Red Leaves and the Living Token

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Red Leaves and the Living Token Page 18

by Benjamin David Burrell


  "Assemble the captains of the militias as well as the commander of the special guard. I want them here in twenty minutes."

  -

  Hander's woke up in a dark room lying in a bed next to a window. His head was spinning, but he sat up anyway. He couldn't remember where he was or how he got there. His wounds were dressed, and his clothes were clean.

  He realized he wasn’t alone. Two figures were in the room with him. It was Bedic. He was sitting at a small table reading. The other, a small girl, was standing by his bed looking out the window behind him. She looked familiar. Had he seen her before? Ah yes, he remembered. She was in the room when he first met Bedic. His granddaughter. Moslin’s little girl.

  "Thank you," Handers muttered.

  Sinesh turned to him from the window and smiled. He leaned back to see what she was looking at. There was a mountain side a little ways off. They must still be in the mountains, he thought. Up on the mountain side something glowed in the darkness, partially obscured by the dense forest.

  The faint light was beautiful. It was a beauty he'd grown very familiar with. So much, in fact, that seeing it from a distance had a strange effect on him. It wasn't until now that he realized how significant the separation was for him. The Token was gone. The light shining in the distance was for someone else now. That hurt him. He touched his top shirt pocket gently, feeling to make sure there was still something there. It was.

  "Who has the Token?" Bedic demanded.

  "What?" Handers wasn't prepared for the question.

  "The Token." He pointed towards the pin point of light on the mountain side. "If Valance had it, it wouldn't be glowing."

  "Valance only has a part of it."

  "What do you mean he only has a part of it! Why didn't you tell me that?"

  "I didn't know it was important."

  The old man grabbed Handers by the shirt. "List to me boy, where is the rest of the Token?"

  Handers was surprised by the Cleric's intensity. It seemed out of place. What happened to the Token seemed irrelevant next to the destruction of the temple and all that followed. "We broke it apart before we got out of the Temple. Rinacht took a piece. Valance took the piece I had. And the third piece." He looked out the window. "I don't know what happened to the third piece."

  "Obviously, it's still up there. We need to go get it before Valance finds it. I’m sure he can see that light as easily as we can. And then we need to find your friend Rinacht." Bedic said.

  "I already had the Token. It didn't... I mean, I don't see what good it'll do running off into the dark trying to get it back." Handers said.

  Bedic pointed at Handers with the stern finger of school teacher. "You want to fix what you've done. You stop your friend Valance. You go get that other piece!"

  Handers sat up. To his surprise his head seemed to have cleared, and the incredible pain in his ribs had dulled to a throb. He didn't understand why the old man was so obsessed with the Token. He didn't see what good it would do. "I'm not going up there in the middle of the night looking for some glowing piece of rock."

  "You have another problem, my young friend. There's a very good chance that your son is out there tonight looking for that glowing piece of rock. Your son and Valance."

  "Oh really. And why in the world would my son be anywhere near here, let alone, looking for the Token?" Handers asked.

  "Because, my close minded associate, you, for reasons I cannot comprehend, were chosen to find the Token. And as much as I struggle with the idea, the fact still remains, you found it. And now that you've so successfully botched up what ever it was that you were chosen to do, that responsibility has passed to your son.

  "He'll find the Token the same way you did. Lets hope and pray he succeeds where you failed."

  Handers frowned. "What responsibility? The Token didn't find me, I found it! Besides, how would you know what it wanted from me?"

  "I don't have time to argue about this, I'll go by myself," Bedic shouted. "Sinesh you stay here with Mr Handers."

  "Bedic wait," Handers called after him.

  "There is no time to wait! And if something happens to your son. It'll be on your head." He rushed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

  Handers laid back down with a sigh of resignation. The man was impossible. How could he possibly know that much about the Token? He was just trying to guilt him into running out into the night like a crazy man. If he lacked the sense to wait till morning, that was his problem.

  He pulled a small object out of his top shirt pocket and stared at it. It was a tiny leaf, colored the same dark purple that the Token had become. Just a tiny fragment, but at least it was something.

  "What's that?" Sinesh asked.

  "Oh, just a little trinket. Something to remind me of my son." He put it back in his shirt pocket.

  "What happened to your son?" She asked innocently.

  "He went away on a trip. I was actually on my way to go find him, so I could help him get back home." He turned back to the window to watch the evening stars.

  "Really? My mom went away on a trip too. Grandpa said he was gonna help me find her as soon as we got away from the bad man.” She said.

  "The bad man?" He asked.

  "Yeah, the man who tried to hurt you on the top of the mountain. He put grandpa in the back of a carriage and locked it up. I had to break the lock off.

  "That's when we saw you. I told him we had to help you so that man wouldn't put you in the back of a carriage too."

  "Well I'm glad you did. Thank you." He turned back to the window. Down in the courtyard below their window he saw Bedic crossing the lighted square before he disappeared into the shadows on the other side. "My son'll have to thank..." He bolted up right and put his face up against the window.

  On the mountainside just outside the village walls above the courtyard, a string of torch lights blinked in and out as they passed under trees, weaving down the steep trail switchbacks. He strained his eyes. In the faint light he caught glimpses of Zo men on horses in between a column of carriages. Carriages with a distinctly recognizable design. Valance!

  "That looks like trouble. Bedic's going to run right into 'em." He hopped out of bed. As soon as he took his weight on his second leg he grimaced in pain.

  "What is it?" Sinesh asked as she climbed up on the bed to look out the window.

  "Stay here, sweetie. Don't let anyone in the room but me or Bedic. OK?"

  He limped through the door and shut it tight. He had to catch up to Bedic before he passed the village's night gate.

  -

  Handers hurried across the courtyard; he felt his limp ease the more he used his leg. "Bedic!" He called in a hushed yell, careful not to let his voice carry to far.

  The night gate was just up ahead, and there was no sign of him anywhere. He noticed a small, single person, door off to the side of the larger gate that was swinging gently on dry creaking hinges. He rushed over and poked his head out the door. The forest was calm and dark outside. No sign of Bedic but no sign of the torches either. "Bedic!" He called again. Nothing.

  The moon light grew in intensity as his eyes adjusted to the dark. A wide stone road extended into the forest. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Bedic insisted on running off; he should let him go. Who goes out into the forest the middle of the night?

  He slipped through the doorway and clung to the edge of the pathway ready to jump into the trees at the first sign of danger. The stone ended abruptly leaving a deeply rutted dirt road in its place. He followed the road as it turned sharply to start its first switchback up the mountain.

  Then, up at the top before the road doubled back the other way, he saw a figure, barely visible in the darkness, sitting on a fallen log. "Bedic!"

  The figure turned then stood up. Finally, Handers thought. He ran up the road. They might just have to time to get back out of sight before the caravan came down. Handers waved his arm at him, trying to signal him to get off the road. Bedic stared back, not u
nderstanding, then turned as if startled by something up the road.

  Hoofs clattered on the rocks above them. Handers ran hard. He hooked Bedic and tugged him off the road into the trees and covered his mouth. "Valance!" He whispered in his ear. "I saw him from the window." Bedic nodded in understanding.

  "Where's Sinesh?" Bedic asked.

  "Still in the room."

  "You left her?"

  "Would you've rather I'd stayed in the room with her?"

  A single horse clomped down over the loose rocks in the road. It passed them then stopped. Handers held his breath. The creaking of the rider's leather and the noise of the horse's breathing were exaggerated by the silence. He watched the riders feet, waiting for him to dismount.

  Another horse clapped over the rocks and stopped beside the first. The two men conversed in hushed voices. They were focused on the lights of the village spread out below.

  One of the men broke off the conversation and swung his torch down low to the ground. He dismounted then crouched over the foot prints in the dirt. Two sets of prints diverged from the rest and led off into the trees, off into the trees towards Handers and Bedic.

  "Go! Go!" Handers pulled Bedic behind him down the side of the mountain. They hoped over ferns and ducked under low branches charging down as fast they could. They could hear the gallop of horses behind them.

  The village was within reach. The torch lights along the wall cast shadows though the trees, lighting the forest in a warm glow around them. A few paces later, they were out in the clearing in front of the gate. Behind them a roar of hooves echoed across the clearing. They turned around and found a dozen armed men on horses fanning out around them. They backed up against the gate. The open door into the village, their only escape, only ten feet to the right.

  "Go! Go get Sinesh I'll hold them off!" Bedic instructed.

  "And how are you going to do that, Bedic? They'll kill you."

  The horsemen parted to allow another horse to come up from the back. It was Lord Valance.

  "Come now. No need to be that dramatic. We're not going to kill anyone," Valance said calmly, as he rode up in front of them.

  Handers inched towards the doorway, keeping his eyes on Valance.

  "I'm glad you made it to safety Mr. Handers. But then, why were you both headed back up the mountain at such an inconvenient hour?" Lord Valance asked, as he looked over his shoulder to emphasize the direction they were headed. Then for the fist time, he noticed the glow coming from the top of the mountain.

  He turned his horse around. The bright shimmering light was just high enough to see over the tops of the nearby trees. "Ah, I see." A smile stretched across his face. "All we had to do was wait for the dark!"

  He turned back to Bedic and Handers. "I apologize for distracting you from your purpose, my friends. By all means, please continue." He motioned up the road. "Lets go find what you were looking for."

  Bedic tossed up his robe and pulled out his dagger. The clearing filled with hard white light. Lord Valance and his horsemen covered their eyes.

  "Go Now!" Bedic yelled at Handers.

  Handers obeyed, bolting through the doorway.

  He heard Lord Valance yelling behind him. "You two bring him back!"

  What was Bedic doing? Handers thought. He stopped in the courtyard waiting for Bedic to come running after him. But he didn't. Was he really going to stay and fight them? "Bedic!" He yelled.

  Light flickered and flashed up above the gate, synced with the clanging of metal blades. He was fighting them!

  Then the light went dark. "Bedic!" He yelled desperately. Two large men stepped through the doorway, stooping to fit under the low door frame.

  Handers stared at them in horror. Their bodies were covered head to foot in silky black armor topped with horned helmets of bone that made them look more like beast then Zo. They drew long metal swords and charged towards him.

  He snapped out of his fear induced trance and ran with every thing he had; through the heavy tavern door, past the empty dinner hall and up the long stairs to his room. The clanging of metal boots closed in on him.

  He wiped around the corner of the long hallway and burst through the door of his room.

  "Sinesh!" He scanned the room. Empty. He slammed the door and bolted it shut. His injured arm caught his attention. It was throbbing in pain. The bandages were pulsating up and down. He needed to calm down.

  Where was she? "Sinesh!" You've got to be kidding me, he thought. Where could she possibly have gone? This was not the time for games. He looked under the bed. Threw open the closet. Nothing.

  The door rattled with a fierce metal on wood pounding. "Open the door!"

  Handers didn't make a sound. The pain in his arm intensified. The bandages. Was he imagining things? They were stretching.

  "Oh, you don't wanna make us angry, my friend. Open the…"

  The door exploded into a spray of wood and splinters. The two enormous men charged into the room. Handers backed up against the wall. The first soldier struck a blow across Hander's face with the back of his hand, knocking him down. The other kicked him in the stomach. Again and again and again.

  Handers started to panic. He couldn't breath. He tried to get his hands down to protect himself, but the blows were coming from all angles. He didn't dare move his other arm from his face enough to see where they were going to hit him next. Then he noticed the hand in front of his eyes. The bandages had been torn off. The skin on his fingers, his palm, was pitch black, almost shiny. Most importantly, it was healed. Completely.

  The soldiers had stopped. He lowered his hand to see them. They had apparently noticed the same thing he had. The bandages had unraveled down to his wrist, exposing a disproportionately large black hand.

  "What a’ you looking at?" The soldier drew his leg back to kick him again. Without thinking, Handers' arm moved to intercept.

  He shut his eyes in anticipation then heard a wet smack of metal against flesh, but he felt no pain. He opened his eyes and found the soldier's metal boot stuck in the tightly clenched grip of his black hand. How? How was his hand not broken?

  The soldier stared down at Handers, his face pulled in an odd look. He was probably wondering the same thing.

  He felt his arm again, felt the power of it. He flexed the grip of his fingers. They tightened down ever further on the metal. The soldier winced in pain and tried to kick his leg free. Handers held it firmly with almost no effort. The solider could feel his grip through a metal boot? He wondered. Or had he actually bent the metal? What had happened to his arm? The sensation was incredible. He could actually feel the muscles swelling. They were getting bigger. And there was another sensation. An itching desire to use them, to push them as hard as he could.

  He yanked his arm to the side, and twisted his black, swollen wrist as hard as he could. He heard a crack. The man's ankle and leg bent unnaturally, flipping him off his feet and crunching him to the floor.

  The other soldier drew his sword and held it to handers neck before Handers could get up. "Please!" Handers begged.

  The soldier lifted to strike but then hit him with the butt of his sword instead. Handers collapsed onto his stomach from the blow. His consciousness blurred.

  He felt the soldier's knee in his back. Then winced with the sudden pain of his arms being wrenched back. The soldier was tying cord around his wrists.

  "You OK?" The solider asked the other who was still crumpled on the floor.

  "No." The other answered.

  The soldier dropped his face down behind Handers' ear. "I look forward to meeting your son. I'll be sure to extend a warm, personal greeting."

  Handers gritted his teeth. He knew the man was just taunting him, but it still made him burn with anger.

  "Hey," the other soldier interrupted. "Let's get him back to Lord Valance. Watch his hand."

  The soldier kneeling on Handers, back put his elbow on the back of Handers' neck and leaned down hard. Handers choked. He leaned over and contin
ued whispering, "Listen to me, you fat waste, if you run, if you struggle, if I you do anything other than what I tell you, I'll open you up. Do you understand?

  Handers squeaked out a, "yes."

  "Good. And I mean what I said about your son. When we find him, we're gonna have a ‘hole lotta’ fun."

  Handers shut his eyes hard trying to control his anger. His face shook.

  The soldier noticed. He put his open palm on top of Handers' head and ground it down onto the stone floor. "Does that upset you? I'm sorry, I don't want you to get too upset right now. I want to save that for later when we find your son." He slapped Handers in the face. "We want to make sure you have something to look forward to."

  The burn of Handers' anger intensified. An uncontrollable tremble spread through his body, concentrating in his misshaped arm. He clenched his black fist, flexing his muscles against the cord that bound him. It felt good to push against something hard.

  The other soldier pulled himself up to a sitting position and stared at him intently. "Let’s get him out of here!"

  The bandages on his arm stretched from a swelling underneath. "Aaaaah!" Handers screamed. The stitches popped, hard bulging muscles ripped through the white cloth, ripping the bandages to shreds. The cord around his wrist snapped.

  In one swift movement Handers grabbed the man on his back with his massive black hand and threw him across the room.

  He pulled himself to his feet, huffing.

  The man he had just thrown was already up with his sword drawn. He charged, "Hrrrrrraaah!" He was across the room in an instant, bringing his sword down on Handers in a blur of motion.

  As a reflex, Handers shot his black arm up to block the blade. The impact made a sickening wet slap. Then the blade was still in his clenched palm. He'd caught a striking blade in his bare hand! Without injury!

  His rage was bubbling over, spread across his body uncontrollably. He gave into it, focusing all his anger on the sword in his hand. He flexed, twisting his wrist against the tip of the sword, curling it over on itself.

 

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