by Tim Chaffey
Noah assumed the stance. “Go ahead.”
As Aterre lunged at about half speed, Noah shifted to the side and grabbed his friend’s arm. He locked Aterre’s elbow and pushed down on his wrist.
“Not bad for a start. You’re a quick study.”
Noah let go of him. “Thanks.”
“Let me show you what to do if he slashes at you from the side.”
Parel ducked under a branch and stepped into view. “Are you boys ready?”
“Sure.” After picking up the knife, Noah handed it back to Aterre. “Let’s go.”
Continuing due west into the early afternoon, the group came across a narrow road running north and south. The forest had thinned, and the air warmed with more sunlight breaking through the canopy. Parel and Liun studied the scene for a few moments.
“There are footprints heading north,” Liun said.
Parel walked a few steps in that direction, bent down, and picked up the matching hair stick. He handed it to Liun. “Looks like your daughter left us another clue.”
“Follow Liun.” Parel motioned for the group to pass him and then fell into step next to his father, just behind Noah and Aterre.
“What is it, Son?” Varelk asked.
“Is this the way to Bothar?”
Varelk hesitated a beat before answering. “It is if we turn west after a while.”
When Parel spoke again, something in his voice sent a chill through Noah. “If the rumors are true, that would mean. ”
The older man cut him off. “Don’t even think about that. We’ll get to them first. Let’s pick up the pace.”
Parel said nothing more but jogged back to the front of the pack.
Varelk caught up to Noah and Aterre. “Can I ask you a question, Aterre?”
“What is it?”
“Those fighting stances you were teaching Noah — where did you learn them?”
Aterre glanced at Noah and then stared at the ground. “I, um, I learned them a long time ago.”
Varelk gave a small chuckle. It sounded forced to Noah’s ears. “You aren’t old enough for a long time ago.” After an awkward silence, he spoke again. “Tell me, where did you learn them?”
Slowing down, the three men allowed the rest of the group to move out of listening range, and Aterre spoke softly. “I grew up in Havilah, where I was part of a group called Sepha. They taught us how to defend ourselves. But I left the group after many seasons ago.”
“But you bear their mark?”
“You know about them?” Aterre asked.
“More than I’d like to. They’ve become a very sinister group in Bothar.”
“Do you think they had something to do with the children?” Noah asked.
“I hope not, but I strongly suspect them.” Varelk rubbed his chin. “Do all followers of Sepha know how to fight like you?”
“That was part of the training — at least where I’m from.”
“I was afraid of that. Our men aren’t trained to fight. We’re a peaceful people. Much of the reason we left Bothar was to get away from the evil and violence there.”
“What rumors was Parel talking about?” Noah asked.
Some deep emotion crossed Varelk’s face, and Noah felt again the chill of dread. “Some of the people of Bothar — those who follow Sepha — practice the dark arts.” He swallowed. “We’ve heard rumors that they’ve recently started sacrificing children in the name of Sepha.”
Noah’s stomach clenched. “How could. ” He lowered his voice. “How could anyone do something so evil?”
“This world’s growing darker all the time. When I was a boy, such an abomination would’ve been unthinkable, but in Bothar. ” He shook his head.
Noah looked at his friend. He’d worked beside Aterre for more than a year, journeyed with him, played and laughed and eaten with him. Yet it was hard to keep the accusation from his voice when he asked, “Aterre, do you know anything about this?”
Aterre scowled. “No. Never something so twisted and sickening. Like I told you before, I only knew about certain disciplines within Sepha.” He pulled his shoulder wrap to the side, exposing part of the tattoo for Varelk. “If it’s connected to such evil as you’ve said, then I can no longer be proud of this.”
The older man stared at the mark. “Why did you leave?”
Aterre looked away and kicked at a twig lying on the trail.
“Sir.” Noah’s heart filled with compassion for his friend. “His family was attacked in the night, much like the children of your village. He was the only one to escape.”
Varelk pursed his lips as concern spread over his face. He turned back to Aterre. “I’m sorry about your family. I hope you understand the reason I had to ask.”
Aterre met the older man’s gaze with a long, intense stare. Finally, he nodded. “Thank you. I’m sorry about your family too. We’re going to get them back.”
“A word of advice: don’t let my son see that mark. If he doesn’t trust you now, imagine how he’d behave if he knew.”
Aterre nodded again. “I won’t.”
Hiking north, the party reached a fork in the road. The sun was low in the sky, causing a small signpost at a fork in the path to cast a long shadow. The marker indicated that the trail ahead and to the right led to a place unknown to Noah, and the route to the left went to Bothar. Parel and Liun examined the paths closely for a few moments, and then, unsurprisingly, headed left.
Chapter 12
As daylight faltered, Noah and Aterre followed the Zakari on the wide path’s ascent through the woods. Parel and Liun exchanged a series of whispered conversations, and Noah sensed they were gaining ground.
Parel held up a hand and gathered everyone close. Keeping his voice down, he asked, “See that light up ahead? It looks like a campfire, and I’d be surprised if it isn’t the kidnappers.”
Noah squinted and barely identified a small orange flicker through the trees in the distance. How’d they spot that?
“We need to get off this trail, but don’t make a sound,” Liun said, and they all followed his lead. He gestured to Parel. “We’ll sneak up there and check it out. The rest of you wait here for us.” In an instant, they were gone.
Varelk herded the remaining search party members a little farther off the road. “Try to rest a little, but stay low and be on alert.”
Noah’s feet and legs ached from the long march. He plopped down and leaned back on his elbows, closing his eyes. Creator, please protect the children and help us rescue them without a fight.
“Noah, tell me about your relatives and where you grew up,” Varelk said. “It’ll help me keep my mind off all this.”
Noah sat up. Talking about his family made him long for home. Nearly two weeks had passed since he said farewell. He shared about growing up on the farm, and that he often wondered how Jerah and Misha were doing.
Varelk stood and stretched. “I can see you’re a godly young man, Noah. I’m certain my son has misjudged you.”
Noah shook his head. “I don’t blame him, but I will do whatever I can to earn his trust.” He rubbed one forearm vigorously and then the next to warm up. “Besides what we saw yesterday, what is life like in Zakar?”
As Varelk talked about his town, Parel and Liun returned. The eight other men crowded around them, leaning in to catch every bit of their report.
“It’s definitely the kidnappers,” Liun said.
“Did you see our children?” Erno asked.
Parel nodded. “Yes, they appear to be unharmed but are tied up near one of the tents.”
“How many kidnappers?” Varelk asked.
“We counted four, but it’s possible that there were more in the tents or standing watch.”
“Only four?” Erno clenched his fists. “We can overpower them.”
Varelk held up a hand. “Not so fast, Erno. You know the followers of Sepha are fighters. We have no such training. We need to be careful.”
“So what’s the plan?” Liun
asked.
After a short pause, one of the other men spoke. “Wait until they fall asleep, then sneak in and untie the children.”
Liun shook his head. “Maybe, but if they keep watch, getting close enough without being seen will be almost impossible.”
“What if we want them to see us? Or at least a couple of us?” Erno asked after a long pause.
“Why would we want that?” Liun scoffed, but Noah was intrigued.
“For a diversion while everyone else circles their camp.”
“That won’t work,” Parel said.
“Why not?” Erno asked. “It worked on us. The barn burned down, and we didn’t suspect any other trouble until it was too late.”
Parel lifted both of his hands and touched his chest with his fingertips. “Look at us. They’ll know we’re Zakari.”
Erno gestured toward Noah and Aterre. “Not if they’re the diversion.”
“No.” Parel folded his arms over his tattooed chest and scowled.
Liun looked at Parel. “Why not? It’s a good plan.”
“What about it, Aterre? Noah?” Varelk asked. “Are you willing?”
Noah opened his mouth but stopped when Parel cut him off.
“Father. No. We can’t trust them.”
Varelk looked at his son. “Yes, we can. They aren’t like the men of Bothar, and I don’t believe for a moment that they’re part of the abduction.”
“You want to place our hope on the shoulders of two men we just met yesterday?” Parel’s voice rose, and he stopped himself with obvious effort before continuing in a quieter tone, “Is that really a risk you want to take with your grandson’s life?”
“I don’t want to do any of this, but I believe the Creator sent them to us at the right time so that we can rescue all our children.” Varelk spread his arms, palms open. “Do you have a better plan?”
Parel stared off into the treetops for a long moment before relenting. “No.”
Varelk motioned to Aterre. “You don’t have to do this.”
Aterre nodded at Noah. “Yes, we do. We said that we’d do anything to help, so tell us what to do.”
“Erno, what’s your plan?” Varelk asked.
The tall man cleared his throat. “Noah and Aterre will act like travelers from the north who are heading to Bothar and need directions. So they will need to approach the campsite from the road. I think Aterre should do most of the talking since he sounds different than the rest of us.”
“Forgive me for interrupting,” Noah said. “But won’t it seem odd if we see the children tied up and don’t say anything about them?”
“Not necessarily,” Varelk said. “If our suspicions are correct, they were kidnapped to be sacrificed in Bothar. Since you two will pretend to be heading there, you can ask if that’s why they have them.”
“Right,” Erno said. “While the two of you distract the men, we’ll spread out around the campsite, still hiding in the trees. Parel and Liun, you’ll move behind the kidnappers, so that Aterre can see your sign when we’re in position.”
“What’s the sign?” Parel asked.
“We’ll each carry torches, but keep them dim and shielded. For the signal, get them blazing.” Erno turned back to Aterre. “That’s when you and Noah will position yourselves between the kidnappers and the children. Then the rest of us will show our torches. In fact, we should all light two of them. Since we’ll be spread out, it’ll look like there are at least 16 people surrounding the camp.”
“And then what?” Liun said.
“Then Parel will call to them from the woods and tell them they’re surrounded. If they walk away from the children without harming them, we’ll let them go. And just to let them know that we’re serious,” — he lifted his bow — “I’ll fire a warning shot into the ground near their feet.”
Parel jerked his head toward Aterre and Noah. “And if they betray us, fire an arrow into them.”
Frustrated by Parel’s lack of trust, Noah sighed.
Erno put his arm in front of Parel as if to stop him from attacking Noah on the spot. “If everything goes according to plan, we can rescue our little ones without a fight.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Parel asked.
“Then we improvise.” Erno motioned to Aterre. “You may have to put those skills you were teaching Noah to good use.”
Aterre nodded. “If it comes to that.”
“Let’s pray that it doesn’t,” Varelk said. “In fact, if no one has anything else to add, we should pray and then move quickly.”
The Zakari men lowered themselves to the ground in the same awkward pose as the previous evening. Noah and Aterre knelt, but this time neither copied the Zakari. Varelk offered a brief, but deeply heartfelt prayer, pleading for the safety of the children, protection for Noah and Aterre, and for a peaceful resolution. Following the customary silence at the close of the prayer, the men stood.
Torches were prepared and distributed. Varelk approached Noah and Aterre. “Please be careful. May the Most High be with you.”
Parel placed a hand on Noah’s shoulder. “I hope I’m wrong about you. And if I am, you’ll have my respect and sincere apologies.”
“Thank you,” Noah said.
An agonized scream rang out in the distance and Parel stiffened. “That was Elam. We have to go now!”
Aterre and Noah hastened back to the trail and headed for the kidnapper’s campsite. The stars sparkled in the early evening sky, and a crescent moon hung overhead. A light wind wafted through the night, evaporating the beads of sweat on Noah’s face. On both sides of the path, insects chirped and buzzed, all but drowning out the sounds of their feet hitting ground and the pounding of Noah’s heart. The peace surrounding them belied the gravity of their mission. God, please guide our actions and protect those children.
“Nervous?” Aterre asked.
“Of course. I’ve never been involved in something so dangerous. You?”
Aterre shrugged. “Definitely. But you can’t show it or they may get suspicious. Just keep praying and follow my lead.”
Moments later, they turned off the trail and trekked up a slight climb through the small patch of woods leading to the fire. For the first time, they clearly saw the situation. A moderately sized tent stood on the far side of a small bonfire. Three men sat on the ground around the blaze, while a fourth man stood nearby and jabbed a rod into the embers. The children were tied together to the left of the tent. They huddled closer together than their bonds required. With bowed heads, either in utter fear or defeat, a few sobs broke free. Elam rocked back and forth with his bound hands pressed against his upper left arm.
Aterre stopped behind a large tree several cubits before the clearing. “Are we sticking with the plan?”
“Yeah. It looks just how Parel described.”
“Okay. Then act natural. If possible, don’t let the children get a good look at you. They may give us away.” Aterre smiled. “Loosen up. Don’t be afraid to step on a twig or two. We aren’t trying to surprise them.”
Noah took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Let’s go.”
Aterre led as they stepped out into the open. They continued forward until one of the men spotted them. “Evening peace, men,” Aterre said.
The man stood and stepped around the fire. “Who are you?” His voice was gruff and threatening. While not a large man, his tenor indicated no lack of confidence. His dark, scruffy beard hid his mouth.
“My name is Aterre, and this is my friend, Noah.” He turned his right foot outward and folded his hands together against his stomach in a peculiar manner that Noah had not seen before. Aterre’s left hand enclosed two fingers of his right hand while his thumb stretched upward.
The man’s face and stance relaxed as he copied the unique position. “And what’s your business here, Aterre?”
Noah tried to make sense of his friend’s action. Is this some kind of secret Sepha greeting? Although he desperately wanted to make sure the huddled Zak
ari were all right, he forced himself to keep his eyes on the man.
“No business, sir. We’re on our way to Bothar for the first time and saw your fire. We decided to see if you might be headed that way too.”
“Indeed, we are.”
Aterre relaxed his stance, let his hands drop to his sides, and turned to Noah. He spoke loud enough to be heard by all the men. “I told you we were on the right path.”
The kidnapper who had been poking something into the fire suddenly joined them. He was about a span taller and at least that much broader at the shoulders than the first man. Even with just the light from the fire, there was an unexplainable air of ruthlessness about him that made Noah want to protect the children even more. “You say you’re making your first trip to Bothar?”
“Yes sir,” Aterre said. “Is it much farther?”
“About two more days traveling by foot,” Ruthless said. “Aterre, I’ve never heard that name before, and your speech is strange. Where are you from?”
Aterre motioned toward the fire. “May we join you for a bit and warm ourselves?”
“Have a seat,” Scruffy Beard said.
Noah and Aterre found spots on the ground across from the four men.
“I’m from the land of Havilah, far away to the south.” Aterre laughed. “And from my perspective, it’s everyone around here who talks a little funny.”
Ruthless relaxed only slightly and motioned toward Noah. “And what about your friend? Does he speak?”
“When necessary.” Noah elbowed Aterre and attempted to keep his voice from shaking. “Now this one — he’ll strike up a conversation with anyone.”
Still seated, the man farthest to the left set a dish on the ground, and his soup sloshed over its brim. “You must be traveling to Bothar for the big Sepha festival. How long have you been part of the brotherhood?”
“I joined years ago in Havilah, and when I heard about Bothar and the festival, I knew I’d have to visit someday.” Aterre tipped his head in the direction of the children. “Is that why you have them?”
Smiling, Ruthless pointed to his captives. “Them? Yeah, they’re perfect for the sacrifice.” At his words, a chill slithered its way down Noah’s back.
