The Promised Ones

by Brad Stucki

  Climbing off the ledge, he moved quickly back down the path through the overhanging jungle and over the vine and brush covered paving left by the ancients.

  Chapter 9

  Counting the nights, Javin realized they were taking longer than Saballa had anticipated. Saballa’s temper had grown increasingly short. Then early one morning they broke through the foliage of a small rise and looked across a broad sward of what appeared to be immaculately manicured grass. As he stepped out into the grassy plain, his feet sank as if into a bog. Javin's eyes widened at the sight.

  From the center of the expansive area rose a tremendous walled city set on a gradual mount overlooking the entire valley. From Saballa’s cursing he realized they’d been lost and only now, with luck, had come upon the city.

  The city was big, filling the whole mount, spires lifting here and there in smooth, circular towers that rose to points occasionally broken by balconies. The defensive wall surrounding it seemed high with no break except for occasional small doors at the base, which he was sure were heavily fortified, and could only be opened from within. The wall itself was peaked by towers and battlements at strategic locations all along its expanse. It was an inspiring sight.

  Seeing the bright colored pennants flying in the breeze from each tower, gave it a dreamlike quality. Javin was far from feeling impressed by the beauty. He knew entering it would bode no good for him or the princess.

  The line between jungle and lush grass was clearly defined. Saballa barked an order as they stepped back out into the jungle, hiding again from view of the city.

  Of course, Javin thought, Saballa can’t afford for anyone in the city to know he’s attacked and captured their princess.

  And these other beings, the chameleon men, shouldn’t be seen either. Javin had noticed from the princess’ reaction earlier, she’d never encountered the race before, and like him, she’d expected them to be protectors, not aggressors.

  Thinking back on the sward of grass, Javin was surprised at the spongy texture. He’d sunk in at least six inches with water surrounding his feet. He didn't know how they could accomplish this type of terrain, but it must have been to provide a defensive perimeter to the city. What a simple yet impressive tactic. An army, no matter how big, would find it hard to rush over this ground, much less haul any kind of heavy weaponry or siege engine across it.

  A guard, a lion man, one of Saballa’s seconds, came forward and moved out onto the grassy field waving a heavy banner lifted high on a pole. Straining his eyes through the foliage, Javin could make out the small sign of a similar banner waiving from the wall. They had been noticed. There was a momentary lapse of discipline and the princess moved up to Javin.

  “You see my city,” she said to Javin – “the City of the Winds. There’s but one road to it, and we are on the back side.” She had a tight smile for Javin. “Saballa is not quite the forester he thought he was. We easily could have missed the city, but it seems my bad luck is holding.”

  Javin smiled, trying to reassure her. “It looks to be a city that can be easily defended.”

  “At least from enemies without,” the Princess answered. “We keep the jungle back, carefully uprooting any trees or bushes taller than these grasses, so any approaching enemy can be detected. The one road to the city is narrow and built up so none can approach us unawares. It’s too bad we didn’t take as many precautions against enemies within the walls.”

  Javin nodded wryly.

  Saballa came forward. “Well, Princess, it appears you are home.” Then he turned to Javin, “It also appears you and I will be having more discussions. This time I am sure to get my answers.” A malevolent grin crept across his features.

  “Move out,” Saballa barked, and the company formed up, Javin once again being separated from the Princess. The group moved further back into the forest, still following the line of jungle and the clearing. Every once in a while, he would catch a glimpse of a city spire or tower though they stayed well hidden in the dense greenery.

  Through one brief opening, he caught a glimpse of a small troop of soldiers moving out from one of the small doorways moving briskly towards what appeared to be the general direction they were traveling. A greeting party, Javin mused.

  The two parties converged on the far side of the city. They met just to the side of a tall, thick stand of trees.

  Saballa moved up. "Take a last look at the outside, animal. It's the last you'll see of it,"

  Javin caught the princess' eye, and smiled encouragement. He didn't know what he could do to help. At least he could give reassurance. She smiled back, a thin, tight smile. A lion-man guard noticed the exchange and drove a spear haft into Javin’s gut and forced him back while Saballa and the leader of the group from the city conversed.

  It would have hurt worse, but Javin had grown used to this type of treatment. Miraculously, his wounds, which he was certain had been pretty serious, were almost healed. There was still soreness about his ribs, and his left arm was still a little stiff and pained when he moved it quickly. Otherwise everything else had faded, as if he hadn't received a beating at all. Was this something natural to him, or was this an affect from the crystal? Something inside told him it must be the crystal. How was the crystal affecting him? Would it give him powers?

  Trying as he'd tried many times before, he focused his thoughts into the center of his breast. Like so many times before, little stirred.

  Taking a deep breath, he settled down to wait. There was nothing he could do now. If he kept his senses alert, something would present itself. If I haven't always been an optimist now's a good time to start.

  "Form up!" he heard the guard commander shout. Javin was roughly pulled into line, flanked, as always by a cadre of seven guards. I guess I scare them to have this many guards watching over a trussed chicken.

  The thought surprised him. What's a chicken? Then the flicker of an image floated into his mind making him all the more frustrated that he could bring up the most banal images while nothing of substance would surface no matter how hard he concentrated.

  What happened next was very curious to Javin. The leader of the city guard detachment stepped carefully to the stand of trees and began a high-pitched keening. The guard lowered his voice then thumped on the nearest tree three times, then leaned his head back and keened again.

  There was a soft ruffling, cracking and popping, and to Javin's surprise the stand of trees started swaying, moving, bending, into an arched entrance that opened through the overhanging limbs. The trees had bended, curved outward in the center and opened a path.

  Reaching out, the guard rubbed a semi-thick trunk, purred in a deeper guttural keen, then stood back and bowed to Saballa.

  Javin was sure his jaw was slack as he was pushed from behind and started to step through the tree stand into semi darkness. The path led down into a hidden underground passage in the center of the thick stand of moving trees.

  Of course, they'd have a secret passage, Javin thought wryly as he started down the steps of the damp, carved stairs. Automatically he tuned his senses, letting them scan and record almost subconsciously. He didn't know where he'd learned that, but it was natural, a part of him that went into operation the moment he wanted to observe.

  The stairway grew darker the further down they moved then a light started to appear at the bottom which opened up into a gathering area large enough for the whole group to stand close and make sure everyone had kept up.

  Javin noticed the space was illuminated by dim globes of light fixed on the ends of short staffs set into wall brackets.

  Two other hallways led from the small room. Saballa didn't hesitate any longer than to make sure they were all together, then set a pace up the dim hallway directly across from the stairs. I wonder how many passages travel under the city. Javin was again prodded forward.

  The group traveled in silence, the hall was lit by the light globes -- about the size of a bowling ball -- Javin grit his teeth at still another superfluou
s memory that made sense only after it'd come -- and of course, nothing else came with it. He shook his head and chuckled. The chameleon-man guard at his side looked at him askance as they walked, tilting his head, but didn't speak.

  The hallway continued in a straight course. Javin assumed it led to directly under the city. After they'd walked for some time, he felt a slight pressure on his calf muscles indicating they were moving up a slight incline. Then, without any warning, they came into another room, this one much larger than the first and more brightly lit with a series of larger globes suspended from the ceiling. Around the expanse lay cells made of iron bars, most of which were occupied. Lion-men and women who stood in tattered clothing came to the front of their barred cells and watched silently as their group filed across the room. Visible bruises and cuts mapped some of their bodies, and the stiff way they moved told Javin how they were being treated. Guards at various points throughout snapped to attention, bringing a clenched fist across their breast in salute to which Saballa paid no heed.

  The princess was gaping in wide-eyed horror about the room. She was visibly disturbed at seeing the cells filled. Javin could tell she recognized them, and pain filled her expression -- then anger, a livid pulse of fury that Javin knew would never be quenched until some justice was done.

  "What is the meaning of this?" She snapped at Saballa as he stopped to give instructions to his seconds concerning the disposition of the remainder of the guard now they were within the confines of the city. "Why are these people being held?"

  Saballa finished giving his orders, pointedly ignoring the princess. "Keep the Pontu’ Gi in their rooms and out of sight. It wouldn't do to have them appear to the populace until Tranthra' Joh commands it." His second nodded. Then Saballa spoke to the rest of the men. "Go back to your various duties . . . and remember no word of this to anyone. The loyal will be rewarded. Those who fail will be punished." His tone marked a definite threat.

  Fists crashed along breasts in salute and the guard dispersed, most going up the steep stairs on the far side of the room. Another hallway to the right swallowed up one of the other seconds followed by the troupe of chameleon men. Their tread over the stone floor was silent as they padded across.

  New guards moved down the steps passing those going up. These were dressed in what appeared to palace livery, black tunics, the bright sunburst design on the right breast, black trousers and shiny black, knee-high boots. On their heads they wore a black chromed scull helmet. Great color, Javin thought, makes it easy to know who the bad guys are.

  The new guards moved forward, flanking Saballa. He nodded, and they took up station, four around Javin and two on either side of the princess who stood fuming. It was only then that Saballa addressed the princess.

  "These people are being held for crimes against the city."

  "What!" the princess stammered. "I know these people. They've never been anything but loyal. They'd never do anything against our city."

  "Loyal?" Saballa said. "Maybe to you but not to the city as it is now."

  The princess gasped. Saballa smirked, enjoying her reaction. Javin could tell that this Tranthra' Joh was becoming your everyday dictator, political prisoners and all.

  "I must caution you, princess," Saballa continued. "As you know, we'll be traveling up through the palace. The halls have been cleared and no one will see you. Any outburst on your part will be met with dire consequences." Javin had no doubt he meant what he said. The princess didn't answer. "Further, I advise you to cooperate with Tranthra' Joh. It will be much less painful."

  He turned to Javin. "As for you animal, you're nothing but a curiosity. Any outburst from you will mean your immediate death."

  One of the guards at Javin's side pulled his dagger and held it to Javin's throat.

  "This guard has my permission," Saballa continued, "to slit your throat at the slightest provocation. We'll worry about the mess it makes later."

  Javin couldn't resist letting a smile cross his face. Sure Saballa, I'll behave . . . for now.

  Once more sizing up the guard then adjusting his own clothing, Saballa turned and started up the steps. The princess followed and Javin was nudged forward, the dagger still held at his throat.

  The top of the stairs opened into a rough hall which they followed until it stopped at a large wooden door. It was pulled open and they stepped out into a larger, brightly lit corridor. Polished marble flooring, colorful tapestries, and intricate carvings sat on pedestals at various intervals as they passed.

  Javin kept a close eye on the princess as they progressed from hall to hall, each time it seemed they moved up an incline to a newer level of the palace. The decor grew finer and more lavish. Wealth and prosperity was evident.

  Vacant corridors where there should have been a bustle of people clearly disheartened the princess. Her shoulders began to sag as if in defeat. Javin knew she was tired, and seeing all this, what she'd worked so hard to maintain being pushed aside so easily was taking its toll.

  After walking some minutes through the palace, they came to a huge set of inlaid doors. Each door was easily four men across and at least two men high ending in a graceful arch at the top.

  The two guards on either side of the door snapped to attention, lances held rigidly upright, eyes straight ahead. Saballa stepped forward and spoke a quiet word to one, who nodded and grasped the heavy brass ring on his half of the door and strained, pulling it open.

  "Wait here!" Saballa moved into the room.

  Javin tried to catch the princess' eyes. They were downcast.

  "Bring them in!" Saballa's voice sounded from inside the chamber.

  The princess took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and held her eyes level and high. She glanced quickly at Javin and smiled, then moved forward. That's the way, Javin thought. Don't show any weakness.

  Javin was nudged forward, the guard still holding the dagger to his neck.

  Inside the large hall, floor to ceiling windows ringed the space at regular intervals. The room was decked with a plethora of pedestal and tapestry finery. Great swaths of gossamer fabrics draped the windows, but still let the light fully penetrate and mute its glare to a subtle glow. The chamber itself wasn’t huge, just big enough to hold a hundred people, if necessary, on the burnished marble floors. At the far end a raised dais was located a bit into the center of the room with tall curtains rising up from its back to the ceiling. On the dais sat a gilded chair made of dark wood and upholstered with deep crimson. On it sat a large lion man bedecked in a grey tunic and trousers, black knee high boots like the guard, and his head was uncovered, allowing his tawny mane to flow free. He looked the picture of nobility. Javin sensed an underlying cruelty. It didn’t come from the way he appeared; more from the way he watched as they approached. A gloating, self satisfied smile crossed his face where the tinges of his slightly graying mane clung close to his cropped ears. The pelt on his arms and breast showed a slightly mottled beige color - mixed with gray. As with the guards, he had emblazoned on his right breast the sunburst symbol. That still seemed quite curious to Javin since he’d never seen the sun since being here, and doubted any of the inhabitants of this world had either.

  Moving across the chamber he looked up and noticed several guards placed at equal distances around a balconied landing several spans up. Gives them a clear field of fire, Javin noted. Each held a bow knocked with an arrow ready to protect their sovereign. Only the Princess should be their sovereign.

  Javin wondered what this Tranthra’ Joh had promised to entice these guards away from their hereditary leader.

  “Kneel!” Saballa barked at they stopped in front of the dais. The guard at his side, finally sheathed his dagger and tried to force him into a kneeling posture. Javin shrugged him off and stood smiling. He’d be hanged if he’d kneel to the likes of this man. Javin was pleased to see the princess had ignored the command as well and stood staring defiantly at the man sitting on the throne.

  “I said, kneel!” Saballa m
oved forward, raising his hand to strike a cowardly blow to the princess.

  Javin didn’t think, he acted, surging forward, snapping the bounds on his arms like they were nothing but strings. He caught Saballa a sharp blow across the jaw, knocking him sprawling.

  The guards yanked swords clear of their scabbards and leaped forward as Javin turned to meet them. Instinctively he knew the guards on the balcony had pulled back drawstrings of bows ready to loose their arrows. There wasn’t anything he could do at this point but die. Maybe he’d get lucky and be able to disarm a guard then leap on the dais and take Tranthra’ Joh as a hostage.

  “Guard!” The man on the throne shouted. Another cadre of lion men sprang from behind the curtains on the dais and surrounded Javin and the princess. “I wouldn’t move if I were you.” Tranthra’ Joh said. He looked up to the balcony and raised a restraining hand. “Princess, if you value this man’s life you will tell him to stay his hand. I will not allow anyone to harm him – or you -- if you cooperate.”

  Javin noticed Tranthra’ Joh staring at him, eyes wide, as if Javin looked . . . familiar. And he referred to him as a man. Either he was more intelligent than Saballa, or he knew things.

  Javin was pleased Saballa was only now getting to his feet, slowly, rubbing his jaw and a trickle of blood flowing down the corner of his mouth.

  “Javin, please,” the princess turned to him. There’s nothing you can do.” Then lower, under her breath so that only he could hear. “There’ll be another time. Wait til then.”

  Slowly Javin nodded, keeping his eyes on the guards, and trying to glance every now and then up to the gallery where the bowstrings were still drawn tight.

  “I’ll settle down,” he said, straightening somewhat from his ready stance, “but I’ll never kneel to this . . .” Javin didn’t have the appropriate insult.

  “Keep your cowardly dog off the princess,” he said to the man on the throne. “If he wants to swing at something, see if he has the stomach to swing at someone who can swing back.”