Ferral's Deathmarch Army

by Tod Langley

20

  The Gift of Wine

  Allisia sat on the bench staring intently at her stew. Nicodemus looked at her with concern.

  “Do the dreams haunt you that much already, Allisia?”

  Allisia nodded. It was easy for Nicodemus to see that she had not slept well. He collected their bowls, poured more stew for each of them, and then sat back down.

  “I want to be strong. I want to find a way to destroy him, but I can’t stop thinking about what will happen. Will I be destroyed by this gift? How will I receive it and when? Will the knowledge do me any good?” Allisia sighed in frustration, resting her chin on her hands.

  Nicodemus smiled warmly. “I cannot answer those questions, but we are drawing closer to the end of our stay together. Before you leave my protection you will have the knowledge you seek. It will not be much longer.”

  His cryptic answers had, at first, angered Allisia. Now, she was used to them and did not push for more. Allisia simply nodded. She stood, clearing the table, until Nicodemus shooed her away. “I have been alone for many years, child. I can manage to clean this place on my own.”

  “I would like to know more about you,” Allisia said.

  Nicodemus looked at her, puzzled for a moment, and then he shrugged. “I was once a council member to a great race of people that are favored by God, but now, I’m just an old man.”

  “How did you get here?” Allisia asked. “Where are you from?”

  “I am from the Old World. I traveled the seas with the fisherman for years, helping him. One day, I realized I was too old and weak to be of much good to him on the boat, so I decided to find a nice, quiet place to settle down. That was a long time ago.”

  Suddenly thinking of Kristian, Allisia asked, “Can a man change the way he is?”

  “I once was blessed enough to meet someone. He was only a simple and poor man, and I was a highly regarded member of my community, but still, I was drawn to him. I called him Teacher because he taught me that it is never too late to start over. No matter what has happened or how old you are, it is never too late to start over. He was a powerful man of God,” Nicodemus assured Allisia.

  “We don’t really know each other very well,” Allisia admitted. “That doesn’t sound very promising for two people that are supposed to get married.”

  “It would seem to me that it means you both get a second chance to make your lives better,” Nicodemus said, smiling.

  “What is this gift?” Allisia insisted on knowing. “I’ve got to understand what is going to happen to me, to Kristian, to our people. I have to understand why Ferral has become so powerful and what has happened to Erinia.”

  “If you cannot understand what has happened here in Erinia, how can you possibly comprehend what I want to tell you about Heaven’s plans for you?” Nicodemus challenged. It was obvious that he was not going to tell Allisia anything useful.

  With nothing better to do she stepped outside for some fresh air. Allisia wrapped the warm cloak tight about her and took a deep breath.

  The peacefulness of the cottage should have been comforting, but she could not keep her head from buzzing. Allisia had seen many horrors. There were too many things that needed doing, and she felt small, insignificant, and not of much importance.

  How am I to use this precious gift? Allisia asked herself for the thousandth time. She started to get dizzy again. Her vision narrowed as images of silent soldiers appeared in her mind. The silent ones struggled to climb up the side of a strongly fortified mountain fortress. Warriors from atop the battlements poured hot oil down on them. Some of the silent attackers fell, melted by the steaming liquid. Others ignored the damage done to their bodies by climbing over their brethren like ants swarming toward their prey.

  Allisia fell to her knees on the wooden porch gasping for air. As the fog in her head began to clear, she had one last vision of the demon directing more of the dead up the wall toward the living. Then the familiar queasiness swept over Allisia, and she got sick.

  A few minutes passed before Allisia was able to stand. When she did, her eyes were filled with tears. She quickly blinked and wiped them away with the back of her hand. A faint light beyond the trees flickered then, drawing her attention.

  Allisia walked down the winding path through the woods out onto the sands of the beach. She looked out across the Utwan Sea at the lights she saw far out on the water. Her heart stopped. There was a ship approaching Nicodemus’s bay.

  How did Ferral find me so quickly? Allisia almost screamed as a hand grabbed her shoulder turning her around. Nicodemus signaled for her to remain silent. “They have come much sooner than I expected. I don’t think you are ready, but we have no choice. They will be here soon.”

  Allisia could hear Nicodemus talking to himself as he pulled her back toward the cottage. “I suppose that is the way it always is. Isn’t it? Yes, well, that is how we are all challenged, I suppose.” Nicodemus chuckled, “Oh, but he must want you desperately, Allisia. Ferral is much stronger than I anticipated, but no worry, you shall be stronger than even him. It will challenge your mind and body, but you will have the power to counter that evil man.”

  Nicodemus left Allisia out front of the small home as he collected some items from inside. He quickly came out again taking her further into the woods. Nicodemus stopped under a large oak. They were close enough to still see his home, but from a more concealed spot. He motioned for Allisia to sit on one of the old roots, pulling out a flask and a small wooden cup from a deep pocket in his coat. Nicodemus pulled the cork out of the flask, poured the contents into the cup, careful not to spill a drop, and then handed the cup to Allisia.

  “Do you accept this gift from God, this miraculous draught?” Nicodemus asked Allisia in all seriousness.

  Allisia sat there without saying a word, staring at the cup. Voices inside her mind screamed, “No, don’t take it!” She ignored the warning and took the cup from Nicodemus. It was thick and swirled slowly around the inside of the cup as she tilted it to get a better look. It looked red, was it blood? Allisia’s eyes widened in fear; she had no idea what to do or how this would help her escape Ferral.

  “It isn’t really blood,” Nicodemus answered, reading her thoughts. “It’s symbolic of the journey you must take. God’s power works through the draught. It will help you to see him and to understand what he shows you.”

  “Who will I see?” Allisia asked. Nicodemus did not answer her this time. He simply held out the cup and waited for her take it.

  A lifetime could have passed before Allisia finally responded, “I do.” She drank deeply.

  Overhead, a dark swirling mass hovered, watching the entire scene. It briefly coalesced into the shape of a winged serpent before a gust of wind forced it back into mist.

  The Endargo’s crew had already suffered the loss of two Black Guardsmen. The storm that had almost sunk the merchant ship had thrown two of the guards overboard. They fell without a noise into the heavy waves, disappearing immediately. No time was lost in mourning them; the crew had to fight to keep the small craft from sinking.

  Their captain, Telosep, had been afraid to undertake this mission. “My craft is too small for the task you have handed us, My Lord.” He had tried to explain. “The waters can be very treacherous this time of year. I would recommend you try a larger merchant ship or a galley, My Lord.”

  Telosep was convinced to take the job after Lieutenant Inneskel, the Black Guards officer assigned the task of bringing Allisia back, struck him hard in the mouth. Telosep had spit out a few teeth and rubbed his swollen bloody mouth, but the captain said nothing. He knew what it would mean for him and his crew to disobey Ferral’s men.

  The Endargo was not that small. It had two separate cargo areas, each with enough room to house the lieutenant and his men. They secured their horses in the forward hold, and then the guards made themselves comfortable in the hold closer to the stern.

  Telosep had tried to keep the shoreline in s
ight, but their luck had turned bad when they ran into a winter storm hammering the eastern shore of the Utwan Sea. The high winds threatened to throw the smaller vessel against the rocks close to shore. Telosep had no choice but to sail out to deeper waters. When the storm had finally abated, two soldiers were counted as missing; most of the horses had broken their legs or were so frightened they had to be killed. The storm had also destroyed much of the foodstuffs. Now, as Inneskel’s men clambered into the rowboat, Telosep wondered what else could go wrong. This was one of the few times that the seaman was glad to be getting his feet back on solid ground.

  As the Belarnians pulled toward shore, they hit something that raised the entire boat out of the water. Men shouted in horror as the small wooden craft capsized. One heavily armored guard sank like a rock beneath the water. He barely gasped out the word “help” before the current pulled him under.

  Telosep hung on to the half submerged boat helping those close by. The water was too cold; if they did not reach shore soon they might all die. Exhausted, they finally managed to drag the boat up onto the beach. Telosep noticed a few more men missing.

  Luckily, Telosep thought, none of them are my men.

  Inneskel cursed, furious. He had lost four men and they had not even encountered anyone, yet. The Belarnian leader motioned for his remaining twelve men to spread out. They soon found the small trail leading into the forest. Inneskel signaled for two of his men to scout ahead. The guards hesitated, wondering what danger might find them next.

  Inneskel swore at them, “Get moving, you cowards.” Looking up at the night sky, he could barely see the black mist Ferral had told him to follow.

  Allisia choked and gagged. She gripped a root of the old tree trying to fight back the pain that seared through her body. Images jumped through her mind in a jumbled mix of colors. Most went by too quickly to understand. Others stayed just long enough for her to recognize them.

  She sees two armed men walking down a familiar path at night. They see a small cottage ahead. One slips on a wet rock and falls heavily. The image provides no sound, but surely his head made an ugly sound as it smashed into the rock on the ground. The look of disbelief from the other man she sees is enough to bring a slight smile to Allisia’s face.

  That isn’t funny, Allisia reprimands herself, but she cannot help it.

  More images flash by and she has a quick glimpse of Kristian. She strains her mind to focus on him and is able to get the image to stay.

  Allisia sees him clinging to a rock near water, waves crashing all around him. He struggles to climb up. Gray and black marble ruins await him at the end of a long and dark tunnel.

  More images began to flash by. She sees the demon and Ferral’s army of dead warriors attacking the mountain fortress again. Vast quantities of smoke make it difficult to discern what transpires in any detail. Allisia then sees Ferral himself. He sits, brooding on his throne of skulls. The sorcerer tries to take a deep breath, but a pain in his side, coming from where she stabbed him, forces him to cough. He almost falls out of his seat. Allisia laughs again feeling no remorse for her attack on the madman.

  She sees Nicodemus sitting at his table poring over several ancient scrolls. He is trying to teach her something.

  “There are several scrolls, Allisia,” Nicodemus tells her. “Each one is difficult to decipher and can take a lifetime to understand and master.”

  The old man pushes one of the scrolls toward her. “You must study and remember them,” Nicodemus says.

  “I can’t read them,” Allisia replies after taking one look at the paper. “It’s in a language I don’t understand.”

  “Read it,” he urges. Allisia shrugs her shoulders and looks closer at the writing, still not understanding any of what is on the scroll.

  “Some powers can be used for good. Others can only be used for evil. You must decide … you must choose,” Nicodemus warns her.

  Allisia begins to concentrate on the scroll, but a sudden wind blows open the door and the scrolls fly everywhere.

  She tries to understand what she has seen, the effort immediately futile. The scene changes once again and new images begin to fly past her uncontrollably. The colors swirl beyond her and through her; she thinks she might get sick again. Instead, Allisia laughs and keeps on laughing. She cannot help herself. This is too much to expect of her. Allisia knows she will never be capable of understanding any of what she sees.

  The images stop. One scene stays frozen in Allisia’s mind. She sees a cavern lit by a river of fire and blood, and she hears the screams of countless lost souls. Allisia screams at the image of her father chained to a pillar being tormented by little monsters. The small horned demons jump up and down, all around him. The king of Duellr kicks at the demons, pleading for them to stop. Every once in a while, one gets in under his fat legs and takes a chunk of flesh away with its razor sharp teeth.

  The king cries out in pain and sorrow. Allisia calls out to him, but the scene jumps to another part of the cavern. She sees many others that she recognizes; all of them tormented in some different and twisted fashion. Then she sees a lone figure standing on an outcropping. The woman is beautiful; long golden hair falls down over her bare shoulders. She has delicate features that any man would desire. Her red lips glisten and her deep blue eyes can capture any man’s heart. Allisia knows this is the demon, the one that has murdered her father and brother and destroyed Kristian’s kingdom.

  The demon watches all of the suffering around her in silence, tears falling down her face. She raises her hands to plead, and where her hands reach to, Allisia’s gaze follows—up beyond the rocks, smoke, and cries of the damned.

  Her vision becomes an image of a starry night sky. It is peaceful, with more stars in the heavens than Allisia has ever seen. One star shines particularly bright. It twinkles and appears to grow larger.

  The star keeps getting closer until the sphere of light opens into a land of perfection. A walled city a thousand times larger than any Allisia has ever seen fills her vision. Tall buildings of marble and granite form plazas around beautiful hanging gardens. Rivers of deep blue water cascade down around the city separating it into different sections. All of the sections point toward a magnificent palace in the center. It is so bright that it is difficult to see.

  A man in simple robes steps out of the palace to greet her. He is handsome, with short brown hair and a beard. His big brown eyes speak to her of peace. Allisia realizes it is the old fisherman that watched over her and protected her in previous dreams. This is the same man but he appears as he must have in his prime, strong and confident.

  The fisherman raises his hands as if to give her a hug, like she is his sister, but then he stops. His eyes suddenly become sad, his smile replaced by a grimace of pain. The man points out toward the wall that protects the city. Allisia can barely make out anything through all of the buildings, but something does not seem right. As she focuses on the wall she begins to discern brown spots covering parts of the marble. Not just brown but gray and green spots, as well. It is decay, a sickness and rot slowly tearing at the walls of Paradise. As she watches, Allisia sees one discolored brick fall and smash on the ground.

  The fisherman looks down in shame for a moment, but then raises his head to look at her. His smile returns and he calls out her name, “Allisia.” The word is golden as it comes from his lips. “Keep faith, Allisia.”

  He reaches out to touch her, as if she is really there. As he gets closer, the city around him begins to swirl. The images fade in and out again, but the fisherman stays with Allisia. Demons of all shape and size scream at her, but she ignores them. Allisia can only stare at him; to look away will certainly mean her doom. The last image fades away, leaving her in darkness.

  Allisia lay next to the old tree still clinging to its roots. She could not move or talk. So many pictures and warnings tumbled through her mind that she could not concentrate. Allisia never even felt the rough hands that grabbed her and
dragged her back toward the beach. The Belarnians cursed at her and threatened to harm her if she did not cooperate. Allisia still could not move; she tried to move her arms but they felt like stone.

  Allisia barely noticed the cottage engulfed in flames, and she did not see Nicodemus’s body lying sprawled out on the porch. She looked into the flames that had been her refuge and saw an image of a fiery mountain. Uncontrolled images still continued to flood her mind wherever she looked.

  Allisia laughed the rest of the way to the Endargo.