by Matt Moss
They only care for themselves. That is the nature of mankind. Simple beasts.
“The temple looks amazing,” Sarie noted as she sat proper in her seat.
“Yeah. Truly impressive,” Rico added.
Victor smiled, then looked to Rico’s arm that missed the hand. He frowned. “Would you like for me to heal you?”
Rico narrowed his gaze at the priest. “I thought you told me to go heal myself.”
Victor looked into Rico’s eyes and folded his hands, slightly turning his body towards him. “Right now, I’m asking if you would like to be restored. Nothing more than that.”
Rico turned away. “I’m good.”
So prideful. And for what? Victor cast his eyes down and turned back to the temple.
Cain cleared his throat. “So…why’d you call us here?”
They don’t want to be with me. Why should they? What have I done to earn their favor? In my quest for vengeance and domination, I have isolated myself from everyone. So be it. The master plan is at hand.
“I wanted to let you all know that we go to war in ten days.”
“To war? With who?” Cain asked.
“The remnants of the Order, the free men of the independent cities, and the tribes from the outer realms of the kingdom. This will be the war to end all wars,” Victor said, musing the last words.
“And you instigated this?” Sarie asked.
His eyes darted to meet hers. “No. After all this time, you should know that I instigate nothing.”
“Are you serious? You started this whole thing when you killed high priest John and plotted against king George,” Sarie shot back.
He turned his entire body to face her. “Yes, I did all of those things and more. But I did not start this war, or any of the past wars for that matter. All of those things, including this war now, were put in motion long ago—long before the rebellion. I am just the hand of fate. A pawn in a greater plan.”
She turned away from him and looked to the distance, towards the tree that had been cut down at the edge of the gardens.
“That would put their armies at well over twenty thousand. Maybe close to thirty. And Maximus has siege engines that proved worthwhile in your fight with him before,” Rico stated and rubbed at the healing flesh on his wrist. “Tell me, how many men do you command?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Victor said.
Rico scoffed. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that numbers don’t matter when talking of war. Sure, those of us who can soul tap and use stones can alter the odds, but numbers still matter. The simple fact that you say they don’t, makes me question what plan you’re holding.” Rico narrowed his gaze, waiting on Victor to reply. The high priest looked away, then looked back to him with a grin.
“Let’s just say, I have a backup plan if things go south.”
“He’s talking about using soul stones, Rico,” Cain noted. “Though, I’m not sure how many of us can soul tap. You might have five, six at best if you include yourself.”
Victor looked to Sarie, curious. You haven’t yet told them about the soul stone that I plan on destroying the world with, have you, Sarie?
“I’d say the Order has about the same amount who can soul tap,” Rico replied. “Which brings us back to the numbers. How many do we have?”
Victor sighed and rolled his head in exhaustion. “If you really must know. Over fifty thousand have taken the mark and are able to bear arms.” He noticed the surprise on Rico’s face. “There. Does that make you feel better?”
Rico scratched his head. “That’s…impressive. Didn’t think there were that many. If we go to war in ten days, how will you gather the army if it’s scattered throughout the kingdom?”
“I’ve already used my power and sent a message to every believer through the mark. The majority should be here within five days’ time. After provisions and equipment are dispersed, we march to war. Though, it won’t be much of one after Maximus sets the trap and betrays their allegiance.” Victor chuckled in irony. “So much for the governor’s honorable reputation.”
All three went silent after hearing the plans, each keeping their thoughts to themselves, their eyes either vacant or staring at him in disbelief. Victor noticed the distant look in Cain’s eyes and wondered if he, too, would betray him as Sarie had. He looked at Sarie, her crimson hair blowing softly around her. I loved you. I still love you. And though I don’t know who you’ve met with or what you have done, I can feel your deceit deep inside me. Just know that whatever it is won’t work. I cannot be stopped. Seemingly hearing his thoughts, she turned to him and gave her best smile. “I’m going with you. I’ll march by your side this time,” she stated, then walked away.
Cain and Rico looked for Victor to respond after she left. Victor shrugged. “Perhaps it’s best that she does tag along. Seeing her will invigorate our armies.”
“You could lose her. The battlefield is no place for someone who’s never experienced war before. Regardless of whether or not your trap works, war, as you know, cares not for who lives and who dies,” Rico stated.
Victor smiled at such wisdom and looked to Rico’s missing hand again. “Last chance. It would be a shame to not perform at your best on the field of battle. Let me restore you so you can fight with the might of a hundred men.”
Rico looked down, rubbed his wrist. “I’ll manage. Thanks, anyway.”
“So be it.”
“Damn, I forgot,” Cain said to himself in revelation. He looked at Victor and Rico. “I was supposed to sail with Rat to Stonebridge and help him deliver a shipment of drudge. I’m so stupid,” he said, cursing himself. “I can meet him there if I make the ride now.”
“You better make haste, then,” Victor noted.
Cain nodded. “I’ll be back in six, maybe seven days—plenty of time before we march to war.” He backpedaled as he spoke. “See you all soon.” He turned and ran.
Victor watched him leave, pursed his lips, raised his chin high. Another lie.
Rico flexed his grip, stretched his fingers. “That leaves me with a week to drink as much whiskey as possible,” he stated. “Better get started.”
“Is that how you’ve always prepared for a war?” Victor asked, curious.
“No,” Rico replied as a matter of fact, walking away, leaving Victor alone.
My three closest friends...
Victor looked up to the sky and closed his eyes. In his mind, he could see the future unfold itself and pave way to a new world.
But not this world…
Death brings forth life. The balance must exist. Almighty, guide me.
THIRTY-TWO
After saying goodbye to Torin and his aunt Clara shortly after leaving Hayfork, Arkin left for Mills River to meet with king Hobba and his army. It made him happy that Clara left with Torin. She would be safe at the camp with him and the rest of the Order.
On the road, he passed more people than he’d ever seen before. “What’s everyone traveling for?” he asked one man.
“Haven’t you heard? The Religion is going to war. If you’re a believer, you should come join us,” the man replied.
“What if he’s a heretic,” a woman stated.
“Then he’d better be moving on about his business before anyone finds out,” the man said.
“We’d better be moving on. Let’s go,” she said, and pulled his arm.
Arkin wondered how word had traveled so fast, only being a day since plans were made with Maximus. The mark. Victor communicated through the shards of soul stones.
He grit his teeth and pushed the horse faster.
Two more days had passed and Arkin barely slept, only taking time to rest and nourish the horse so it didn’t kill over with exhaustion. When he saw Hobba standing on the bank of the river, his spirit rejoiced.
“What took you so long? Are men of the west always late?” Hobba said in jest.
Arkin embraced his friend. “Where’s everyone else?”
“King Hobba
is a great and fierce warrior. He is all you need,” Hobba said, and pounded his chest with a fist.
“Are men of the east always so humorous?”
Hobba smiled at Arkin, then whistled. From behind the trees, on the other side of the river, Hobba’s people lined the bank, dressed for war.
Arkin looked into his friend’s eyes. “I know you’ve come a long way. Now I’m asking you to go a little more because time is of the essence. Can you ride hard for another four days?”
Hobba rolled his head, stretching his neck. He looked down and grumbled. “At least there’s no snow. I hate snow.”
Arkin laughed and slapped the king on the shoulder. “The journey is almost over. Ride with me for just a bit longer.”
THIRTY-THREE
At the Order’s camp, snow began to fall.
Lyla didn’t mind the weather, but it did make training a little more difficult.
“It is good for them,” Joko told her as they watched the recruits spar. “It makes them stronger and ready for any condition.”
“Mind your footing,” she called out, noticing too many slips on the wet surface. She spoke to Joko. “Do you think they’re ready?”
Joko shrugged. “Who can say? The question can only be answered by them.”
“You sound a lot like Moses sometimes,” she said, drawing a look of pride from her mentor. She cupped her hands around her mouth, addressing the trainees. “That’s enough for today.” She walked to warm herself by the fire, meeting Torin there. Joko extended his hands to the heat. “In my land, it doesn’t snow. Even though Moses trained me in the snow, I still do not like it.”
“Makes you tough,” Torin stated, and took a drink from a waterskin.
“It makes me hungry,” Lyla added and looked to Torin. “Aren’t you supposed to be cooking the hog from yesterday?”
Torin looked at her, eyes wide, and threw his hands up. “Well, I guess I missed that meeting. Who says I gotta be the one cooking all the time?”
“Your food tastes the best,” Joko said.
Torin raised a brow at him. “You’re damn right it does. But that doesn’t mean I gotta be the one feeding everyone else. Do you know how hard it is to keep a hundred mouths fed everyday?”
Lyla crossed her arms. “Yeah, I do. Who do you think was taking care of the place while you were gone?”
“Jamesh?” Torin said.
She rolled her eyes.
Torin jumped up from his log seat. “Fine. I’ll grab the meat and get to it, then. Better than sitting around here, listening to you two fuss.”
Lyla and Joko shared a laugh after he left, and they continued to warm themselves by the fire. She looked around at the gentle falling snow, at the tall pines and their branches made white and heavy. “Snow is magical. Peaceful. Silent,” she mused.
“Cold. You did not say cold,” Joko said. “And wet. These things I do not like. Give me hot, dry land, and sun overhead. That is magic to me.”
She smiled at him and shook her head. Her eyes went to a shadow moving through the snow in the distance. It walked alone, trudging towards the camp. “Joko,” she said and pointed. They walked to meet whoever it was. The stranger removed the cloth that covered his face. “Hello, Lyla,” Cain said. Seeing her reaction, he held his hands up in defense. “Wait a min…”
She slapped him, hard. “Cain? How dare you show your face here again after what you did. Are you insane? Do you know what Torin will do to you if he sees you?”
“I was more worried about what you would do to me,” Cain replied. He held his hands up to block another slap. “Okay, I’m sorry. Look, I messed up.”
“That’s an understatement,” she growled.
“Who is this man?” Joko asked. “I do not like him.”
“You don’t even know me,” Cain said in defense.
Lyla shoved him back. “You need to leave. Now.”
Cain took a step towards her. “You have to listen to me. I bring warning.”
“Who’s that?” Torin shouted from back at the fire and started placing the meat on the spit.
Lyla pushed Cain again. “Leave. Now.”
“His name is Cain,” Joko shouted back to Torin.
“Son of a bitch,” Torin cursed and dropped the meat to the ground. He stomped towards them with clenched fists.
“Oh, shit,” Cain said with fear in his eyes as he saw the big man coming at him. He looked to Lyla. “Listen, Maximus is going to betray you.”
“What?” Lyla said.
Cain looked deep into her eyes. “On the battlefield, Maximus is going to betray you all. He’s on Victor’s side. And Victor knows…” His voice cut out as Torin’s hand gripped around his neck. With eyes wide, he looked to Torin, then back to Lyla.
“I can’t believe it. You got some balls to come back here, boy,” Torin told him, squeezing tighter.
“Torin, set him down,” Lyla said. The big man didn’t let go. “Torin!”
“What?” he growled.
“Let him speak.”
“Only lies will spill from his mouth.”
She pried Torin’s hand away and shoved his arm back. “Just listen, then do whatever you like to him.”
Cain gasped for air.
Torin pressed a finger hard against Cain’s chest. “You got about ten seconds of life left. Make it count.”
After collecting himself, Cain spoke. “Maximus will betray you. He’s with Victor. You must believe me.”
“Lies,” Torin growled.
“Why would he be lying?” Lyla asked.
“Because Victor is afraid of our numbers and wants to create division between us. Do not listen to a word this worm has to say.”
“I’m telling the truth.” Cain looked into Lyla’s eyes and took a small step towards her. “I came back to warn you. Please, Lyla. I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”
Lyla searched him, finding him sincere and earnest. She knew that Cain wasn’t much for playing false—not a great actor—but she also remembered how he betrayed them before, stealing from them after they welcomed him back into their lives.
“I cannot tell if this man is truthful or not,” Joko said, narrowing his eyes at Cain. He looked to Lyla and Torin. “What if he doesn’t lie?”
“I’m not even considering it,” Torin said, and shoved Cain back. Cain stumbled, his head down, not wanting to look into Torin’s eyes, giving the big man more cause to beat him to death.
“Torin. What if?” Joko asked in a stern tone.
Torin snapped around. “If Maximus is going to betray us, then we will be ready for it. Whatever they have planned, if they have a plan, won’t work. We’re not going to lose this time.”
“You’re always saying that we will be ready. But we never have a plan. You assume that we just act accordingly when something happens, in hopes that it counters whatever doesn’t go to plan. It doesn’t work that way, Torin. We must assume, and prepare for the worst,” Lyla stated. Her words cut Torin, and the big man slouched, searching for words as he thought about hers. He spat to the side and pointed at Cain. “Thanks for the warning, brother. Leave now. I’ll see you on the field of battle soon enough.”
Cain stared at Lyla, waiting on her to say something on his behalf. After a moment, Cain cast his eyes down, turned and walked away, disappearing back behind the white veil of the falling snow.
“Torin,” Lyla said, grabbing his arm as the big man stormed back towards the camp.
He stopped. “I never thought I would say this.”
“What?” she asked.
“I’ve lost my damn appetite.” The big man stormed back towards the camp, past the fire and into his hut.
Joko put a hand on Lyla’s shoulder. “It is okay. I am an expert at cooking.”
She smiled at her mentor and he walked to tend to the meat. Lyla turned her eyes back to where Cain left and scanned through the snow. Her eyes began to blur as she thought about his warning, the world around her in slow motion, void of
color, cold and white.
She placed a hand on her stomach. “It’s going to be alright.”
Under thick blankets of fur, Lyla slept ,mm’soundly in the silent camp. Outside, the snow had stopped falling and nothing stirred in the forest—as if the woods themselves were lulled to sleep by the peaceful, thick, white blanket.
The door eased open.
Cain entered the hut and closed the door behind him. He crept towards Lyla, keeping his steps light and silent. He walked beside her bed and knelt down beside it, content with passing the time by watching her sleep. He leaned in close, nearly touching the top of her head with his face, and inhaled her in. He squeezed his eyes shut with the pain that racked his soul by being so close but still not able to have her. He knew that she would never be his. Yet, he loved her so. Like a dagger in his heart, he would bear the pain.
The back of his hand brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. She moved her lips at the touch and slightly rolled her head. He marveled at her beauty and whispered a prayer for her safety.
Her eyes snapped open.
She shot up, pulled a knife, and put it to his throat. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He eased back from the knife and touched her hand. “Please, forgive me. I had to see you once more.” His eyes began to tear up as he stared into hers. “We can disappear, you and me. Leave all this behind us. Please…”
“You’re insane. Get out,” she told him, scrambling to her feet, pressing the edge of the blade to his neck and causing him to rise with her.
“Lyla, you’re going to die if you don’t run. Everyone will die, believe me. There’s no winning this war. There’s no stopping him.”
“I’d rather die fighting than run like a coward,” she stated. Something struck her from within, and she breathed deep to control herself.
Cain noticed the distant look in her eyes as she tried to control her feelings. He looked down at her stomach and to the hand that cradled her womb. His eyes widened at her in revelation. “You’re pregnant.”
