a spider as the roots began to extend and shuffle them along at quite a pace. Of all the magical folk in this land the forest folk were the most numerous, for they were everywhere from the towns to the forests as they enjoyed both the company of man and the solitude of the deep forest. They had been amongst the first to be created. The results had been surprising, for there was something about the trees that exceeded their planned merging and allowed them to animate as they did. To see these people here and now he knew they were worried.

  As the branches of the trees dipped in the water it swirled and frothed far beyond that warranted by the motion of the trees limbs. Benedict knew this was because of the water spirits. They were a being much like the lava women Richard knew well, for they could manipulate water and had been merged by magic’s centuries before when they had been chosen because of some form of injury or disease. None had been created for as long as Benedict could remember. There was something about the merging in these folk that had brought out the practical joker and mischievous side to their nature, for they were a playful people who liked nothing more than to play like they were now with the forest folk.

  They were able to manipulate anything that contained water or at least pass through it, which had caused quite a stir when they had passed into men and women to control their actions for a “practical joke.” These times had resulted in stories of possession by ghosts, which had amused the water spirits no end.

  Although they were a flighty lot they could be relied upon in a crunch although they would still try to have a joke in the process where possible.

  His attention was caught by a sudden whinnying from the right hand side of the cave where a horse had reared onto its hind legs and was clawing its front hooves at a fountain of water that was being sprayed from the lake as if it came out of the water itself. As Benedict watched with a chuckle in his chest, for he knew it was the water spirits making mischief, the horse began to mutate and transform into a humanoid form.

  When it had finished changing it resembled a man in general form but there were hooves where its hands and feet should have been, these hooves were split into three fingers. The other major distinguishing feature was the face, which was elongated beyond that of a man’s and the ears, which were not overly big, came from the top of the head instead of the sides. The creature was covered entirely in coarse fur in patches of black and white, which were the colours of its horse form. These were the only creatures that could change between two forms. The man and the beast.

  Richards’s memories of the dark caverns came back to him and the noises he could hear from the empty darkness that had eliminated all light. He now knew who had made those noises and as these memories merged with Benedict’s he knew for certain that the rich silky voices he had heard belonged to these folk.

  The horse shouted in its silky voice “STOP THIS AT ONCE, THIS IS NO TIME FOR FOOLING AROUND,” and with that the spirit stopped and disappeared, going off to find someone else to ambush. The “horse,” turned its attention to Benedict and staying in its current form it walked briskly around the lake.

  Benedict knew this man to be the leader of the folk of Fire Mountain, for his black & white coat was unique amongst his people as they were either chestnut or grey. His name was Finley, which in the old tongue meant “blond haired warrior.” As a child his coat was pure white and he had a temper that had been palpable. Now after three hundred years he was the leader of the people here. He was head of the ruling council that comprised of mainly the horse kin but was populated by all the species in at least one member. The horse kin had been created to rule as their intellect had been greatly increased beyond any other. Now it fell to him to lead his people through this dark time, for which Benedict knew he was up to the job.

  As Finley approached, he clasped his hands together and bowed his head in greeting “We are honoured,” he intoned in his silky voice, which conveyed both authority and kindness.

  Benedict did likewise “As am I,” he said “I come for help.”

  “I know,” replied Finley with a grave look on his face. “We knew this day would come but still we were not prepared. Somehow they took us by surprise. Our people are flung to the four winds and some are still trapped within Fire Mountain not daring to move for fear of capture.”

  “I am sorry my foresight could not have been clearer, with these last merging’s the future is clouded and all but masked from me,” put in Benedict.

  “We know this and do not place the blame at your feet, nevertheless this puts us in a difficult position. The council believes that we should leave them to their fate, we have helped them once already and in doing so it led us to this,” said Finley referring to Richard, Mark and Dorina.

  “You know the council is wrong in this,” replied Benedict, “our fates are intertwined. If the lands of Volnar fall the rest will follow swiftly. Brian wants the mark of Voldin gone from this land and none represent that mark more than you.”

/>   “I know this in my heart, but the best I could do was to get them to agree to let those that wish to help go, but I fear their numbers will be few,” said Finley with a sadness in his voice, for he was ashamed at how his people had become so closed off from the world of man that they had forgotten how they had lived and worked together before the great war had left the world in ruins.

  “There is to be a gathering this night, you can address the people and see who will follow you, until then I bid you goodbye,” Finley said, again clasping his hands together and bowing his head.

  Benedict returned the gesture saying “Until then,” but he knew that he would be lucky to get through to them. He stood there staring after Finley as he departed. He was troubled as he knew that without their help they would be hard pressed to survive the coming war and come it would, this much he did know.

  A voice came to him from his right. It was a voice Richard recognised, he turned and scanned the crowds of people there.

  He saw her - Rosemary. Richard could not have mistaken her as she was all to him. He walked across to her, feeling his breath quicken as the part that was Richard now took control. As he came nearer the talking stopped and the five lava women there turned to face him. Richard was about to speak when they all bowed, as if one, and said “We are honoured.”

  Richard withdrew then, for he remembered who he was now and allowed Benedict to take control.

  “As am I,” he said returning the bow. Rosemary stepped forward from the rest and addressed Benedict. “Did Richard find you?”

  ”He did,” replied Benedict “and he saved my life.”

  “Sounds like him,” she said with a smile.

  Richard’s heart began to beat faster as sadness washed over him. “It cost him his own,” he said looking straight into her eyes.

  “What?... No,” she exclaimed clasping her hands to her face and she began to cry. The other women gathered around her trying to console her.

  Richard watched her from inside the detached shell that was Benedict. He could not bear to watch her cry as he loved her too much. He needed to make it all right. He broke through the shell and spoke.

  “He spoke of his love for you at the last,” he said, “he said not to morn him,” and then he fell silent.

  She stopped her crying and locked gazes with Benedict “Did he?” she asked, a quizzical look on her face.

  “He did,” replied Benedict, with no sign of the emotion that had just been there.

  She stared at him for several seconds then wiping the molten tears from her eyes, she said, “This is Claire,” pointing to a woman who had remained unnoticed until then. Richard recognised her but said nothing. She bowed her head uncertainly and said in a nervous voice “I am honoured.”

  Benedict returned the bow “So am I,” he said. As he did so an image flashed before his eyes. The world balanced on a knife-edge and at the handle was Claire gripping the knife in a trembling hand.

  His vision cleared but he was left with a feeling, a certainty, that she would be important in the next few days, she may even be the key.

  Benedict looked Rosemary straight in the eyes “Keep her safe,” he said and with that he dipped his head and headed for a deserted section of the cavern where he could think on what he had seen and what he already knew.

  Rosemary caught up with him and walked alongside for a couple of steps before she spoke, “Did he die well?” She asked emotion laced through the words.

  Benedict continued walking without faltering or turning his attention to her and said, “He served his people well.”

  She remained quiet keeping pace with Benedict, and then stopped saying “Thank you.”

  Benedict continued walking leaving her where she stood, for if he stopped he knew he would tell her everything such was the chink in his fabled armour.

  He had to walk for quite some distance to find a spot where he would be alone with his thoughts and memories.

  He sat there for several hours trying to piece together the pieces of the puzzle he knew, but he was forced to admit to himself that too many of them were missing.

  He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t see Finley approach “The time has come,” he said and then he headed for a chamber not far from where Benedict sat.

  Benedict sat there for a few more minutes and then followed after him to try and garner support.

  When Benedict entered the meeting was in full swing and the noise level was far beyond that to which he had been subjected thus far.

  Finley was stood on a raised platform behind a stone dais and to either side, sat behind tables, were the other forty members that made up the council.

  Finley raised his ‘hands’ and the room almost instantly fell silent. Once it had, he addressed the gathered people. “My friends, today at our meeting Benedict wishes to address you.” He paused, waiting for the murmuring to cease. Then he continued, “I have given him my permission to do so.” Again he paused for the murmuring to cease, only this time it was louder and went on for longer, for they all knew Finley’s position on the conflict outside. “If anyone wishes to deny him this courtesy, let them speak now.”

  There was complete silence in the chamber. Benedict noted the skill with which he had silenced them. He had made it clear that to stop him speaking would break the laws at the very heart of their society, to be rude to one of their own was worse than murder and could result in banishment. Although he rarely visited these people, as he was needed in the outside world, he was in essence their kin.

  After a few moments silence Finley indicated to Benedict to approach.

  Benedict climbed the rough, hewn steps and stood behind the dais which had been vacated by Finley who had now sat down at his seat along with the other members of the council.

  All eyes were on him and silence was so complete that he could hear the water dripping from the roof of the chamber and as it did so each drop seemed to take forever to silence. He scanned the room seeking out any he knew by name, but could only see Rosemary at the back of the hall.

  “I seek your help,” his voice boomed and reverberated around the cavern. “The Voldinar are in danger and face a force some fifty times their number.” He paused. “Without your help they are doomed.” There was silence, complete. “Will none help?” he asked scanning the crowd.

  No one moved.

  “I will,” said a voice at the back. Benedict knew exactly who it was and looked straight at Rosemary. She had anger in her eyes and was staring directly at him. He nodded his head in thanks.

  “So will we” said the four women next to her, who were the same ones who had been with her earlier.

  Silence.

  “Thank you for your time,” Benedict said politely bowing his head, then he turned and leaving the dais left the chamber. As he reached the exit he was joined by the five women and they left in silence. When they were ten foot away the room they had just left exploded in noise as everyone tried to vie for the ears of everyone else.

  They continued in silence until they reached the main entrance through which Benedict had passed earlier, which was still guarded by the towering ant women. There he stopped and turned to Rosemary “Meet me at Volins Rest. I will not see my people perish,” and with that he left sanctuary.

  ***

  Claire opened her eyes then closed them and stretched her aching bones, several of which cracked as she did. She rolled onto her side wrapping the warm furs around her naked body. The air was warm and had a tint of sulphur to it, which was not unusual for this time of year as the cold winds, swept down from the mountains fanning the volcanoes and active lava flows.

  She slipped her right hand under the pillow on which rested her head and wandered at the softness of the down feathers that filled the cotton void of the case. She had wanted one of these for as long as she could
remember, but money had been too tight to spare for such a luxury. Now she had one and it was as good, if not better than she had imagined. When had she purchased it? Where had she got the money? She curled her knees up to her chest and brought her elbows in to meet them clutching the bed covers tight to her in the vain hope that they would offer some form of protection against what she feared would be there when she opened her eyes.

  Slowly she opened her eyes. She was in a cavern of some kind that seemed to be twenty feet or so across and the same in height as well.

  She scanned the space seeking any threat that might be lurking there for her, not taking in any of the features that surrounded her other than the size of the room.

  She was alone and there was nowhere for anyone to hide. Her breathing began to slow down, as did her heart rate, as the realisation sank in that she was not about to be pounced on and was in no immediate danger.

  As she calmed down she began to take in details of her prison, for that was how she saw it, as there was no door to be seen. In fact the only feature in the room was the ledge that she now lay on.

  She sat herself up on the rock ledge holding the bedclothes tight to her chest as she was acutely aware that she was naked beneath and no man had seen her naked flesh and the scars it held, except for her husband Jack, until those men had come. A tear welled in her eye and she chocked back a sob as the memories of that night came back to her.

  But then Richard and Mark had rescued her.

  They had been so gentle and kind yet merciless in their justice towards the men that had hurt her.

  Where were they? Why was she alone again? She didn’t want to be alone.

  She pushed her long red hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears and flung her legs over the side of the ledge and touching her feet to the floor she stood up, discarding most of her bed clothes except a sheet of soft cotton that she wrapped around her chest and lower limbs leaving her arms free and the excess flowing across the floor behind her. She took a few steps into the centre of the room, and stood there looking around surveying the room for anything she had missed on her initial look.