The Trials Of Ashbarn ( Book 5)

by Jeff Gunzel

  Yes, that is the key, she thought. They are all tools, and like any other piece of equipment, it is the skill of the user that determines the final creation. No one ever worships the hammer or chisel that built the mighty castles of old. Tools. Essential, but in the end...insignificant and forgotten.

  Before long, Morita stood before the narrow stairway leading upward. She trotted up the dark, lacquered steps, mindful of the torches dripping liquid fire on her left. At the top, she placed both hands on the circular, black stone door. After a few incoherent mutterings, her hands flashed a bright green against the stone, her eyes rolling back into her head. With a grinding sound, the massive slab rolled to the side, disappearing within the wall.

  Morita was instantly bombarded by a pungent, sour stench. The odor was incredibly strong. It even overpowered her own rotten stench, streaming off her body from her earlier bath of sludge. With a hand over her mouth, she entered the room and walked towards the metal frame embedded into the far wall. At first glance, it was a wonder how the bubbling goo filling the frame didn’t spill onto the floor. The brown, mud-like substance bubbled and gurgled, releasing a fresh batch of sickening stench with each nauseating belch.

  She reached out with her mind, attempting to form a link with the ghastly being. Despite her remarkable talent with such things, it still took a bit of time. The entity was alien in almost every way, and it took a fair amount of probing to form the mental connection. At last it clicked, like a simplistic latch falling into place. I know you can see what others cannot, her mind spoke in a series of odd sounds no human tongue could ever replicate. Give me an update. Tell what your eyes have seen.

  At first nothing happened. Morita couldn’t tell if the being was confused, or perhaps resisting defiantly. Her growing irritation flashed away when her eyes were assaulted by vivid images. Her eyelids flickered up and down in an uncontrollable reflex. The images swirled about in a blur of color before joining together in a single moment in time.

  Then she witnessed it all. The failed attempt on the Gate Keeper’s life. And not just by amateur thugs, but by the famed Tryads at that. Professional killers who never failed had been easily overpowered by that...thing. The vivid scene played itself out within a few heartbeats, then was over in a flash. Morita shook herself, trying to clear the lingering fuzz from her head.

  Once her head was clear, she refocused her attention on the gluey monstrosity. It seems the demon has made even more enemies. Powerful ones at that. It garbled incoherently in response. “Now, to find out who sent them,” she said out loud, tapping her chin as she turned towards the door. “And more importantly, how to use this to my advantage.”

  The way she saw things, information was nearly priceless. The only way information couldn’t be used to one’s advantage was to be ignorant of it in the first place. I must be kept aware at all times. Always stay one step ahead.

  Upon leaving, there came a garbled sound from behind her that she simply couldn’t make out. It came from the beast, which seemed to be trying to communicate verbally. “What was that, mutant?” she taunted in a high-pitched voice. “Oh look, it’s trying to speak.”

  The garbled sound came once more, a bit easier to comprehend. The bubbly voice sounded like a man whose head was being held underwater. “I’mmm sssssuffering. Please let...me dddie.”

  Morita’s eyebrows rose in feigned pity, her lips puckering into a sorrowful circle. She tipped her head, looking at the creature sideways. “Oh, my poor, poor father. Please, allow me to make you this promise.” Her face hardened, no longer feigning pity. “The day I no longer find you useful, I swear you’ll get your wish.”

  * * *

  The old woman tugged fiercely at the iron cuff around her wrist. Her long, gray hair was tangled around her face and neck. Greasy and sweaty, it clung tightly. Pressing against the iron cuff with her chin for leverage, she attempted wiggling it back and forth with her other hand. The woman was very weak and frail now, and knew these attempts to free herself were futile. I have to keep trying, the old woman thought to herself, attempting the same maneuver on the other cuff. If I give up hope, I’m already dead.

  “Please stop, my lady,” came a pleading voice from outside the cell. “If she ever sees you doing that, who knows what will happen to you.”

  Recognizing the familiar voice, the old woman relaxed her arms, allowing them to flow back above her head. The chains clacked away, retracting back into the stone wall. “It’s good to see you, Brenda,” croaked the old woman, her voice hoarse and dry. There was another, softer click and the caged door swung open. In walked a young woman wearing a dingy white dress, same as the other servants. Her long, dark hair was held up in a tight bun, a practical way to wear it while cooking and cleaning. She looked sad, carrying a silver tray with crackers, cheese, and a tin cup filled with water. She laid it at the old woman’s feet. “I was told I could feed you today,” she said, perking up a bit with the good news.

  “Is that so?” mumbled the old woman weakly. “Let’s see if I still remember how to eat.” Her short-lived laugh soon became a fit of harsh coughing.

  The improper joke brought a hint of a smile across the dark-haired girl’s face. “If only I could be half as strong as you,” she mumbled.

  “Yet I am in chains and you are not. I’m not exactly sure why you envy me.”

  The young girl’s smile grew a little bigger.

  The mechanism within the wall began to click while the old woman reached down towards the tray. “No, no, my lady. Save your strength. I’ll get that for you.” The chains snapped back and the old woman relaxed, back pressed against the wall. The girl took a piece of cheese and popped it in the old woman’s mouth. Then she took the cup of water and brought it up to her severely chapped lips, tipping it back slowly. “There you go,” she said, trying to speak over another fit of the woman’s coughing. “I wish I could have brought more for you, but this was all I could scrap up.”

  “It’s fine, Brenda. In truth, I don’t think my stomach could handle much more than this. It’s not used to food anymore.”

  The young girl began to weep softly. “I wish this nightmare were over. I wish someone would just kill her.”

  “Watch what you say,” the old woman whispered with a harsh edge to it. She looked out into the dark hall, half expecting someone to barge in at any moment. “The walls have ears. You know that as well as I do. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She looked around again, cautiously. “Your visits are about the only thing that keeps me sane these days.”

  The girl nodded silently. There came a loud bang from upstairs, startling both of them. “I have to go,” the girl said, suddenly a bit shaken. “I’ll leave the tray here.”

  “No, take it with you, as well as the water. Now go. I’ll see you again soon enough.” The girl nodded again before scooping up the tray and scurrying from the cell. The old woman watched her go, wishing she could stay for another minute or two. Although nothing had really changed, the room seemed to appear darker. The girl had only been gone a few seconds, but that was all it took for loneliness to creep back into her bones.

  * * *

  Eric leaned heavily against the wall, his thick, scarred arms folded across his chest. He waited patiently for the others. No doubt his actions would be questioned. It wasn’t their choice to make, he thought. I stand by my decision.

  The beaded curtain bloomed inward, clacking loudly as a few lines of beads bounced off the ceiling. Eric didn’t even need to look up to know whose angry entrance that was. “Are you trying to make my heart stop!” barked Jade, racing up to him. Eric almost flinched at her intensity, certain he was about to be slapped senseless. “First you deny my right to protect you, insisting on roaming about the village alone, making yourself an easy target. Then, by some miracle, you survive an assassination attempt only to—”

  “To have them released,” Wara interrupted, entering the room casually. Her slow entrance had been less aggressive than Jade’s, but sh
e looked just as angry. “It was an outside chance, I admit, but they might have talked had you let Amoshi do his job.”

  “I grow tired of your endless excuses to justify murder,” Eric growled, pushing himself off the wall. “Besides, it is me they want. Not you or your village. My choice does not affect you or the other villagers.” Jade’s confused expression proved how little she knew about the tactics being used this morning. It was clear she had not been told the whole story.

  “It no longer matters,” came a tired voice from the doorway. Kelus entered, his youthful step now gone. He dragged his feet across the bearskin rug. “The two of them fled the moment they were unburied. They disappeared into the forest like shadows. Our scouts have already lost trace of them.”

  “Unburied?” Jade mouthed quietly, her confused expression now changing to one of shock.

  Kelus walked up to Eric. He looked old, eyes heavy with fatigue. The little man reached up and jabbed a stiff finger into Eric’s chest. “I know you listen to your heart, Eric. You don’t seem to know any other way.” He jabbed him a few more times for emphasis. “If letting them go was what it told you to do, then it was the right choice. When it seems like the world is against you,” he jabbed his chest one last time, “let this be your guide.”

  Eric said nothing, his gaze drifting over the top of Kelus’s head. The others followed his gaze, then froze. They watched in silence. No one had heard him come in. The beads strung in the doorway weren’t even moving. How long had he been there?

  The same man, who not so long ago was forced to hold a scorpion in his mouth, drifted smoothly across the room like the trained killer he was. He stopped before Eric, his face covered with cuts and bruises. Eric held the man’s hateful gaze, unblinking. Neither made a move for their blades, neither looked away. Everyone watched in silent awe, not knowing what to do.

  The man lurched forward, making everyone jump at once. Eric didn’t blink, just continued to observe as he lurched again, his cheeks puffing, chest pushed out. This time, a line of spittle flowed from his mouth. The man brought his hand to his lips. One final heave regurgitated something he now held in his palm. He looked up at Eric, wiping his mouth with the back of his other hand. He touched his forehead, then his heart, giving a slight nod before tossing the shiny object on the rug. By the time it bounced once, he was gone. The strings of beads barely swung back and forth.

  Although the man was long gone, Eric mimicked the hand motion, touching his forehead then his heart. He picked up the silver coin, then held it up for all to see.

  Chapter 6

  Eric rotated the coin between his thumb and index finger, ignoring its sticky saliva coating. The first side was engraved with a tree. The colorless tree was bland and lacked detail. It had no leaves and could have easily been mistaken for some sort of common bush. But the second side was engraved with a highly intricate crown. A shiny gold, it rose into five separate peaks, each topped with a colorless jewel. The crown itself was engraved with black markings, each one too small to properly make out. Other jewels looked to be embedded along the crown’s base, still colorless, yet surprisingly detailed. One could only wonder what such an extravagant piece might be worth.

  “So what does it mean?” asked Jade, not sure she even wanted to know. “Does that coin mean anything to either of you?” She looked at Wara, then to Kelus. Neither answered right away. They just kept staring at the coin while Eric rolled it from side to side.

  The coin disappeared into Eric’s hand when he suddenly clenched his fist around it. Both Kelus and Wara flinched at the movement, as if it broke them from a trance. “You’ve looked at it long enough,” said Eric, his voice impatient, yet commanding. “Jade asked you both a question, and I would like to hear the answer.” An uneasy silence followed.

  “You’ve made a powerful enemy, my boy,” Kelus responded reluctantly.

  “How did she even know he was here?” Wara asked. The old woman’s voice broke with each word. Eric wasn’t particularly fond of the Circle, but had at least found them to be competent, and nearly unshakable. He had never seen Wara this uneasy. Wara looked at Kelus, her green eyes bulging in a shocked expression bordering on panic. “He can no longer stay here. You know that as well as I.”

  Kelus sighed. Yes, the stress was definitely getting to him. The poor man was really beginning to look old. “My boy, I’m afraid we’ve run out of time.”

  “What do you mean, we’ve run out of time?” Jade interrupted. “Out of time for wh—”

  Eric raised his hand, urging her to calm down.

  “We can wait no longer,” said Wara, her calm, confident demeanor returning once more. With her head held high and back straight as a board, her powerful words filled the room. “Let the Trials of Ashbarn begin.”

  * * *

  Jacob and Nima sat alone in the empty room, waiting for the others to return. It was so quiet that they could almost hear each other breathing. The faint clicking of dry leaves blowing around just outside the door offered a temporary relief from the awkward silence. Slumped down on a stool with a white towel draped down over his face, Jacob didn’t seem to care about, or even notice, Nima. She glanced at him from time to time, not sure how to ease his pain.

  “Are you alright?” Nima asked softly, no longer able to bear the silence. He shifted a little but didn’t answer. “I know what you’re going through, Jacob. We’ve all lost loved ones. Feel free to take all the time you need. To grieve, I mean.”

  “You know what I’m going through?” he hissed mockingly from underneath the towel. “You know nothing of what I’m going through.” Jacob ripped away the towel, revealing tangled unkempt hair and wild eyes that made him look insane. “Lost loved ones? You speak about her as if she were dead. Well, she’s not dead! She’s out there, alone in the wilderness. She could be in trouble. She could be hurt or worse.” Nima was having a hard time looking him in the eyes. Those wild, crazed eyes narrowed suddenly. “You think I’m grieving? Oh no, Nima. I’ll not waste sorrow and regret on the living. And believe me, Athel still lives. I know it in my heart.” He held a hand to his chest. “I know you don’t believe me, but I can feel her somehow, like she is a part of me.”

  Nima stood from the chair and walked over to the door. “Sounds to me like your mind is made up,” she said flatly. “You’re going after her, aren’t you?”

  A long time passed before he spoke. “I won’t let you stop me.”

  She spun about, looking surprised by his comment. “And why would I do that? Your life is your own, to do as you see fit.” She sighed. “To be honest, I truly hope everything I said is wrong. I hope you find her. I hope she is well and you are able to bring her back, unharmed.” Jacob raised his eyebrow in suspicion. “You heard me,” she said sharply. “In short...I am praying for a miracle.”

  Jacob stood up from the stool. “Miracles are my specialty.”

  “So I’m told,” she said, a sheepish grin crossing her face. “But despite your undeniable reputation for escaping tight spots, I think you might need a little more than luck this time. Gather only what you need, and I shall return shortly.”

  Jacob watched her leave then began to gather his things. I must travel light. Only take what I need. He leaned his staff in the corner of the room, throwing a coiled bedroll beside it. Can’t forget these. Grabbing a worn leather backpack, he began to fill it with basic items: flint and steel, vial of oil, a loaf of stale bread and a few strips of goat jerky. After that, there was just enough room for a single change of clothes.

  He sat back down and began to think. Jacob was a doer, not one for planning things out. Doubts and worries began to creep into his head. I don’t even know where to start looking. What if I find her and she refuses to return with me? He shook away that last thought. No, I’ll tie her hands and feet then drag her back if necessary. Jacob was growing anxious now. Nima seemed to be taking an awfully long time. He eyed the door suspiciously. What’s taking her so long? She better not be telling the others wha
t I’m planning to—

  The door slid open. Nima peeked her head inside, smiled, then made a motion to someone behind her. In a panic, Jacob leaped to his feet. “Who’s with you?” he whispered angrily. “You weren’t supposed to tell any—”

  She quieted him with a finger to her lips. “Calm down. Everything is fine.” Nima entered the room, followed closely by Amoshi. Jacob eyed the two of them warily. “Amoshi is going to join you.”

  Jacob waved his hands in disapproval. “Oh no, he’s not. I’m doing this by myself. Who knows how many days’ lead she has already, and I need to travel light and fast.” He looked at Amoshi. “I’m sorry, my friend, it’s nothing personal.”

  Amoshi leaned back against the wall. His sun-darkened arms bulged when he crossed them over his chest. He held Jacob’s gaze for a time before speaking. “So you’re afraid I’ll slow you down.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “A man of nature, are you? One who can navigate these woods with ease, find water where there is none, can tell which berries are poisonous?” Jacob looked away, knowing full well he had none of these skills. “Tell me, Jacob, can you even tell a deer’s tracks from a rabbit’s?”

  “Jacob, you need someone who knows their way around the woods,” Nima said softly. “He is at one with the forest, and his tracking skills are second to none. Even if you don’t think you need the extra protection, you’ll at least have someone who can tell you which way she went.”

  Jacob shook his head reluctantly. “But I don’t understand why you want to help me. You’re risking your own life for no good reason. I mean, what do you have to gain?”

  “Nothing,” Amoshi spat out, as if the word itself tasted bitter. He glanced over to Nima. “Let’s just say I’m doing a favor for an old friend.”

  “Alright then, fine,” said Jacob. “Assume we are even able to find her trail. You know she can smell us coming from a few miles away. How do we get around that?”