Final Kingdom

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Final Kingdom Page 6

by Gilbert L. Morris


  Wash reached up a hand feebly, and Reb grabbed it with both of his. “You’re gonna have to go on . . . without me,” Wash said, his voice growing weaker.

  Beorn said nothing, for this was a matter for the Sleepers. He and Glori stood back while Dave, Reb, Jake, and the two girls gathered around the injured boy. His head was in Sarah’s lap now, and he was speaking so faintly that they had to lean close to hear.

  “Looks like . . . I won’t be . . . at the last battle,” he whispered, “but you guys have got to make it. Don’t worry . . . about leaving me here . . . I’ll see you . . . again.”

  “Wash,” Reb said, “you can’t die!” Tears were running down his cheeks. He held the hand of the small boy tightly. “You just can’t, Wash.”

  “You been . . . my best friend, Reb,” Wash whispered. He looked around and said, “All of you . . . my good friends.” He closed his eyes, and they thought he was gone, but he opened them and said more strongly. “We’ve had . . . a good time.” He took each hand, then closed his eyes again as one who was weary from long labor. “I wish . . . I could be at the end. . .with you. But Goél . . . he’ll look out for us all.”

  Silence filled the tunnel, and then Abbey sobbed, “He’s gone! Wash—Wash is gone!”

  They looked at one another.

  “We can’t take him with us,” Sarah whispered.

  “This will be his burial ground,” Beorn said suddenly, his voice deep, his eyes brooding. “It is a grave for a valiant warrior. No one will disturb him here.”

  And so it was. They had no choice. Beorn found a small alcove, and there they placed the body. Afterward, each Sleeper said his good-bye to the small, still form. Then they turned away, eyes blinded with tears, and Beorn closed the alcove opening with stones.

  On the way leading back down to the deepest parts of the Caverns of Doom, Sarah said brokenly, “Josh and now Wash—both gone! No matter what happens, things will never be the same again!”

  7

  The Centaurs

  Beorn conducted the Sleepers and Glori deep into the bowels of the earth where they traveled for what seemed hours. But at last they emerged into the world of sunlight and fresh air without meeting further opposition. They knew that the soldiers of the Dark Lord behind them had been cut off by the chasm they could not cross over.

  Now they were passing through a golden grassy plain. Herds of Nuworld cattle grazed here and there and lifted their heads to look curiously at the band that forged through their fields. The Sleepers were all limping badly.

  “How much farther is it?” Dave asked Glori, who had resumed her place as guide.

  “Do you see that low ridge ahead—the one that looks like a smudge on the horizon?” She pointed. “That is the home of the centaurs. We should be there tomorrow.”

  Jake looked across the enormous distance and groaned. “I’ve about worn my shoe leather off,” he complained, “but let’s keep going if we have to.”

  There was an unhappy note in his voice, but he trudged on. After a time he noticed that Reb had fallen far behind. This was unusual, for the Southern boy usually was as far in advance of the party as possible. Slowing his steps, Jake waited until Reb was even with him, then said, “I don’t feel like going much of anywhere. Do you, Reb?”

  “No.”

  Jake waited for Reb to continue, and when he saw that Reb’s lips were pressed firmly together, he thought, He’s grieving over Wash. Those two were closer than brothers. Aloud he said gently, “It’s rough. First Josh, and now Wash.”

  Reb did not reply for a time. The only sounds were the cries of a few birds overhead and the fall of their footsteps as they plodded through the field.

  “It’s like I lost an arm,” Reb said finally, pain etched on his face. “For two years now, we’ve hardly been separated at all. I got so that I sort of thought like Wash did, and he thought like I did.”

  Jake knew better than to speak of their loss again.

  The sun was just beginning to fall toward the west when Beorn said loudly, “Look!”

  All of them lifted their heads to see what appeared to be a band of horsemen coming directly toward them.

  “I hope they’re friendly,” Glori said uneasily. “We’re trapped out in the open—we wouldn’t have a chance if they decided to make a fight of it.”

  Sarah, whose eyesight was keener than most, was staring. She said with shock, “Those aren’t men on horses!”

  “What?” Dave shaded his eyes with a hand and waited for a moment. “You’re right,” he said. “I never saw anything like that!”

  By this time, others could see more clearly the group that was approaching. Abbey whispered, “I knew we were coming to the Land of the Centaurs, but I guess I never really expected that they’d look like that.”

  To Sarah, however, they looked exactly as she had pictured them. There were eight of them. All had the bodies of fine horses. One was white, three were black, one was a bay color, one looked like a pinto, and two were palomino, a light cream.

  But there their similarity to horses ended. Rising out of the front quarters of each one, instead of the arching neck and fine head of a horse, was the body of a man. All were deeply muscled, the kind of development she had seen in weight lifters and acrobats back in Oldworld. Every muscle stood out clearly. Most had long hair that whipped back in the breeze. They carried powerful bows and wore quivers of arrows over their backs. Their faces were stern and noble.

  The leader was the strongest-looking of all. The horse part of him was cream colored, and his hair was a rich auburn, slightly curly and tied in the back with a leather thong. His voice boomed, “Who are you, and what is your business in the Land of the Centaurs?”

  The centaurs surrounded the travelers and nocked arrows to their bowstrings.

  Reb stared about and said, “I feel like we’re in the covered-wagon days and the Comanches are surrounding us. Boy, I never seen anything like this!”

  “You ought to like it, Reb,” Dave murmured. “You always loved horses. This is what you should have been—one of these fellas.”

  Glori was holding up both hands in a sign of peace. “Hold your hands up, everyone!” she directed the Sleepers. “We come in peace,” she cried to the centaurs. “These are the Sleepers, sent by Goél to speak with Aramore, your chief.”

  The centaur leader released his bowstring and replaced the arrow in his quiver. He trotted forward and examined them with clear gray eyes. There was a kind of nobility about him as he said, “My name is Moonwise. I am captain of the Armies of the Centaurs. We have heard of the Sleepers. You are the Seven?”

  “The dwarf and I are merely guides,” Glori answered. “These are five of the Sleepers.”

  “Where are the other two?” Moonwise demanded.

  Glori answered slowly, “They have been lost on the way. Victims of the Dark Lord.”

  Moonwise considered her words, then looked into the faces of the newcomers. He moved about slowly, so that he could stare at each one, and each felt the impact of his powerful scrutiny.

  He paused last by Sarah, and his gaze seemed to reach down into her very depths. He said nothing, but Sarah knew that somehow he was aware of her grief.

  Moonwise nodded slowly. “I welcome you to our land. I will take you to Aramore, our chief.”

  “Most of us are tired,” Glori said. “Some have been wounded.”

  “You shall not walk,” Moonwise said. He turned to Sarah. “Come, get on my back, and I will bear your burden.”

  Sarah swallowed hard, but determination came to her. She moved to the huge horse-man and looked up at him. He replaced the bow over his shoulder, then bent over to pick her up as if she had no weight at all. He swung her around and onto his wide, strong back, saying gently, “Hold onto me so that you will not fall off. We will not go fast, however.”

  “Yes, Moonwise,” Sarah whispered. She put her arms around the powerful body and held on tightly.

  The others were selected by the remaining
centauri. When one of the black-bodied horse-men came to Beorn, the dwarf shook his head. “Dwarfs do not ride.”

  “You will ride this time,” the centaur said. And he reached down and picked up Beorn. The dwarf seemed shocked at the ease with which the centaur placed him in the center of his back.

  “Hang on,” the centaur said. “Dwarfs take orders from the centauri in this land.” His blue eyes gleamed. “When I come underground to your home below the earth, then you may give the orders. What is your name?”

  “Beorn.”

  “My name is Skyfill. Welcome to our country.”

  All were mounted by now, and Reb, who rode a centaur named Clemore, was delighted. “I rode lots of horses,” he said, “but I never had anything like this happen.”

  “Do you like horses?” his centaur asked.

  “Yes, I do. I like ’em better than most people do.”

  The centaur twisted around to look into Reb’s eyes. A smile came to his lips. “I trust that you will always respect centaurs.”

  At a word from Moonwise, the troop broke into a gallop.

  Even Abbey, never an expert horsewoman, apparently found it easy to stay on the back of her centaur. His gallop was smooth, and she had her arms around his powerful waist. He had brown curly hair that flew back into her face. She held on tightly, watching the land fly by.

  The centaurs’ powerful hooves churned up chunks of dirt as they sped across the fields without ceasing. For an hour they did not diminish their speed, yet showed no signs of tiring.

  And then Moonwise cried out, “There is our city!”

  It was a strange city that the Sleepers saw, for there were no tall buildings. Evidently the centaurs’ dwellings consisted of open space and large sheds. It was possible to get out of the weather, but there were no walls to enclose them.

  “There is our leader,” Moonwise called. Then he raised his voice. “Hail, Aramore. We bear a party from Goél.”

  Aramore’s body was pure white. His hair was white to match. He had sky-blue eyes, and there were enormous dignity and power in his face. His voice was deep as he said, “Welcome to the Land of the Centaurs.” Then his eyes searched the new arrivals. “I see you are tired from your journey. We must care for our visitors.” He called out, and several female centaurs came forward.

  “These will see to your comfort. Afterward we will have a council.”

  What followed was rather amazing. The Sleepers, Glori, and Beorn all slid to the ground, and the mare centaurs took them to one of the sheds. There a table was set, and one of their hostesses, a delicate-looking mare with the beautifully formed upper body of a woman, said, “We have plenty. You will eat, and then you must rest.”

  The banquet that followed was different—very different! The food was placed on tables almost as high as their heads. Evidently centaurs ate standing up. That may have been handy for them, but it was hard for the Sleepers and especially for Beorn. His head barely reached the top of the table.

  Finally he grunted, “This is no way for a dwarf to eat.” With a sudden motion he swung himself up onto the tabletop and sat cross-legged. “Now,” he said grimly, “we can have our meal.”

  This brought a laugh from the others. It was the first time that any of them had laughed since losing Wash.

  The food turned out to be delicious, consisting of vegetables and fruits. There was no meat on the table, and Dave said, “I guess centaurs are vegetarians.” He looked at some centaurs trotting by and added, “They must have to eat a lot. Enough for a horse and a man.”

  They were later to find out that this was indeed true. The normal centaur banquet took several hours, for they ate slowly, chewing thoroughly, and as much as half of their day was spent just eating.

  After the meal, Aramore himself came by. “I have come to look at your wounds, and then you will rest.”

  “I did the best I could, Chief Aramore,” Abbey said, “but some of the injuries are old and haven’t healed properly.”

  Aramore first looked at Sarah’s swollen leg. He barked a command, and soon one of the female centaurs brought some leaves that had been steeped in boiling water. Aramore bound the leaves over the raw cut and said, “Now, my daughter, smell the fragrance of these.”

  Sarah put her nose over the steaming pot and breathed deeply. The smell was delightful, something like peppermint, and it seemed to go farther than her lungs. It spread throughout her body, filling her with a delightful sensation of rest and ease.

  “I want you to rest, and this will make you sleepy. You all have pushed yourselves hard.”

  Aramore went around and treated every wound. But when he got to the dwarf, Beorn shook his head, saying, “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “You are a stubborn dwarf—but then all dwarfs are stubborn. Open your coat.”

  Beorn tried to stare the centaur down, but that was difficult since Aramore towered high over him. Muttering, he pulled his shirt open and submitted to the ministrations of the centaur, who treated his wounds with a cooling salve. “This stitching was well done.”

  “Aye, it was that. The girl knows her business,” Beorn said.

  “All of you sleep now. When you have rested, we will talk.”

  “That was the best sleep I ever had,” Sarah said, stretching luxuriously. She had been awakened by a female centaur, and she and Abbey had risen to see that they had almost slept the clock around. She stretched again and yawned. “I feel so refreshed.”

  “So do I,” Abbey said. “There must have been something in that stuff we smelled that made us sleep.” She ran her hand through her hair and said, “But I wish we could take a bath.”

  “Indeed you shall,” a lady centaur said with a smile. She had a beautiful face with mild brown eyes. “Come, we will see to your needs.”

  She led them to a beautiful clear stream, and an hour later both girls were bathed and dressed and their hair had been arranged by another of the mare centaurs. Sarah felt like a new person as they approached the banquet shed.

  “She’s as good as any hairdresser I ever went to,” Abbey said, patting the plaits that formed her corona of blonde hair. “I wish she could do my nails.”

  “I think they’ve done enough. But, look!” Sarah said suddenly. “The boys are already there—and our guides. It looks like another feast.”

  “Welcome to my table,” Aramore said as the girls entered. “We will eat, and then we will talk.”

  It was another long meal, and the humans were filled long before the centaurs. However, it was only polite to wait, and during this time they learned a great deal about centaur habits.

  Then Aramore asked, “Who is your leader?”

  The Sleepers sat in silence.

  It was finally Dave who said slowly, “Our leader, Joshua, has been captured—so until Goél appoints one of us, you can speak to me. I am the oldest but not necessarily the wisest.”

  “A good answer, David,” Aramore said. “Tell us then why you have come.”

  Dave gave the essence of Goél’s message. He concluded by saying, “Goél has asked that you and your people join with him in the final battle against the Dark Lord. All the free peoples of the world, all the House of Goél, will meet at the Plains of Dothan.”

  Aramore listened carefully and for a while appeared to be thinking deeply on the matter. He called a short recess during which he met with Moonwise and several other centaurs, evidently the leaders. Finally he came back and said clearly, “We will go to the Plains of Dothan at the command of Goél.”

  “That’s wonderful, Aramore,” Sarah said. “It makes the journey worthwhile—” But then she thought of Josh and Wash, and sorrow swept over her again. She lowered her eyes and said no more.

  For some time the council made plans. When they concluded, Aramore said, “I will speak with you alone —the five Sleepers who remain.”

  Somewhat surprised, the Sleepers left the banquet hall and walked out into the open air. It was almost dark now, and the stars already t
winkled brightly.

  Aramore said, “We have heard of the prophecy of the Seven Sleepers. Now there are only five—and perhaps there will be even fewer.”

  Sarah held her chin high. “Josh and Wash both knew—we all knew—that serving Goél could bring death. We are not afraid.”

  Aramore considered her for a long moment, then said, “I am convinced that the end of Nuworld as we know it is near. I have studied the prophecies. I have watched men and times. The world cannot go on as it is. Either Goél will rule with the free peoples, or we will all become slaves of the Dark Lord. It will be a hard battle, but my people and I are committed to Goél and to his House.”

  “Do you think we will win, Aramore?” Jake asked earnestly.

  “Time will reveal what will come, but in the meanwhile I am disturbed.”

  “Disturbed? About what?” Dave asked with surprise.

  “Something about your company is not right.”

  “Of course, it’s not right,” Reb said with some irritation. “We’ve lost two of our number.”

  “It is more than that. There is something in the spirit of your party that troubles me.” Aramore’s eyes grew half hooded. “Be very careful as you leave this place. You are going to the Land of the Magicians.”

  “That was the command of Goél.” Dave nodded.

  “A very unusual place—and a very unusual people.”

  “What’s unusual about them?” Abbey asked quickly.

  “They are powerful people. Not physically but in other ways. They have delved into the human mind, and they know how to sway the minds of others.”

  “But they’re on Goél’s side, aren’t they?”

  “Some are. Some are not. I have heard rumors that the Dark Lord has made inroads into Celethorn. I warn you again, be very cautious. It is a far distance, but I will send seven of my most trusted centaurs with you. They will bear you to the borders of Celethorn, then they must return to join the battle at the Plains of Dothan.”

  Early the next morning the five Sleepers and their two guides prepared to set out again. Glori listened closely as Aramore warned her of some dangerous country that lay ahead.

 

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