The Trials Of Ashbarn ( Book 5)

by Jeff Gunzel

  “They are renowned for their ability not to break under any circumstances, torture or otherwise. But since you seem so eager, here comes your chance.”

  Off in the distance they could see several soldiers doing their best to force back a growing mass of people. The crowd was eagerly pushing their way forward, trying to get a peek at the gruesome show. Two sacks hung from a tree nearby. Even from this distance, Eric was certain of what they contained.

  “You executed them?” Eric asked, puzzled by the odd strategy here. After all, they were supposed to be questioned, not killed.

  “Yes,” said Kelus, voice hard and emotionless. “We hung two of them while making the others watch. The execution was slow and prolonged. Our hope was to frighten the others into talking; show them we intend to do whatever is necessary. So far, nothing has worked.”

  Eric nodded acceptingly, a little surprised at how easily he dismissed these actions. How does one get used to death so quickly? When had he become so desensitized? He eyed Kelus, suddenly seeing him in a different light. This man had far thicker skin than he had first imagined. He was not afraid to make tough choices and stick to them. To do the unthinkable without blinking, only because it was a means to an end. A born leader, Eric thought. Could I choose between life and death so easily?

  As they drew closer, people began to point and whisper. Eric hardly noticed anymore. His focus was on the men hanging from the tree. They were wrapped up to their chins in brown sacks, the bottom portions damp with human waste. Their faces remained exposed, no doubt so the other assassins could watch the horror build in their eyes while they strangled slowly.

  Eric and Kelus moved deeper into the crowd. There was no need to push—people practically climbed over one another just to get out of their way, many falling to the ground, then scrambling away on hands and knees.

  Amoshi stood at the center of it all. As usual, he wore a sleeveless shirt, green and gray with white buttons, placing his thick arms on display. They were nowhere near as muscular as Eric’s, but plenty big enough. Soldiers worked hard around him, pushing back the crowd, making hollow threats as to what would happen if they didn’t back off. Amoshi didn’t appear distracted by all the attention. His focus was on the job at hand.

  At his feet were two exposed heads protruding from the sand. The two remaining assassins were buried up to their necks, facing each other in the hot sun. Their heads were shaved and covered in sores. Red ants swarmed all over their faces, biting and leaving puffy welts. Every few seconds, one would blow air from his nose, expelling some of the ants in a moist spray of blood and mucus. Many of the sores were beginning to bleed, leaking thin lines of red that streaked down into the sand.

  Amoshi sat down between them, crossing his legs. “Did you enjoy watching your friends suffer?” he said, tugging his own collar away from his neck. “I know it’s hard to imagine now, but those two were the lucky ones. I promise you both, before long you’ll wish you could trade places with them. That is, of course, unless you tell me who paid for the contract.”

  But these men were clearly resigned to their fate. From their earliest days of training, they had always known it would end this way, or in some similar fashion. From day one of recruitment, Tryads began living what remained of a shortened life. None would ever live to see old age. How do you break a man who has no fear? How do you threaten to take away what he has already lost? Amoshi understood this all too well, but still needed to try and break them. “Neither one of you has anything to say?” He leaned in close so no one could hear. “Good, it’s more fun this way.” In reality it sickened him to have to continue this. But it was imperative he come across as cold and remorseless.

  Amoshi glanced at Kelus, then motioned to one of the soldiers. “That one,” Amoshi said, pointing down to one of the heads, then smiled. Then he scooted closer to the other head and sat down. “You and I are going to watch. Don’t worry, your turn will come soon enough.” He backhanded the man for good measure. Ants, blood, and sweat sprayed across the sand.

  The soldier reached down to his boot, retrieving a small, brown leather pouch. He stepped closer with it, then kicked the chosen man in the head. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” the soldier grunted. At first, the man did nothing more than spit to the side. That earned him a second kick, much harder than the first. With little choice left, he did as he was told.

  The soldier bent down and shook the bag over his open mouth. Out fell a tiny blue scorpion, no bigger than a man’s fingertip. Its two front claws were bright orange and the tip of its coiled stinger was dark red, almost black. It spun in circles around the man’s tongue, confused and disorientated. “Now close your mouth,” barked the soldier. The man gently retracted his tongue and sealed his lips. He could feel the pointed, crab-like legs jabbing his tongue as it walked around the warm, moist cave. Its rigid claws probed up and down the sides of his mouth, searching for a way out.

  “Do you recognize that breed of scorpion?” Amoshi said softly to the other man, who was looking on helplessly. “Yes, of course you do. The rang-tail scorpion is very aggressive, possessing a rather unique brand of poison. Then I suppose you also know your friend here had better keep perfectly still. If it stings him, and eventually it will, there won’t be anything anyone can do to save him.”

  Amoshi began to graphically detail the different stages involved, all the while making sure the man with the scorpion in his mouth could hear every word. He described how all of the body’s functions shut down immediately—well, nearly all. Awareness and pain were unaffected by the poison. Even as his heart slowed and vital organs began to shut down, he would remain conscious through it all.

  The soldier continuously flicked the man in the back of the head, the little jolts attempting to irritate the scorpion. The buried man tensed with each thump, not knowing which one would spell his doom.

  Kelus and Eric watched in silence. Much of the crowd taunted the two men, some throwing handfuls of dirt. Still others turned away, unable to watch the spectacle any longer. “How many of your men did they kill?” Eric asked.

  Surprised by the question, Kelus tore his eyes away from the spectacle and looked up at him. “Well...none, Eric. My men were not the target. You were.”

  “I thought you said they poisoned the guard last night?”

  “They did. It knocked them out for several hours. We eventually found them unconscious, tied, and hidden in some nearby bushes.”

  Eric’s icy stared could have frozen a river. “It would have been easier and more efficient to just kill the guard, but they went out of their way to spare them.”

  “Eric, they were paid to kill you! We need to find out who sent them. There really is no other way to—”

  “There is always another way,” he interrupted. “They were paid to do a task. One in which they’ve failed, and that alone has already sealed their fate. Any honorable soldier will blindly follow his orders—die if necessary. I see no greed or selfishness in their actions, only blind soldiers who weren’t given a choice. But in the end, all men must make their own choices.” Eric brushed past the little man.

  “What are you doing?” said Kelus.

  Soldiers and village folk alike moved out of his way. They need to know who their target really was. Then I’m giving them a choice. Eric knelt down between the two heads. “Spit it out,” he said to the first man. “Do it as quickly as you can or it will sting you.” Amoshi began to protest, but Eric cut him off with a raised hand. A heartbeat later, the angry scorpion bounced across the loose dirt. The two captives stared up at him, faces solemn and stony. Not the look of men who believed they might be spared, but that of soldiers ready to die for someone else’s cause.

  Eric’s voice boomed out like thunder. “So you were sent here to assassinate this so-called ‘false god.’ ‘Deceitful is this coward, to pretend the gods smile favor upon him,’ you say. ‘Deceptive and greedy are his motives, or so I’m told,’ you claim. So tell me, shadow warriors, are you
two the bringers of justice? Do you represent the light? Are you ready to die because someone told you to?” He lowered his voice for an instant. “Do you still wonder if this false god is even real?”

  Eric stepped back and ripped his vest away, throwing the ruined clothing to the side. They saw for the first time his entire upper body covered in charred markings, the black scars forming ancient symbols and writing, completely fused into his skin. The tiny lettering crackled with yellow static while waves of energy traveled up his arms and across his massive chest. His eyes glowed a glittery golden shimmer. He unleashed his sword with an explosion of fire. Angry flames erupted as he held it up in the air. “Look into my eyes and tell me what you see,” he boomed in an inhuman rumble, pointing the blade downward. “Is this what you expected to find?”

  Screams and shouts echoed from the crowd, causing many to run in fear. For the first time, the two men in the ground looked terrified. Threats of torture and death meant nothing. But to see the power of the Gate Keeper with their own eyes... Eyes wide and jaws open, the men trembled, trying desperately to pull themselves free.

  Eric sheathed his sword, instantly extinguishing the flames. The energy crackling across the black markings ceased, and his eyes returned to normal. It was like turning off a violent electrical storm by snapping your fingers. The sudden calm was almost as unsettling. He bent down low again, bringing his face close to theirs. “You came to take my life and failed. Now I give you both the gift of life in return,” he whispered.

  He stood and turned back to Kelus, whose expression could only be described as thoughtful. “Now they know the truth,” said Eric. He looked at Amoshi. “Release them.”

  * * *

  “I don’t care what he thinks, I’m going after him,” said Jade, pacing about nervously.

  “No, dear, you’re not,” said Nima, calmly sitting back in her chair. She wore her long, black hair down today. It nearly hung to her waist. With a flick of her head, it swung back around her shoulder. “The Shantie Rhoe asked that you stay here, and that’s exactly what you’re going to do.” Jade shook her head in disgust. “Besides, Eric was never in any danger. I heard the assassins sorely underestimated him. He would have killed them all easily had the guards not arrived when they did. My dear, you must calm yourself. Everything is alright.”

  “He wouldn’t know danger if it bit him on the ankle!” Jade exclaimed. But she knew better than that. Eric was always cautious and rarely acted without thinking things. The only time he became reckless was when it came to protecting his friends or the innocent. On those occasions, he became quite unpredictable. “Oh, you know what I mean. An attempt was made on his life, yet he does not allow us to protect him. He walks out unguarded in the open while we sit here doing nothing! He—”

  “He is protecting you, my dear,” Nima interrupted. “His orders were clear, and I plan to make sure you don’t go anywhere, even if I have to chain you to the wall.” She nodded to herself as if agreeing with her own assessment.

  “Eric can take care of himself,” mumbled Jacob from the corner. He lay on his mattress face down, with a blanket pulled over the back of his head. “If you two would stop worrying about the mighty Gate Keeper so much and start thinking about...” His voice trailed off.

  Jade walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know you miss her, Jacob. We all do. I would do anything to bring her back, but she’s gone now. ”

  Jacob shrugged her hand away. “You say that like you actually mean it.”

  “I do mean it, Jacob. But there is nothing anyone can do for her now. She is gone, and our focus must shift to Eric now. We have a responsibility that must be honored.”

  “You speak as if she’s dead,” he grunted, kicking back the blanket. “Well, I for one have not given up hope. I’ll find her and bring her back.”

  “You’ll find what and bring who back?” said Nima.

  Jade winced at her insensitivity. Jacob only stared at her, his light blue eyes blank.

  “If you were to actually find her again, you would not recognize the beast before you. And more importantly, she would not recognize you either. More likely than not, she would tear you limb from limb in a state of animalistic rage. Is that your brilliant plan, Jacob?” Nima said.

  His expression never changed, yet his eyes began to moisten. “I see,” he said, voice cracking. “So it is best to abandon our friends when they need us most. Very well, I won’t ask for your help.” He picked up his staff and headed towards the door. He looked back at her. “May the gods smile on you. Pray you’re never in need of a friend.” He left quietly.

  Jade moved swiftly towards the door. “Let him go,” said Nima. “Sooner or later he’ll see reason. And let’s hope it’s sooner rather than later.”

  Jade stopped in her tracks, her hand still reached out towards the door. She turned back slowly, her eyes unable to mask her anger. “How dare you speak to him like that?” she hissed. “You know his heart is broken, yet he still pushes on. He clings to hope by a thread.”

  “He clings to a fool’s hope,” said Nima, her voice even and cold. “Jacob grasps at a dream, and like a dream, it will slip through his fingers like smoke.”

  “That is how you show support for your friends?”

  “He doesn’t need support, or coddling, or any other sense of false comfort used to soften reality. He needs to be told the truth, and that is exactly what I did. The sooner he accepts it, the sooner he can move on.”

  Jade moved in close, their faces nearly touching. “What if it were Amoshi out there? What if everyone told you he could not be saved? Would you accept that reality? Would you sit here and do nothing?”

  Nima’s mouth worked wordlessly for a moment. Jade’s stare penetrated right through her soul. “B-But it’s not the same,” she mumbled. No longer able to bear those accusing eyes, she looked away.

  “What if it were Eric, or me? Tell me, Nima, whose life do you value higher? Which of your friends is worth saving and who is to be sacrificed?”

  “That’s not fair,” Nima croaked. She was clearly shaken by Jade’s accusations. “No one has ever returned to their former selves once the seed takes hold. No one! You question my reasoning without understanding the nature of the problem. I feel for Jacob—for all of you. But all the efforts in the world can never bring back the dead, no matter how much you wish it so.”

  Jade sighed, her angry glare melting away. “No part of this journey has been fair, but we didn’t get this far by giving up.” She glanced back at the door where Jacob had left. “No matter what you say, I will support his ambition.”

  Chapter 5

  The putrid stench of rancid water and reptile waste hung heavy in the dense, foggy air. A thick, greasy film coated the brownish-green water. Rings of red and blue emanated out from the center. Subtle waves slightly disrupted the surface film while dark shadows moved back and forth beneath the filth.

  A tiny bubble broke the surface, followed by another. Slowly, a black snake’s head rose up through the filmy surface. The cobra’s red tongue flickered about, probing the air suspiciously. Its black hood fanned out angrily, hissing displeasure.

  The snake froze when a pair of soft hands rose up from the filth and caressed its thick, scaly body. Moving up the snake’s body, the hands gripped the creature’s hood, holding it fast. The snake hissed again, baring white fangs dripping with venom.

  Morita’s head slowly emerged from the murky water, her bright red hair slicked back. Saturated with greasy muck, it clung tightly to her neck and shoulders. Her body broke through the surface, her impossibly long tongue riding up the belly of the snake as she emerged. She savored every delectable inch, relishing each individual scale before reaching the head. The snake hissed angrily, objecting to being fondled this way. She hissed back, then thrust the snake’s head deep into her mouth. It thrashed and bit the inside of her cheeks repeatedly, each venom-inducing bite causing Morita to moan softl
y. She sucked hard on its head, like a greedy child who refused to share her candy.

  The perverse game went on for several minutes before she finally pulled it free with a popping sound. It writhed in her hand, desperate to get away. “Fine then, have it your way,” she said playfully. After a final kiss, she reluctantly released it. It fell back into the sludge then slithered away, unseen beneath the slimy surface.

  Morita moved leisurely through the toxic pool, each step revealing more of her body as she neared the edge. Her yellow eyes gleamed with delight. Rejuvenated by the toxic cocktail of poisons and disease, she stepped out of the water. A thin, oily film coated her naked body, making it glisten in the dim light. Tiny gills on the sides of her neck pulsed open and closed one last time before sealing themselves shut. Her forked tongue slipped out between her blood-red lips. Long and thick, it fell well below her neckline before folding back upward. Like an extra limb, she used it to further slick back her greased hair.

  It’s been years since I’ve felt this free—this alive. Her soft hands slicked down the sides of her oily body, then slid back across her flat stomach. That fool can no longer stifle my ambitions, the greatness I’m entitled to. Once and for all I have been liberated of his ignorance. One hand moved downward between her legs, swift and eager. I answer to no one. She began to rub herself aggressively, her hairless groin burning from the friction.

  For a moment, Morita considered leaving the room and grabbing one of the servants to aid her. Perhaps that lovely dark-haired girl who dusts the lighting. But there was simply no time. Her urges were too great. Her passion too intense. Morita aggressively rubbed her breasts with her free hand, moving them in tight, hard circles, pulling with a vise-like grip. Had her body still been human, they would have surely ripped away.

  As her self-penetration continued in endless, aggressive thrusts, her thoughts began to alter. Morita slowed down before pulling her fingers free from inside her. They glistened with wetness, both from her body and what still remained from the oily water. Her mind still lusted as it had before, but only in a different way now. Thoughts of endless power danced through her head, notions of her inevitable immortality. These concepts of dominance were no less arousing.