JACOB’S REIGN
VOLUME 1
THE REIGN BEGINS
BY JONATHAN GIDDINGE
Inspired by
‘Heavy Collar and the Ghost Girl’
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 Jonathan Giddinge
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher/author.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, locations, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is merely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Chapter One
It was late summer when my people gathered in the bowl and watched as a pyre, which held the remains of the Chief Leader, was prepared.
The year was two-hundred-fifty A.W. We started the calendar over after the Great War, mostly because the war lasted so long and destroyed so much, that it just made sense to reset everything and start over fresh. Before the great war, our ancestors left the earth and ascended to Zion. We call on our ancestors for guidance and we look to the heavens for answers. When we look to the sky, we see Zion, a cluster of bright stars that slowly circle the earth watching everything we do.
It is said that one day, our ancestors will return and bring peace and prosperity to all the camps, clans and tribes. The people of my camp were known as the ‘Valley People’. We came together after the war in a place they called “Vegas”. It was said that all the people of the world once live in that very spot. They would gather to enjoy life and relax. The fathers said that there were once great buildings that stretched to the heavens and were filled with people from every walk of life and from every nation.
My camp sat on the edge of a lake bed. It was large and surrounded by shrubs, bushes and tall grass. The plant life was very dry, only receiving rainfall a few times a year.
Many years before I was born, our land became uninhabitable and after years of searching, our Chief Leader led our people to the lake. Our people had moved many time over the years, following the game and fertile lands.
Our leader was Thabian Knight, son of Wilhelm, and he was the Chief Leader of the Valley People. He was the youngest leader of our people and the greatest since our founder, Abraham Knight. We are not one people, we are many. Scroungers, farmers, hunters, builders, and of course, fighters made up the camp.
I am Jacob Knight, the only heir of Thabian, and I am Chief Leader of the Valley People. At the age of twenty-nine I sat upon my throne and watched as my people prepared my father’s remains so that his soul could make the journey to Zion to live with and become one of the ancestors.
To my right sat my mother, Ariana, the camps Medicine Woman, and being the wife of the former Chief Leader, she was dressed all in white as a sign of mourning and purification. She wore a leather belt with a large ornate brass buckle. Carved deep into the buckle was the cluster of stars that made up Zion and tied to the leather belt were several small pouches containing herbs and other tools of her trade. Next to my mother was her student, Karline whom have known nearly my entire life. She was younger than me with hair darker than night that hovered just above her shoulders. Her bright green eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight, seen even through the black veil that she wore to respect the loss of her leader.
We called it, ‘The Bowl’, and it was where we held all ceremonies. At the top sat my throne and below it were five rows of seats, each raised higher than the previous with three gaps in the seating for entrances, east, south and west. My throne sat at the top of the north facing section.
Twelve women wearing light cloth wrapped around their chests and waists walked in, surrounded the pyre and stopped to face the crowd of nearly two-hundred that had gathered to pay tribute. They watched as an old woman walked into the ring holding a torch high above her head and walking with a slow and unsteady gate aided by a twisted cane. She wore black dyed leather from head to toe and bells hung at the end of her long, matted gray hair.
She to the south end of the pyre after circling it once and looked me in the eyes. I could feel the pressure of her soul looking into mine as she lowered the torch and set the pile of wood on fire.
Drums began to bang out a quick beat as the twelve women began to dance around the growing fire. The flames reached out for the ancestors and the old woman left the ring while the dancers continued their tribute to their former leader, circling the flames, their cloth flowing as they spun.
After what seemed like way too long, Hugh, a very old man walked into the ring holding the symbol of our Chief Leader. It was a large collar that draped over the shoulders of the Chief Leader, made of three concentric rings of brass, each held to the other with straps of leather. The top ring was polished to reflect the face of leadership, the second was covered in the symbols of many camps, tribes and clans with a bare foot in the center, the symbol of our people. This was to show the unity of all people. The third brass ring was rough and mixed with copper, silver and gold which symbolized the joining of the people with the ancestors. In the center of the third ring was a carving in the shape of Zion which looked down on us and watched every move we made.
Hugh held the collar toward the heavens for the ancestors to see as he walked around the ring, the dancers gave him room as he passed with a proud stride. After two trips around the quickly growing fire, he stopped in front of where I was seated.
My father was only seventeen when he witnessed this ceremony from the same throne I sat in. He took on the task of leading our people at such an early age, but was truly the greatest leader the Valley People ever had. He broke convention when he took a medicine woman as his wife and killed his own brother for siding with raiders and attacking other camps. He made new laws and took his people into a land of plenty. Now that land is dying and I will have to be great like him, or greater.
I stood and waited for the old man to make his way to me. I was not kingly looking at all, slightly overweight with short and messy brown hair and beard to match. I dressed comfortably, not to occasion, and I always wore a belt with holstered revolver. It was a gun that I had found when I was a young boy, just a frame with rusty bits, but I spend months cleaning it and scavenging parts from like revolvers. I carved new grips and wrapped them in leather, and I used pitch to hold the leather tight to the grips. I cleaned out the barrel and oiled the cylinder. I found a scope and mount, but it was too big, so I wrapped a leather strap around the barrel and it fit perfectly. I don’t always have the scope on, but it stays close to me, just in case I need it. Once I found a replacement trigger, it was ready to use, however, no matter how much work I put into it, I could not get it to fire smoothly. My mother took it to her workshop and when she brought it back, it worked perfectly. I hit everything I pointed at; powerful magic made the rounds go where I wanted every time. My mother always had a way of helping out family and others in the camp. I don’t claim to know what magic she used on my gun, but when I pull the trigger, it does the job at any distance.
My mother always said that a man’s appearance says everything about him. She always tried to get me to dress nice, at least when in public, but I would never have it. I wanted to be comfortable, able to move if needed. We live with the threat of other camps, raider and nomads who want to take what we had, so I need to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice. There were also the numerous wild creatures running about looking for food so I kept the gun at my side at all times. My mother also called me over protective and paranoid, but I’m okay with that. All the magic in her veins could never change me, but I t
hink she had grown to love me for who I was, no matter how much she wanted me to change.
As Hugh made his way to my throne, at first I noticed that the old man was walking with the stride of a man half his age, a strength given to him by the collar, then the fire caught my eye. I stared deep into the fire, perhaps through the dancing flames that were charring the cloth that covered my father’s body. As I stared I saw the soul of my father rise and turn to me. He spoke to me as the fire ate away at his mortal remains.
“Follow me, my son,” his spirit moaned to me.
He stared at me with a look that was somehow both joyful and sorrowful at the same time. His white hair danced in the flames as he continued to speak.
“Lead our people, Jacob. Lead them to a new land of plenty and keep them fed and make peace with the land and all its people.”
Tears flowed freely from my eyes as the old man held the collar skyward once again standing just a foot away from me; I stood.
“This collar signifies the weight that a leader must bear every day,” he began with a raspy voice. “It signifies the power that is passed from one Chief Leader to another.”
He turned away from me and spoke loudly, “One leader lies before you ready to make his way to Zion to live with the ancestors, while another stands before you ready to take his place among the great leaders of our camp.”
He turned back to me and held the collar above his head. He struggled to hold it up as he mumbled something to me. I didn’t understand a word he said, but I knew what I had to do. I knelt on one knee and held my head high.
Hugh place the collar over my head and rested it on my shoulders. The weight of the thing was more than I was expecting, but I stayed still, not letting the people see me struggle. Once the collar was resting on my shoulders, I truly felt the weight of the camp, the weight of my new position. The weight of every soul in camp, and even those that might join us later. At that very moment, I knew what it meant to carry the woes of the world on my shoulders. I would need to lead the people to food and even a fresh land, if it should come to that.
I stood tall, and looked out over the ring of people and I realized they looked to me for answers, for help and for the comfort and security they desired. Suddenly the weight of the collar lessened as I became Chief.
Hugh smiled at me, showing me what teeth he had left, “May the ancestors watch over you and guide you as they have guided the Chief Leaders of the past.”
He bowed his head and turned to the crowd. He held out his arms and looked to Zion. The crowd cheered, the band began to play and the dancers seemed to float around the still burning fire. They chanted a beautiful tune of hope, their harmony impressive, even though I did not understand their words. They were part of the Sisters of Zion and they spoke the language of the ancestors.
I followed Hugh as he walked down to the flames. He stepped to the side of me and knelt with his head bowed to the ground. I stepped closer to the flames, as close as I could without torching my flesh.
I held my arms out to the side and all noise stopped except for the sound of the crackling fire before me.
As I stared into the flames, I saw a great many things. Things that would serve to lead me in the path I was about to start. I felt as if I were floating the fire before me. As I floated free through the air I saw the past, the great ancestors gathered around fires, the earth punishing her people and I saw the land where my people began their journey. I saw a sign, half buried in the desert sands with great big buildings in the background. The sign read, ‘Vegas’ and the Valley People occupied the buildings that were crumbling and near their end, but the signs of their great past remained to remind us of what the ancestors were capable of.
I also saw the present, the game trails and the fertile hunting grounds where I was to lead my people. I saw the location of all the camps, clans and tribes that will be in our way. I also saw a vision of the future of my people and the future of my father’s plan for peace and a fulfilled life. I saw my people living among the green trees that touched the sky, the mountains that reached nearly to Zion. Great waterfalls and rivers of fresh and clean water ran through our land. Large fields of corn, wheat, beans and cucumbers were worked by my people. My people were thriving in this new land, not just surviving.
Then, I saw a wooden box with black steel hinges. I watched as the box was open and a flag was pulled out. The flag was old and frail, torn in many places and missing small sections. I saw the flag hoisted up a tall pole. In the upper left-hand corner of the flag was a blue square, faded and sun bleached from many years of use and storage. Within the blue square were many stars stitched on with failing threads that barely clung to the blue cloth. The rest of the flag was striped with red and white. As the flag was raised, I saw beams of light shooting through the rips and holes. Hope rode on those beams of light, hope for a brighter future, one free from fear and uncertainty. As the flag reached the top of the pole it became whole again, the faded colors were once again bright and vivid. I heard the cheers of not just my people and the cheers of a thousand people, maybe more. They all stood around the flag admiring it as bright stars exploded around the flag and it waved freely in the fresh air.
I blinked my eyes and I was back in the ring standing before the flames with my people silently waiting for me to speak to them. All eyes were on me, I felt as if even the eyes of the ancestors were on me at that very moment. I didn’t feel ready for a speech of the magnitude that my people were hoping for. How could I be ready for that? How could I, a simple man, deliver hope to the people who were counting on me.
I cleared my throat and opened my mouth, hoping the right words would come out in the right order, “My father was a great leader, descended from a long line of great leaders. He led you away from the drought before I was born, and brought you here to this once lush and fertile land. This land has been good to us for many years.”
The crowd cheered and clapped, it threw me off, but I regained my concentration and continued.
“I don’t look to replace my father, may the ancestors bless him,”
The crowd repeated in unison, “May the ancestors bless him.”
“I only hope to carry on his work and his legacy.”
I paused while I watched the flames dance, then I swallowed the lump in my throat and continued, “My mother is strong,” I turned and gestured to her. The crowd cheered and my mother stood.
“Her wisdom and her magic is powerful. With her by my side, we will continue to be a great people, a thriving people. Together we,”
I was interrupted by cheers and drums beating. This gave me comfort, maybe I was saying the right things, so I continued, not wanting to lose the momentum.
“Together the Valley People have accomplished many things and we control a great territory. However, with the passing of the Chief Leader to Zion, outsiders and our enemies might think us weak.”
A collective, “No!” came from the crowd.
“In this current drought, with the herds beginning to move on, we might have to follow them. In three days time, I will lead five men on a hunt to bring back food and any other supplies we might come across on our journey. While we are out, I will keep a constant eye out for any outsiders, raiders and enemies who might think us weak.”
I stopped and stared into the flames that still danced toward Zion and the ancestors. I was using it as a way to think of what to say next, but I was hoping the crowd saw it as a moment of pondering and contemplation, something deeper than it really was. Then I continued, this time in a more comforting voice, “Tonight we celebrate our former Chief Leader and all he has done for us. A great man, a great leader and a great father. Tonight, we celebrate the life of Chief Leader Thabian.”
The crowd went crazy, the band started back up and the half-naked women continued their dance around the pyre. The noise from our small stadium rang out for miles as I made my way back up to my throne.
My mother took my hand and squeezed gently as a sign of support. She l
ifted my hand and planted a kiss, it was comforting and I squeezed her hand in return. Karline, watched me, stared at me as if she was reading my mind, or even trying to tell me that she was there for me. She was there to give me whatever I needed, but I didn’t recognize it.
Karline was a kind girl and always treated me with respect. She was loyal to my mother, to my father and she will no doubt be loyal to me. She began her training with my mother when she was five, that’s when the magic in her rose to the surface and needed to be controlled. My mother and Karline moved into the medicine woman’s home for privacy and they began her training.
My mother continued to hold my hand as she stared into the fire that was consuming her husband, more than that, her best friend. She was strong enough to hold back the tears, but I felt the trembling in her hand and knew how much she suffered. I was not as strong as her and my tears fell from my eyes.
Without looking away from the fire, she spoke softly, “Your father is watching you as he journeys to Zion, he is proud of you, I am proud of you.”
“He will be missed by everyone in the camp, but none will mourn the way you and I will.” I said to my mother.
She looked away from the fire and turned to me, “You are a special soul, my son. You will be a great Chief Leader and you will make our people, your people greater than ever before. I have seen your future and it is a wondrous sight.”
I believed what she said to me, because I had seen my future as well. I didn’t tell her of my visions as I stared into the flames, I never have. It was something I needed to keep from her, from everyone in fact. Many years later I would tell my wife, but I never told anyone else.
I glanced over to Karline, I didn’t want my oldest friend to think I had forgotten about her. I gave her a smile, which she returned with a sparkle in her eye.
There was so much to live up to and I had no idea how I was going to do it. I was at ease with my vision and knew I would eventually find the right way to lead. I did my best to hide my fear that night, as it was a night to show the people that I was ready to lead them.
Jacob's Reign_The Reign Begins Page 1
