by Jeff Gunzel
The door opened, bathing the room in light once again. Shantis shielded her eyes from the brightness. She didn’t care who it was or what they wanted. “If you’re here to kill me, then get on with it,” she said. “We are all dead already. It no longer matters which one of us goes first.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
A few articles of clothing slapped against her chest. “So you don’t want to kill me while I’m still undressed. How noble of you, Brinkton.”
“Shut up! Put those on and don’t ask any questions.”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously but she did as she was told. “Are we going somewhere...old friend?” she asked, sneering. “I suppose it’s time to visit the headsman? Good. I assure you my death will be quicker than yours.”
“Shut up.”
“Oh, I see. Now that I’ve lost my stature as High Priestess, it’s off to the gallows to be hung like a common thief.”
“I said shut up!”
She was on her feet in an instant. “Or what, you traitorous dog? You’ll kill me? I’m already dead and so are you! Before the end comes, I swear you’ll be begging for a rope around your neck.”
With impossible speed, Brinkton dashed across the room, grabbed her by the hair, then turned and slammed her head into the side wall. The impact stung, but could have been much worse. The giant could have easily put her whole body through the wall had he wanted to. He leaned down and spoke softly into her ear, “Every precious second lost brings my mission closer to failure. You’re coming with me if I have to knock you unconscious and drag you.”
Using her hair, he yanked her to her feet, then marched her through the doorway. She resisted a little at first, but gave up quickly. As skilled a fighter as she was, there was no way she could match Brinkton’s savage power. In close quarters, trapped within his bear-sized arms, there was little she could do.
When they stepped outside, two cryton soldiers waited at the entrance. Each gripping a long spear, they looked at the two of them, then to each other with uncertainty. “By orders of Filista, I need to transfer the prisoner,” grumbled Brinkton, trying to answer their questioning looks.
“Exactly what orders were you given?” said the taller cryton on the left. “We weren’t told anything about relocating the prisoner.”
Brinkton sighed, having little choice now. “I am sorry, brothers.”
“Sorry for wh—” Brinkton’s fist smashed into the man’s face. It might as well have been a blacksmith’s hammer. Bones crunched into dust; teeth and blood sprayed through the air. The man’s entire face caved inward, leaving him virtually unrecognizable.
The second soldier reacted quickly, bringing up his spear. Brinkton grabbed both ends of the spear, engulfing the soldier’s hands with his own, pinning them in place. The giant drove his forehead straight through the shaft, splintering it in half and crushing the other man’s nose. With his nose destroyed, spraying blood down the front of his chest, the soldier’s eyes rolled back as he crumpled to the ground.
Without wasting a second, Brinkton dashed ten paces to a nearby bush. Thrusting his large hand into it, breaking several branches in the process, he quickly retrieved her golden longbow covered with red and green jewels. Four razor-sharp blades protruded from the hilt. The jewels flashed, reflecting the light when he flipped it under his arm, then ran back with it. “Take it,” he said, thrusting it sidelong into her chest.
At first she just stood there in shock, her grip loose on the weapon. “What are you doing?” she gasped. “You’ll be executed for this! Why are you—”
“You think I don’t know that?” he grunted, gripping the back of her neck and pulling her face close to his. “You begged me to trust you, High Priestess. Well, I do. I always have. Now I’m begging you to trust me. You must do exactly as I say. Are...you...with me?”
“Y-Yes,” she said softly, eyes wide and still confused.
“I know you believe all is lost. But there is still hope, and it all starts with you. Not all are loyal to Filista.” He pointed to the forest. “Rebels have fled to the east. That is where they’ve made camp, therefore that is where you must go.” A commotion was already building in the streets behind them. “You must hurry. Go now!”
She backed away slowly, looking over his shoulder at the soldiers gathering in the streets. People shouted, pointing to the escaping prisoner. “Come with me. Brinkton, I need you,” she said desperately, still backing away.
He smiled at her. For the first time in a long time, he looked like the friend she had always known. “I’m afraid it is too late for that,” he said sadly. “I will buy you as much time as I can, but you must survive, lest my sacrifice be for nothing.”
With tears in her eyes, she nodded, then ran towards the main path at the center of the village. At first Brinkton ran beside her stride for stride. When they reached the cross path, she broke left. Brinkton stopped, then turned right. He stood in the path, villagers and soldiers alike running towards him. He glanced over his shoulder one last time, making sure Shantis had gained a decent lead. I swore to you many years ago I would serve you to the end. My friend, I’ll honor that promise till my last breath.
The warrior braced himself as the first wave approached. One by one, arrows began to zip over his head. They weren’t after him; they were going after the escaping prisoner. My life for you, High Priestess. Paying no attention to Brinkton, two spearmen tried to run past him. With blind fury, the giant brought down both his fists, turning both their spears into an explosion of wooden splinters. The sheer force of the blows sent both men face down to the ground.
Now that Brinkton had revealed himself as a traitor, there was no turning back. Witnessing his betrayal, the next soldier rushed the big man. With a shout, he thrust his spear at Brinkton’s chest, but the giant easily caught the shaft with one hand. He gave it a twist, snapping the spearhead clean off, then sent it flying back like a dagger. It whistled past the startled soldier’s ear before striking its intended target in the eye. The first soldier paused a second, hearing the scream of pain behind him. The pause turned out to be a second too long. A clubbing right, followed by a left, sent him crashing to the ground.
Shantis ran as fast as she could towards the forest. Her feet smashed hard into the ground with each powerful stride. With arms pumping, lungs burning, she streaked down the street, soaring arrows impaling the ground all around her. She risked a glanced back to see if any were close. There were a few crytons in pursuit, but still several paces back. Turning back, she could now see the edge of the forest just ahead. Once hidden amongst the trees, she would be much harder to track.
Nearing the edge, her eyes caught movement in the brush. Not sure what to make of it, she began to slow down. There came an eruption of breaking branches and scattering leaves. Armed crytons popped up all around the greenery. Dozens of them, most with arrows notched in their bows. Dismayed, Shantis skidded to a halt. She was trapped from both sides. She threw her hands in the air in surrender. It was over; there was nowhere to run.
Her surrender didn’t seem to matter, though. All the crytons released their arrows at once, sending a torrent of projectiles whistling through the air. It all happened so fast she could barely flinch. She even felt the breeze as the perfectly placed arrows whizzed past her shoulders and ears. Hearing screams from behind, she looked back at her pursuers. A few rolled back and forth on the ground, moaning in anguish. Others stared up at the sky, lifeless eyes still wide open, their bodies riddled with wooden shafts.
“Come, Priestess! You must hurry,” came a frantic call from the woods. While she gazed down at the lifeless bodies, an urgent thought screamed out in her mind. Brinkton... She looked up in horror. Off in the distance was the warrior, her most trusted friend, being swarmed by villagers and soldiers alike. Weaponless, he swung wildly while blades and spears gashed away at his flesh. He fell to his knees. The enemies continued to pile on his back, all the while stabbing him over and over again.
Sh
antis wanted to scream, wanted to rush in and help her friend. Yet she remained frozen in place, watching the horrifying scene unfold. It felt like a dream. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. She could hear shouts for her to run, but they sounded distant and muted. Brinkton disappeared beneath an ocean of bodies swarming over him like jackals bringing down a zebra. Their arms pumped daggers in and out of his flesh while their blades darkened further with every stab.
It was all too much to handle, observing the butchery in her trance-like state. Suddenly, the pile of bodies burst upward, sending crytons flying in all directions. In a final surge, Brinkton exploded into an offensive flurry. Covered in his own blood, he swung wildly, missing more often than not, but still disrupting his attackers. There was so much blood on his body, so many lacerations covering him from head to toe.
He roared at the top of his lungs, bellowing out a single work while he thrashed about. It sounded like “run,” but Shantis couldn’t be sure. Her own screams were cut off when a strong arm wrapped her neck from behind. She kicked and thrashed, trying to get free. Several more hands wrapped around her, pulling her back. “No! I can’t leave him!” she cried out.
“There is nothing you can do for him now,” someone shouted in her ear. “It was his choice. If you don’t come with us right now, Brinkton’s sacrifice will be for nothing!”
After a struggle, they finally pulled her back into the trees. Using the substantial brush as cover, the rebels continued to fire their arrows at anyone approaching the forest’s edge. Recognizing their disadvantage, the attackers quickly pulled back. They would have to report back to Filista and tell her the former High Priestess had escaped.
* * *
“One woman?” said Filista, her voice eerily calm. She stood tall, nearly as tall as the man standing before her. “Let me do my best to understand this. A single woman somehow slipped through your fingers,” she paused to take a deep breath, her eyes burning like molten lava, “then managed to elude every soldier in the village, and make her way safely into the forest? Is this report more or less accurate?”
The nervous soldier avoided her condemning eyes. His gaze wandered about the familiar room. He had been in the temple many times before, seen the fine art that Shantis held so dear. But now it looked...different somehow. Everything was the same—the furniture, the fine oil paintings. Many a time he had sat here, talking to Shantis about the day’s events. He had always found her to be kind and fair. Now, standing here in this same room, he felt intimidated. “That is—is not entirely correct. There were...other factors involved. She did not act alone, Filista.”
If her eyes were lava before, they were now the sun itself. “Address me properly,” she whispered. Her voice was so quiet it was barely audible.
The man’s knees buckled, nearly giving out from under him. His voice was even softer than hers. “Forgive me...High Priestess.” He had to think about that a moment. Of the many times he had spoken to Shantis, had he ever addressed her by title? Was that the difference between the two of them? Shantis was secure in her stature, whereas Filista needed to be fed constant reinforcement. He shook away the traitorous thoughts, fearful she might actually read his mind.
“And who was the traitor who aided in her escape?” she asked, appearing much calmer now.
The soldier paused, not knowing what to make of this obvious question. Nearly the entire village had witnessed her escape. Surely someone had already told her? “It-It was Brinkton,” he stuttered uncertainly. “He-He set her free then blocked off pursuit. If not for him, she would never have gotten away.”
“And what became of Brinkton?”
Again, the soldier didn’t know what to make of her calm demeanor. Was this a test? The answers to these questions were common knowledge by now. “He’s dead. The other soldiers eventually overpowered him, but the incident was not without high casualties. He killed many of our men before he fell.”
Filista glanced down at her own hand, examining her fingernails. “And what became of Brinkton?” she repeated.
Chills rattled down the soldier’s spine. Exactly what answer was she looking for here? She looked up from admiring her nails, her cheeks pulled in as if she were sucking on something. With the corners of her small mouth pulled up, she appeared to be smirking at him. Was she mocking him? He just wasn’t sure. Dare he repeat himself word for word? “Dead, High Priestess. The traitor was killed, cut down by our men.” Now he could see the difference. This time she was definitely smiling, and blinking her eyes in an almost flirtatious fashion.
“And what of Shantis Sondere?”
The man swallowed, possibly seeing a pattern here. “The deserter fled like the coward she is. Ran into the forest, no doubt to seek refuge with the other traitors. Of course, they will all be hunted down like dogs!”
“Very good. Dismissed,” she said calmly, looking once again at her fingernails.
Relief washed over him, and he turned to leave. So that’s how it’s going to be, he thought.
“Oh, and one more thing,” she said. “Gather his remains and bring them to me.” He nodded, then rushed off.
Filista paced about. Despite her calm demeanor, frustration gnawed at her insides. Brinkton was dead, and of course she had already been aware of that. That bothered her far more than she let on. After all I’ve done for him. Why did that beast show her such loyalty? Would he have done the same for me? She knew the answer, and again, it bothered her.
She marched over to the silver food tray and poured herself a glass of water. This does not ruin any of my plans, only changes them. Constant adaption comes with the territory. She threw back the silver goblet, draining it in one gulp. She poured herself another while going over the facts in her head. Despite the soldier’s overly optimistic answer, she knew Shantis was long gone. She had protection from the rebels now. If her soldiers attempted to pursue her, even more of her men would be killed. She could not afford to lose cryton soldiers on such a pointless mission.
She walked over to Shantis’s favorite painting. It was a vivid, colorful scene of superb quality, of humans and crytons holding hands in a circle, joined together in some sort of ritual. Exquisite quality, she thought, running her hand across the delicate canvas, feeling the coarse paint under her fingers. Without warning, she balled her hand into a fist, tearing away the middle, then threw the crumpled piece across the room.
Only children would ever believe in such ludicrous fantasies. Crytons and humans joined together in celebration. Why, the very idea— She looked back to the crumpled piece, still rocking back and forth on the floor. She walked over and picked it up, then began to straighten it out. Once it was spread, she looked at it again. White lines crisscrossed the ruined painting, making the image much harder to see.
Perception. That’s all it is, she thought. There is no reality in this painting, yet it gave her some level of false hope. That is why so many followed her blindly. It’s nonsense, but she believes in it so definitively. Well...if a noble cause is all it takes, I can certainly provide that.
There came a rap at the door. She eyed the crinkled piece in her hand and let out a small laugh. No need to try and explain this. She placed it behind a dresser along with the old frame. When she opened the door, there were four cryton soldiers holding Brinkton’s torn body; one raising each limb. Even ripped and torn, it was still plenty big enough to justify four men. She looked down at his body thoughtfully. “This way,” she said, motioning for them to enter. “Follow me.”
* * *
“Keep moving, Priestess. It’s only a little farther,” said one of the winded crytons running next to Shantis. Even while running through the forest, over and through difficult terrain, they had insisted on keeping her completely surrounded. A living wall of protection in case of an ambush. The group had been running for several hours now. The strength and stamina of the crytons was legendary, but even this was pushing their limits.
Before long they broke through a final layer of brush, into
an open area. The section had been cleared of all trees and bushes. Several tents had been set up in no particular pattern, just anywhere there was space to pitch one. Tents were not a thing the crytons normally used, but had collected them off the bodies of merchants and adventurers who fell to the dark creatures in the forest. Over the years, the crytons had collected many such useful things; pots, leather bags, vases, and such.
One by one crytons emerged from their tents. Clapping and shouting ensued when they saw Shantis, still completely surrounded by the men who just didn’t know when to admit it was safe. The cheers went on and on, rising in pitch when more materialized from their tents to join in the celebration. Shantis felt overwhelmed. So much had just happened and she just couldn’t stomach all this right now. I allowed order and stability to crumbled under my rule. They should loathe me, yet they cheer for my safety? She grabbed the shoulder of the man in front, twisting him to face her. “Please. I–I just need to be alone right now.”
He smiled at her. “Of course. Of course. Anything you need Priestess. Everyone is just so relieved you’re safe.” He turned to face the growing crowd with his hands in the air. “Our High Priestess is alive and well. As you all can see, our mission was a success!” This only brought more cheers making Shantis wilt with guilt. “This is good news indeed my brethren. But as you can imagine, it has been a very trying day for our High Priestess. Please allow our great leader a bit of well deserved rest.” There was a collective groan while he waved his hands, gesturing for them to back away. “Tomorrow is a new day. Now that Shantis is here, we will rebuilt and thrive once again.”
Shantis breathed a sigh of relief when the crowd began to reluctantly break up. The circle of men around her finally backed away as well. She touched the man on the shoulder again. “Thank you,” she said, almost in tears.
