Into Eden: Pangaea - Book 1 (4 page)

“Everyone stay where you are!” he bellowed as another woman slipped out the other entrance. “Nobody moves!” At this he waived his large sword in the air. For a moment it seemed as if his efforts at crowd-control were working, for the shouting stopped and the two screaming women had fled. Then, from the top of the stairway above, a human stuck his head out and then slammed the door as he saw the chaotic—and terrifying scene below him. Behind the door a dog started to bark frantically, and Anubis feared that the shouting and screaming would start again any moment. Just my luck, he thought, between the screaming human females and some stupid dog barking, Nashon’s probably already ridden off to safety. But as he focused at the door that had been slammed in his face, he had a thought: if that human wants me to stay out, that’s the door that I’m going through.

Anubis charged up the stairs in pursuit of the human with the hooded man right behind him. Suddenly, below him he heard one of his jackal-heads cry out, “General, did you see…?”

“Silence!” Anubis roared, “I told you never to address…” But before he could complete his sentence, he saw what the soldier was pointing at. On the wall, above the very doors that he had just come through was a painting of former General Nashon with his foot on the chest of a dead jackal-head.

“Murderer!” Anubis screamed, and then let out a blood-curdling howl that reverberated throughout the house. Startled, one of the women in the room below screamed. The howl was so piercing that even those that didn’t respond verbally could feel goose-pimples from the unexpected outburst. Anubis swung around and bounded up the rest of the stairway in three large leaps.

Inside the bedroom Josiah was panicking. What he had seen in the room below confused and terrified him. The dog’s incessant barking was making it impossible for him to concentrate.

“What is it?” Jesse demanded. “What’s going on down there?”

Josiah stared back at him, saying nothing. Jesse started for the door, and Josiah blocked it, “Get out.” His voice was barely audible.

“GET OUT!” he repeated, but this time he was shouting and pointing to the door at the opposite end of the bedroom. At that moment a horrible, loud howl could be heard from the other side of the door behind Josiah and the women jumped up as if on cue and ran toward the far door, with Doc Paron close behind them.

“Leave, Jesse!” Josiah ordered again. “LEAVE!”

“NO,” Jesse yelled back. “I don’t know what’s out there, but I’m not leaving Father!”

At that moment the door behind Josiah ripped from its hinges and flew inward, knocking him to the floor and covering him with splinters and broken door-framing. As it did, a one-eyed jackal-head brandishing a sword and wearing full armor and missing half an ear rushed in with a hooded man and four other armed jackal-heads immediately behind him.

Jesse could do nothing but stare at the creatures in a mixture of fear and curiosity. He had heard of an-nef all his life, but never before this moment had he seen one. Never in his life did he expect to see one. For his part, the jackal-head said nothing for a long time, but surveyed the massive bed and the dying form that lay on it.

The jackal-head was the first to speak, “Is that him? Do your job, man, and tell me.” He addressed the hooded man.

When the hooded man tried to approach the bed Jesse stepped in front of him, “Stay away from my father.”

“Your father, you say?” the jackal-head snarled. “And just who are you?”

“Jesse.”

“From what house do you hail?”

“From the house of Nashon.”

At that the jackal-head seemed to smile a little. “That so? From the house of Nashon? Well, Jesse from the house of Nashon, step aside and let the man do his job or I’ll cut your head off and feed it to this dog.”

The jackal-head never raised his voice, but Jesse believed that it was no bluff. This creature would do exactly as he said, so he stepped aside to let the hooded man pass, but all the while thinking of the two spears on the wall just a few feet away. Perhaps if he moved fast enough then he could yank one down before they could react. But even if he did he surely would die before he had a chance to use it. Six against one was not good odds. Josiah had tried to stand back up, but another of the jackal-heads put his boot on his chest and had stuck the mechanical bow in his face threatening to shoot him if he tried again. And what of his father? If for some reason they were intent on harming him could he stop it?
Should
he stop it? If the doctor was right his father’s life could likely be measured in hours now. If these an-nef were intent on killing him why not let them? His father’s spirit would just leap into the dog that was chained to the bed and these intruders would leave thinking that they had accomplished their sinister mission. Better to let them do what they had come for then to risk his life for no purpose.

The hooded man leaned over his father’s head and held a candle above it. Jesse’s father stared back at the man with knowing eyes as hot wax dripped onto the old giant’s forehead. They were all monsters, Jesse thought. The hooded man especially, for he was tormenting a dying man with not an ounce of compassion. But Jesse could see his father’s eyes widen as he stared back at the man, and was sure from the recognition in his eyes that Nashon knew him. Even the hood, it seemed, could not conceal his identity.

“Yep,” the hooded man said at last, “that’s him. The old general himself. Not so tough without your chariot, are you, old giant?”

Now the one-eyed jackal-head stepped forward, and as he did, he pointed at Jesse. “If this one tries to interfere,” he told one of the jackal-heads—for he was obviously the one in charge, “kill him.” Then the jackal-head placed the tip of his sword on Nashon’s chest with both hands.

“I’ve waited almost five-hundred years for this night, General,” he said, looking Nashon in the eyes. “Now it’s time to settle a debt. And I always pay my debts.” With that he rammed the sword through the giant’s chest. Nashon gasped, but his body moved but slightly. Jesse felt sick to his stomach. He could see the blood start to soak his father’s night clothes and then he could hear air as it rushed out of Nashon’s falling lungs. His father was dead.

The one-eyed jackal-head began to laugh, then jerked his sword out of the now motionless giant, and wiped the blood off on the sheets. Sheathing his sword he strolled—almost swaggered to the foot of the bed.

Soon my father’s spirit will enter the host, Jesse thought. Gods, make it so!

Suddenly the dog at the foot of the bed began to howl in a most mournful, plaintive manner, jerking on its chain while lying on the floor and kicking frantically as if it were having a seizure.

The one-eyed jackal-head turned on the dog. “Doggie, I know why you’re here,” he said with a smile, bending over to face the animal. Then, without warning, he grabbed the dog by its neck and stood up, shaking it violently. Jesse and Josiah could hear a “snap” as the dog’s neck broke, and he tossed the lifeless animal to the floor with a thud.

“Com’n! We’re done here!” the jackal-head said as he turned to leave.

Jesse, who had been struggling with both grief and fear, was now overcome with rage. Before he could think about it he ripped one of the spears off the wall and charged his father’s murderer. The jackal-head had just enough time to glance over his right shoulder at his attacker before Jesse rammed the spear between the shoulder-pad and the breastplate, burying it deep in the an-nef’s flesh. Immediately two of the other jackal-heads swung and fired their mechanical bows. The first arrow caught Jesse in the right arm with such force that it spun him around. The second pierced his left arm, pinning it to his chest. Jesse fell to the floor with a “thud” and then all went black.

Anubis sunk to the floor and he began a loud, painful howl. Down below Zerah had been keeping order, but when he heard his commander’s howls he bounded up the stairs, crossbow at the ready. When he got there Anubis had already yanked the spearhead out and sat on the floor with his back against the wall, but blood now poured from his side. Zerah quickly pulled the pillow off the bed and shook off its cover. He wadded up the pillowcase and pressed it hard into Anubis’ side to stop the bleeding, but Anubis howled all the louder and cursed him by every god in Eden.

With the general incapacitated, Zerah was in command. He thought briefly about what to do next, and then approached Josiah, still lying on the floor. Aiming his crossbow at Josiah’s head, he asked him, “Is there a doctor in the house?”

“Nooooo...” Josiah replied, but the answer sounded more like a question then a statement.

This time Zerah placed the tip of the crossbow’s bolt on Josiah’s nose, “You mean to tell me that a wealthy giant like the late Nashon here, was on his sickbed unattended by a doctor? I find that hard to believe. Now human, lie to me again and I’ll kill you.”

Josiah hesitated only slightly, “Well, my father did have a doctor at his side, but he ran when you burst in. I don’t know where he is.”

Zerah relaxed his crossbow, and then jerked Josiah to his feet, “You’re coming with me!” To the other jackal-heads he ordered, “The rest of you stay here. Guard him and keep pressure on the wound.”

As he stood up, Josiah could now see the side of the bed where Jesse lay motionless. “Jesse!” he called.

“Don’t waste your time with him,” one of the jackal-heads snapped. “He’s keeping your father company in Hades!”

Before Josiah could respond, Zerah grabbed him by his collar and pushed him through the demolished doorway and ahead of him down the stairs. When they got to the bottom Zerah gave him a shove into the small crowd, “Don’t wander off!”

Zerah then shouted at those in the room, “There’s a doctor somewhere in this building. I am of need of his services and I want him found!” Next he crossed the room to the hourglass on the hearth as the crowd parted to give him room. The sand was almost gone, but he flipped it over. “I will execute one human every ten minutes until he is found! Is that clear?!”

No one answered, but he could see a look of dread on everyone’s face, and they all seemed to shuffle back a little further from him.

“Good,” he said at last, then pointed to Josiah. “You! Go find him. And remember, one human every ten minutes until you come back here with the doctor!”

Josiah pushed his way through the crowd to the door below the stairway he had just descended. Those in the room could hear him as he ran down the hall shouting for Doc Paron. Then, all eyes focused on the hourglass on the mantle over hearth, and the six tiny red tick-marks that ran from bottom to top.

It seemed like hours had passed as the sand approached its first mark. Then, without warning, the centurion grabbed a blond girl an arms-length away and pulled her in front of him. She struggled, but to no avail. Zerah had a death-grip on a fistful of her hair.

“But it hasn’t been ten minutes!” she cried.

“Close enough,” he said, then drew his sword.

“WAAIIIT!!” Josiah yelled as he ran back into the room. “I have him! The doctor’s right behind me!”

Zerah looked at the girl accusingly for a moment, and then released her hair as an old man with a leather bag appeared at the door. Doc Paron was out of breath from running, and visibly shaken.

“Who needs my services?” he asked.

“Come with me,” Zerah replied, and with that the jackal-head and the human doctor headed up the stairs together. When they entered the bedroom they found Anubis still leaning against the wall and moaning.

“Fix him!” Zerah ordered. “Sow him back up so that he can travel.”

“I’m not a surgeon,” Doc Paron protested. “I’m just a country doctor!”

“Your life for his,” Zerah told him. “Now just fix him!”

Doc Paron ran his hands though this thinning gray hair. “I need a place to work. And more light. Those candles won’t do.”

In a minute or so the jackal-heads had rolled Nashon’s body off the bed, leaving a blood soaked feather mattress behind. Next they dragged Jesse around to the other side of the bed, laying him beside his father. A candelabra was brought from the dining room for light and the jackal-heads carried Anubis and lay him on his side on the bed in Nashon’s blood. During the whole time Anubis, now weak from blood loss himself, cursed his an-nef and threatened them with whippings, beatings, and crucifixion for the pain that they were inflicting on him. Finally, Doc Paron had bottles of wine brought up from the wine cellar. Three of the bottles he had the wounded jackal-head guzzle as an anesthetic, another he sipped on as he sewed him back together. It had taken time, but finally, he was done.

“I don’t recommend moving him for at least a week,” Doc Paron told the jackal-head in charge. “That wound needs time to heal and the stitches can break. The spear punctured his right lung.”

“Of course, doctor,” Zerah replied. “Perhaps we can invite the governor over to change his bandages as well?” Then he ordered one of the soldiers, “You! Steal a buckboard and a horse. Pull it around front immediately. And you two,” he went on, “take him downstairs and put him in the buckboard.”

The jackal-heads went immediately to their tasks, and Anubis renewed his cursing and threats as they carried him down the stairs, “May the godzz blind youuu! I’ll cut your headzz off! I’ll…I’ll…” Finally, he passed out. “Thank the gods,” one of the jackal-heads muttered as he carried his commander out the front door.

With the jackal-heads out of the building, Nashon’s family pressed against the windows to look outside. It was the first time that anyone had been able to since the siege had begun. There, under the torchlight by the courtyard’s gate they saw for the first time Asa’s crumpled body. Beyond him in the darkness the last of the jackal-heads rode off into the night.

Chapter 4
Horse-head Rock

Back at the stone fortress that sat on the hill marking Albion’s center, Hezron lay on his bed unable to sleep. On an estate outside of town, his old friend Nashon lay dying. He had known Nashon for over six-hundred years—since their days as young officers back in Atlantis. When the empire spread south the two of them had fought side by side as the Atlantan legion claimed more and more territory for the empire. He and Nashon had driven out the natives in this lush corner of Pangaea and given their land to settlers from Atlantis. They had expelled the remaining an-nef as well, and forced them to flee south beyond the Fog Mountains to the jungles of Eden. “Atlantis for Atlantans” had been their motto. Besides, he thought, the an-nef and the others would be happier with their own kind, wouldn’t they? But now he wondered.