Ferral's Deathmarch Army

by Tod Langley

10

  The Fisherman

  It took Allisia much longer to reach the light than she thought it should have. She was weak from her fight with Ferral and what strength she had left the frigid winds had sucked out of her. She stumbled in her torn dress across the rocky shoreline toward the small light the demon had pointed to. Any doubts she harbored about this being another trick evaporated. Now, she just wanted the walk to end and to find a warm place to rest. For as many hours as it seemed she had walked, the light did not appear to get any closer.

  Allisia often fell on the sharp rocks near the water’s edge. The freezing cold made the pain in her feet and knees even worse. She was ready to collapse when, after coming around a large rock, she saw the moored boat.

  The harsh weather did not affect the small cove. The water was calmer and the chill wind was gone. Warm, golden light streamed from the lamp hanging from the mast of the boat, inviting, comforting. Allisia’s fears dissipated as she approached the vessel with eagerness

  Then movement on the boat caught her attention. A bent figure hobbled out of the cabin on the deck. His white hair hung down in his face, but even from where Allisia stood, she could see him smile. And in that smile she could see no deception, only a warm, open welcome.

  Allisia climbed the rope ladder up to where the old man stood. Disheveled, her elegant dress hanging in tatters, she stood before the man not knowing what to say. He felt her uncertainty and gestured for her to go into the cabin. His calm eased her mind, and she moved quickly toward the door. Once inside, the old man pulled out a chair and blanket for her. Allisia fell into the wooden chair exhausted by her escape.

  The man still had not said a word as he began pouring her some broth from a small pot. He laid the steaming cup in front of her and waited for her to take some. Allisia began to look around in apprehension as she recovered from the cold.

  “Shouldn’t we leave? They will be looking for me,” Allisia said.

  The man smiled. “You are safe in my hands, Allisia. No one will harm you while you are in my care.” His voice was as calming as the cove and as warm and comforting as the soup and blanket.

  “Who are you? How did you know my name?” Allisia asked.

  “I am no one, just a humble fisherman,” he answered her casually. “And I know your name through a mutual friend.” Allisia’s anguish returned, but the fisherman eased her fears. He shook his head saying, “she is not the one I am referring to. There is no need to fear her now. The demon is but a tool of evil and cannot harm those under my protection.”

  “I don’t know who you mean then. No one else has helped me. Who has sent you?” Allisia pushed.

  “Someone who is gravely concerned about what is befalling this land, Child. And do not feel so alone. You are not forgotten. Others struggle to fight Ferral and see you safe.”

  Sighing, he struggled out of his chair. As he opened the door to leave he said, “I must see to our departure. We will talk again, but now you must rest. Have no fears, sleep and forget some of the horrors you have seen. There is a bed behind that partition.” With that said, he left Allisia to make the boat ready for their voyage.

  The girl’s sleep was deep and peaceful. No nightmares disturbed her rest, only faded memories of playing along the shores as she had often done as a child. A man, another fisherman, watched over her as she played and regained the strength needed to go on. The fisherman was young and strong, and he smiled often at Allisia. His brown hair and beard framed a warm, happy face that emanated peace and love.

  He was deeply troubled. She could see the pain and sadness in his eyes. He guided her along the rocky beach warning her of dark pits that she had difficulty seeing. He cautioned her that to fall into those holes would spell certain doom. Allisia would cautiously step to the side, but then start playing again, no longer caring about the dangers that surrounded her.

  “Be careful, Allisia,” the fisherman warned her in a soft voice. “These holes are deeper than they look. It will be hard to pull you out if you are lured into them.”

  He would remind Allisia as she began to skip along that he was the only one that could guide her down the path and that she better be careful. The princess would stop her skipping to seriously think about what he said, but only for a moment. Deciding that the path really was not all that dangerous, she risked disobeying him. His brown hair would hide his face momentarily as he shook his head in sad understanding.

  The fisherman had seen countless others pay little heed to his warnings. He had shed tears of grief for all those lost, enough to fill oceans. He wished there was more he could do to help those poor souls, but he could do little. The fisherman hoped that Allisia would understand, and that maybe this time, there would be a great victory for the righteous. The fisherman hoped that this time the important information he had to share with those he desperately wanted to help would be used. Every great once in a while, the fisherman was allowed to provide a few with guidance and hope during the darkest of times. Perhaps, this time Allisia would be the one.

  The fisherman would do everything he could to help her. He turned his attention back to the girl’s dreams showing her visions of a fiery mountain and a churning sea. The sea was as black as night.

  The Utwan Sea was still calm when Allisia woke. It seemed to Allisia that some of the cold had returned. She was comfortable and well rested, but the chill winds reminded her that evil was still in control of her world. As assuring as her dreams had been, she was disheartened to awaken to the same dismal situation she had tried to escape. Allisia sat up on the small cot unable to see more than what was close by. A make-shift curtain, hanging down from the rafters, divided the small cabin. The old cloth was probably intended to give her some sort of privacy, but right now, all Allisia wanted was to be close to someone.

  As she stood, her tattered dress fell off her shoulder reminding her of last night’s struggle. Allisia could not see them, but she felt the deep scratches Ferral had left when he grazed her back with his fingernails. They made her feel ashamed and vulnerable. An uneasy feeling crept up within her as she thought of the things Ferral wanted to do to her. Allisia had not thought of how bad her situation really was when she fought him off and escaped. Her struggle to reach the old man and his boat had so focused her mind that she forgot what could have happened. But now, she saw Ferral’s eager eyes in her mind. Allisia saw the terrible lust that drove him to hit her and force her against the wall. She remembered the harsh grasping feel of his hand.

  Allisia buried her head in her hands and wept. She sobbed as the memory of her ordeal replayed itself in her head.

  “I’m alone … I’m completely alone,” Allisia gasped. She knew that if she had not stopped Ferral on her own, she would never have escaped.

  “What is going to happen to me?” Allisia asked. “Will I ever be with those I care about? Who is left for me to care about, anyway? My father and brother are dead. My people are frightened and will do nothing … thousands of them are dead creatures serving that madman.”

  Then she realized something. “Kristian might still be alive.” Allisia’s emotions ran unchecked and tears fell freely, but that one image of Kristian defying Ferral at the gates softened her sadness with hope.

  When Allisia was finally able to control her crying, she took a moment to look beyond the partition. On the chair she sat in earlier there was a fresh set of clothes and a thin, but inviting, blanket. Allisia felt the torn fabric of the dress she wore and decided to change. The new clothes were a little threadbare, but extremely comfortable, and the blanket immediately made her feel warm. She looked at the garment she had just discarded, and the image of Ferral smiling at her while he ran his hand along her body sprang into her mind.

  Shuddering, Allisia picked up the tattered remains of her old dress and walked out of the cabin. The old fisherman was there in front of her, securing a line to the boat’s single mast. He turned to look at Allisia, seeming to already know and understand the suffer
ing she had been through. The old man reassured her with a smile; his concern warming her and giving her a renewed sense of confidence.

  She smiled back at him.

  Allisia walked directly to the side of the boat and did not hesitate to throw the once beautiful dress into the sea. The small wake of the boat gently rolled over the garment, sinking it. Allisia looked down on the scene with more than a little remorse. The dress represented a part of her life she knew she would never have back. There would be no more ceremonies full of tradition and beauty. There would be no more decorated halls filled with handsomely dressed men or elegant women. There would be no more music filling the palace with the sounds of merriment. The realization that these luxuries, like so many other parts of her life, were gone caused her heart to ache, but Allisia refused to cry. She had cried too much. As the dress finally sank under the water, she sighed in quiet resignation.

  Still looking out over the sea, Allisia asked the man, “you said that I was not alone, that some still sought to rescue me. Who did you mean?”

  The old man did not hesitate to tell her. “Kristian is still alive.” Allisia let out a deep sigh of relief. “He has fought hard and undergone much. He constantly thinks of you. Unfortunately, the evil sorcerer has focused all of his resources on finding and destroying him. The young king is constantly pushed farther away, but he has not forgotten you.”

  “Kristian knows that his father is dead, then?” Allisia asked.

  “He knows and has reluctantly assumed the responsibility of being a king.”

  When Allisia turned to him full of questions, the man raised his hands to calm her and continued, “Do not ask me how I know these things. Accept that what I tell you is true, because it is. I am only fortunate that I have found someone with whom to share that knowledge … this time.

  “He has changed much, Allisia. He has seen the worst of himself and hates what he was. The horrors of what has happened continually haunt him. A part of him will never forgive himself and that is as it should be. Men, and women, entrusted with the responsibility of leading others should never forget their mistakes lest they make the same ones over again. Now, he strives to be a better man, a better leader.” The old man laughed a little, “Oh, he is not perfect. No, not at all, but he is trying.”

  “Does … does he love me?” Allisia asked. “Or does he do this for other reasons?”

  “Both.” Allisia’s puzzled look made him smile. “Kristian loves you, and more importantly, you are his closest friend. He does not want to let you down. Kristian also realizes that thousands depend upon him. If Kristian fails, he knows that no one will be left to face Ferral.”

  Allisia shook her head. She did not doubt the truth of the man’s words but wondered how he knew everything he professed.

  In response, the old man said, “I am old, much older than I look. And with all the ages and events that I have witnessed I have gained much knowledge and wisdom. Dark times have befallen the world before, my child, and dark times will come again.”

  Allisia snorted. “If there is ever to be another good time again, you mean.”

  The man shrugged. “Ferral and the master he serves will not win. Not if you and Kristian stand against them.”

  “How can we possibly stand against them?” Allisia asked. “Ferral has incredible powers. He controls the dead and demons from Hell. These powers can’t be beaten.” She lowered her head. “It seems as though God has turned away from us, and the Dark One has free reign.”

  Sadness filled the fisherman’s eyes. “Do not say such things,” he said with a sternness that reminded her of her father when she was a young girl. “God is more compassionate than you can possibly fathom. No one can see what He has planned.” He placed his hands on her shoulders in a fatherly way. “You have called on God to help you often in the past few weeks. Do you think that all of your pleas to him went unheard?”

  Allisia felt ashamed. The last month had tested her faith to its limits and maybe beyond. “I prayed many times while Ferral tormented me, while I sat in that dark cell waiting for the dead to tear down the door. As I heard him laugh about the cruel pleasure he took in torturing and killing innocent people. I prayed when the demon carried me away from my home. I prayed when Ferral killed my family. I prayed even harder when the men in the battle were slaughtered by the dead, forced to join the mad man’s army.” Allisia turned to look back toward the shore that was beyond her view.

  “How has God helped me?” Allisia asked the fisherman with sarcasm, her anger rising. “Will He ever help me?”

  The fisherman lowered his head in disappointment. He sighed, frustrated. “God will help you, Allisia, but it will take great sacrifice from you to understand those gifts and use them to fight Ferral.”

  “When? When will He help me,” Allisia pleaded to know.

  “It will be soon, child. You are not yet ready to receive the gifts God wishes you to have.”

  “I can’t understand how anything that I or Kristian, or even God, will do could bring Ferral down.” Allisia sighed, resigned to defeat.

  The fisherman gave her a stern look. He pointed at the blanket wrapped around her. “That blanket was made with a bunch of loose thread, but it’s warm isn’t it?” Allisia touched the blanket wondering where the old fisherman was going with this, but the blanket was indeed warmer than anything she ever remembered wearing. It gave her a small measure of confidence and security when she pulled it snuggly against her body.

  “Loop after loop, knot after knot, stitch after stitch, even with added patches from where I mended it … that blanket could snuff out a flame quickly if I wanted to use it for such a purpose. But I didn’t make the blanket in one day. Each time I used the needle and thread to make that blanket was a new action that helped create a strong fabric. It’s the same with God’s work, Child.”

  With that said, the old man went back to the tiller to adjust their course. Allisia remained where she was, trying to sort out what the fisherman had told her.