by Sam Ferguson
Jonathan peeked out of the corner of his left eye and his shoulders and arms relaxed. The other three snakes were gone, leaving only the big red one.
“Come,” it said.
Jonathan walked with the red snake, still jumping nervously whenever he caught sight of a new snake hiding in the grass. Despite the red snake’s assurances that none would harm him so long as he was under his protection, Jonathan couldn’t help but look over his shoulder every few steps.
There were scores of snakes. Some small, the length of his hand, while others were like the first four he had met ranging from ten to thirty feet long. They came in all sorts of colors and patterns, but only the hooded snake was red. They walked for an hour before the red snake stopped at the edge of a large pit. Jonathan looked down and saw only darkness inside the jagged mouth of rough rock.
“Climb on my back,” the red snake said.
Jonathan hesitated, glancing from the hole to the snake and then back down the hole.
He’s taking me to a nest full of hungry babies.
“There isss no nessssst,” the red snake said. “I take you to the king.”
Jonathan startled and looked up at the snake. “You can read my mind?”
The snake flicked its tongue out and hissed. “That isss the reasssson you are ssstill alive.”
Jonathan nodded as if he understood. “Do I sit on you then?” Jonathan asked, trying to sound natural despite fear cracking through in his voice.
“Ssstand behind my head. Hold onto my hood.” The snake lifted its massive head and flared its hood. Jonathan moved slowly onto the snake, taking a test step onto the strong scales. “You won’t hurt me,” the snake said. “Grab tight.”
Jonathan took a breath of courage and held the sides of the hood. The scales were rough and thick in his hand, as if he gripped something made of smoothed wood, or a thin stone perhaps. The snake lurched forward and Jonathan nearly lost his balance, but he pulled close to the hood and held firm as the snake plunged downward. Jonathan pressed his head to the back of the snake’s hood, not wanting to watch their descent.
Although the drop was indeed long, Jonathan needn’t have worried. The snake was able to reach the bottom before much more than half of its body had left the upper surface, so it landed softly and then sped through the tunnel.
Jonathan closed his eyes as a wave of hisses sounded all around him from the dark corners of the cavern. He hoped that they would all leave him alone, but there was still the same fear as before. Whether the red snake could sense Jonathan’s fears or not, it made no more reassurances to him. It silently wound its way through and around the tunnel’s various curves until they stopped in a large den that must have spanned several hundred feet in all directions.
“We are here,” the red snake said.
Jonathan opened his eyes and looked around. To his surprise, bioluminescent mushrooms covered the walls, bathing the den in enough light that he could see as clearly as if he stood upon the surface with the sun shining brightly. Some of them shined blue while others were white or yellow. They clung to the walls and ceiling, appearing as oblong stars perched upon a dome of stone. The ground below them consisted of a gray slab of stone, with some cracks and depressions marring the surface. A calm, but expansive pool of water glistened beyond the stone bank, reflecting the glowing mushrooms’ light and rippling softly. The water was so dark, that it almost looked black. It lapped up onto the smooth stone bank, wetting the stone and making it shine magnificently. The bank itself was weathered into a smooth angle that dipped into the pool almost inviting Jonathan to take a swim, had it not been for the many snakes he had just seen, he might have thought to do just that.
“Get off,” the snake commanded.
“Oh!” Jonathan leapt off the red snake and held his hands out apologetically. “Sorry, I was just looking at the mushrooms. I haven’t seen anything like that before.”
“Ssssilensssse,” the red snake said. “Kneel before the king!”
Jonathan looked around, and then realized that the red snake was the king. That was why none of the others had attacked. Jonathan bent down to a knee and bowed his head low.
The snake folded its hood and bent low to Jonathan’s face. “I am not the king, boy,” he hissed quietly, then he slithered away to the entrance.
Jonathan tilted his face up slightly to look around. The surface of the water shifted and rolled as something below stirred. A bubble rose up, and then the surface broke as a great, orange head lifted out from the water. If Jonathan had thought the other snakes were big, he was now awestruck, for they were nothing compared to the behemoth rising before him. The head was nearly as large as the cube boulder Jonathan had taken refuge upon. The neck and body were thicker than maybe ten snakes put together of the hooded snake’s size.
A white and black band wrapped around the snake’s neck like a collar under the skull.
“So you have come for the Kigabané?” a voice said within Jonathan’s mind. The boy noted that the voice was definitely not his own. It was much deeper, and reverberated within his mind. Yet, it was also different from the hooded snake as the pronunciation did not draw out the ‘S’ sounds in the words it spoke.
Jonathan spoke aloud, not knowing whether it was more proper to think his response or speak it normally. “Yes, to help me find my brother.”
“Your brother Jason left a long time ago to fight in the Murkle Quags, is that so?”
Jonathan screwed up his face and looked at the snake king. “How did you know that?”
“The Kigyo have the ability to read minds. It is called telepathy. The gift varies according to an individual’s station. The guards you met in the fields have no ability to read minds. However, my son, whom you have met before he brought you to me, can read thoughts. I can do that as well as delve into a creature’s memory. That is one of the reasons we keep to ourselves. Most other creatures do not have pleasant thoughts about our kind.”
Jonathan nodded. “If you don’t mind me asking, where did you come from?”
“We were born in the Murkle Quags, like so many other creatures, but our history is not why you have come. I sense you have an urgent need to return with Kigabané. The three men that sent you here, do you trust them?”
Jonathan shook his head. “No,” he said honestly. “I came because I didn’t see any other way to satisfy their demands. If they lock me in the stocks, then I will never find my brother.”
The king snake emitted a low growl-like sound as it swayed its head above the water. The pool rippled violently as it shifted its head and then spat at a small area on the floor where a large rock jutted up from the ground. Jonathan turned to see a covering of rock melt away to reveal a beautiful bow made of black wood hiding inside.
“Take it,” the hooded snake commanded.
Jonathan turned around and looked curiously at the king. “That’s it?” he asked.
The king snake offered a short nod. “I can see that your actions, though they resulted in the death of one of my guards, were motived only by self-preservation. That is enough for me.”
Jonathan couldn’t believe it had been so easy. He rose to his feet and walked the forty yards to the freshly uncovered bow. He bent down to pick it up and wrapped his hands around the smooth, cool weapon. Beside it lay a brown quiver with several arrows. He took those as well and slung the quiver over his back.
No sooner had he done so, than he felt a strange sensation course through him. A tingling ran through his hands and up his arms. His mind became warm, as if his head had been surrounded by hot steam. Terribly loud thumping sounds assaulted his ears, nearly causing him to flinch in pain. His eyes squinted against the sensations until he was able to regain his senses. Then, he noticed something strange. The hooded snake was standing before him, with his hood flared and his mouth open.
The urge to strike the red snake down came into Jonathan’s mind.
Along with the compelling thought, Jonathan noticed that the terrible th
umping sound was that of the hooded snake’s heartbeat. As Jonathan looked at the giant snake, the heart seemed to glow purple within its body, as if calling out to Jonathan to slay the snake.
Jonathan’s left hand slowly moved up to retrieve an arrow, as if an unseen power moved him.
His fingertips grazed the first arrow before he was able to snap out of it. Jonathan let go with his right hand and the bow dropped to the ground. The minute he released it, the sensations and urges vanished. Jonathan looked up to the king snake quizzically and then hurried to remove the quiver and throw it down as well.
“What was that?” Jonathan shouted.
The king snake bent low and brought its massive head close to Jonathan’s. “That, is Kigabané. It is a bow that the trolls made to slay us all. Its arrows seek our hearts, and the bow’s magic allows the archer to access unnatural speed and accuracy. It is a weapon that nearly annihilated all of my kin.”
“You fight the trolls too?” Jonathan asked. “Then why not fight with us and rid the swamps of the trolls?”
The king snake shook his head. “It is not so easy. The trolls hunt us, and have power over us. That is why we left the swamps.”
“What kind of power?” Jonathan asked.
“Our telepathy is a product of our creation. The troll shamans use our telepathy to control us. Those who are strong enough to resist, the trolls kill. That is why we fled the swamps. You think we like the rocks and the fields? Our bodies crave the swamps and the water. That is our home, but we were driven out.”
“What do you mean a product of your creation?” Jonathan pressed.
The king snake paused for a long while before he finally answered. “It was the trolls who created us. They used dark magic to morph the naturally occurring snakes in the quags until we became what you see before you now. For decades the trolls used us to hunt for them, to patrol their swamp for them, and to kill for them. Then, one fateful day more than two centuries ago, the first human made contact with the swamps. The trolls sent us out to find and kill all humans. The humans in the settlements far to the south called the event the Night of Fangs, but we, the Kigyo called it the Disgrace. We could sense the fear and terror in the humans. It was a dishonorable thing to force us to do. So, I led my kin to rebellion. Those Kigyo strong enough to resist the shamans’ magic fought with me.
“That is when the trolls forged Kigabané. It was a weapon to put us down and tame us once more. After losing many hundred kinfolk, we were able to overpower the troll archer who wielded it.”
“I was told it was a human warrior who used it,” Jonathan said.
The king snake nodded. “That part came later. A mighty adventurer stole the bow from us as we fled the swamps. He hunted us down for what we had done during the Disgrace. We tried to flee before him, hoping that he would tire of his pursuit, but he did not. When we reached this cavern, he continued to harass any Kigyo that showed themselves upon the surface. We hid for many years. The adventurer left, likely thinking he had killed us all.
“I don’t know where he went afterward, but a few years after that a few humans tried to settle in these parts. They discovered our den, and of course my guards protected themselves. This led to the adventurer coming back and trying to kill us again. I baited him into the cave and then I sat, coiled at the bottom of the pool. I knew the bow showed him our hearts, but I also knew that I could protect myself with the depths of the pool. The magic does indeed send the arrow to the heart, but it can’t travel through rock or water any better than a natural arrow. The magic has its limitations. When he came close, I struck out from the water, and we have been guarding the bow ever since.”
“Then why would you give it to me?” Jonathan asked. “If the bow is so powerful that it almost destroyed you, why would you trust a human with it?”
“Because when the trolls forged Kigabané, they made a simple flaw. They enchanted it to find the hearts of every Kigyo, but they forgot that the shamans who created us used snake bodies infused with enchanted troll hearts. That is what give us our ability to heal and grow so large. If the trolls had remembered that fact, they never would have made Kigabané.”
“So it will help me find the trolls!” Jonathan exclaimed as he looked down to the bow.
“It will indeed, for their hearts are the same as ours. Kill the trolls, and then we will take their place in the swamps. Only then can we be free and live without fear of being hunted and killed. With the trolls gone, then the humans might forgive us for the Disgrace as well. Your kin can live in peace outside of the swamp. Our two kinds can coexist, but not as long as the trolls live.”
Jonathan nodded, but then he recalled the two skeletons on the rock. Before he asked the question, the king sensed his thoughts and answered his curiosity.
“The other humans that have come here all wanted the bow either to serve their greed, or to kill us. You are the first human to come who sought the bow as a way to save life. That is why we brought you down to see it. When you fought the bow’s charms and refused to try to harm myself, or my son, we knew we had made the right choice.”
“How do I take the bow without the magic making me try to hurt you?”
“Leave that to me,” the hooded snake said. “You will ride upon my back and I will carry the bow with my tail. Its magic does not affect our minds. After I carry you out of our landsss, I will leave the bow for you and return here. Once I am far enough away, you will be able to hold it. The thoughtssss will only come when a being with a trollsss heart isss clossse enough to you.”
Jonathan nodded. “Then let’s go.”
“One more thing, noble warrior,” the king snake began. “When the trolls are dead, I want you to leave Kigabané in their den, so no human can find it again.”
Jonathan didn’t have to think about that one. It was a fair deal. He nodded. “I promise I will.”
Chapter 9
The red snake spent several days carrying Jonathan along the border of the Murkle Quags. Jonathan told him about his plan to go to Fort Sym and inquire about his brother’s last known whereabouts. He also told the snake about the patrol along the road, so the pair made sure to stick as close to the swamps as possible.
The snake was blindingly fast, and seemed hardly ever to tire. Jonathan often got the feeling that if he himself hadn’t needed to stop and rest, the snake would have been happy to make the journey without stopping at all. They covered a lot of ground while keeping close to the northern border of the swamp. The red snake was surprised that the quags had expanded so far, and was certain it was the work of the shamans.
The trees along the border of the swamp seemed sick with disease. A strange ivy covered them with black leaves and vines that sucked the vibrancy from them. What had once been a lovely, coniferous forest was now little more than a fence of dead trees overrun with ivy climbing up and moss hanging down. The damp ground squished beneath the red snake as they traveled. Small, white bubbles flared up from the soaked grasses and earth, confirming just how wet the area was.
Other than birds, the two of them saw little wildlife whatsoever. The occasional frog or toad braved the wide puddles gathered along the grass, but there was little else.
As the two of them traveled on for days, Jonathan ate frogs and rabbits, hunting them with the large snake’s help. The hooded snake, on the other hand, claimed to have eaten a cow only a few days before Jonathan arrived, and therefore wouldn’t be hungry again for at least another week. As they swiftly moved along the wet grasses, the hooded snake told Jonathan of the nearly mythical shamans the trolls had. More than that, though, he told him of the Kigyo and their wish to return to the swamps and live in peace. After nine days, their journey together ended.
The red snake slithered dangerously close to the swamps, lying low and next to the tree line. He pulled his hood in and looked back to Jonathan. “Thissss is where we part wayssss, Jonathan Haymaker.”
Jonathan stepped off the snake and put a hand up to his brow as he squinted in
the late afternoon sun. Off in the distance, he spied what looked to be men digging and working. They were building the wall that Lord Bingham had talked about. The young man knew the snake could not risk being seen. Still, Jonathan was more than close enough to finish the journey on his own now.
“Thank you,” Jonathan said. “For both the ride and for helping me find food along the way.”
The snake tilted its head and then turned to slither into the tree line. Jonathan watched as the long, thick body slid effortlessly over the wet ground and into the dark trees. As the tail slithered by, it unfolded and deposited the bow on the ground as promised.
Jonathan waited for the space of about fifteen minutes, wanting to make sure that his ally had ample time to escape the reach of the bow’s enchantment. Then, he picked up the bow and walked toward the workers. It took him quite some time to reach them on foot. The ground was not as friendly to his feet as it had been to the snake. He slipped more than a few times, but never fell completely to the ground. Still, it made for slow going.
When he finally reached the first group of workers, he could see that they were busy digging a trench and heaping dirt up on the side of the trench closest to the swamp. The men saw him, but none of them paid him any heed. They just keep stabbing their shovels into the wet ground and slinging the thick mud over their shoulders to build up the wall.
Jonathan walked beyond them, knowing that if he followed the wall he would eventually reach Fort Sym. He was certain that he could get information there. As he walked along the trench line, he came upon another set of workers. There were twelve tall, burly men setting pikes and poles into the heaped dirt jutting out toward the swamps. Another three hundred yards beyond them was the edge of the wall.
Seeing the end of the wall as it was being built gave Jonathan a great look at the barrier. It sat a few feet on the inside of the seven foot wide trench. There was an outer layer of stone and brick that was roughly six feet thick. Spikes and arrow slits were being set into the outer layer that faced the swamps. Inside of that was a reinforced hallway, with sconces every few feet. Then there was another layer that faced north which was roughly another three feet in thickness. Above the hallway along the outer edge of the wall ran a battlement which would allow archers to hide behind merlons and fire upon any who dared approach. The walkway behind the crenellation was almost as wide as the entire wall, allowing for maximum maneuverability.
