Reborn (5 page)

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Authors: Jeff Gunzel

Tags: #Magic, #Sword & Sorcery, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #dark fantasy epic fantasy science fiction action adventure thriller, #Epic, #Literature & Fiction

BOOK: Reborn
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Jade stepped forward, hoping to defuse the sudden tension. “Please, Nima, don’t think we are ungrateful. It’s just that–”

“Then try and display a shred of dignity,” Nima fired back. Jade graciously swallowed her remaining words. She had learned long ago when it was best not to speak. Nima gazed around the room. “You all feel you are prisoners here? Feel you are being treated harshly?” She shook her head in disgust. “Do you have any idea how many children will never see their fathers again?” She paused, allowing the gravity of her statement to hang in the air. “And do you understand how many of them blame all of you? I might be the only person in the village who doesn’t care to see your heads on pikes.” Her eyes narrowed. “And even that is only because mine would be placed next to yours.”

Athel stood up from her bedroll. “Nima, we’re so sorry. You’ve done so much for us already.” Her voice softened. “So much for me. There must be something we can do to make this right.”

“Which brings me to the reason for my visit,” said Nima as she ran slender fingers through her long, black hair. “The final observance will be held tonight, and our honored dead will finally be at peace. I have been instructed to inform you that you must all be in attendance.”

“We would be honored to ate—”

“You have no say in the matter,” said Nima, cutting off Athel. “You
will
be there. My orders have come straight from Kelus.”

“And when do I finally get to meet this honorable man?” Eric inquired evenly, his calm face never betraying his true thoughts.

Nima matched his gaze, silently impressed by the young man’s ever-growing confidence. “He waits for you now.”

* * *

None of the party was blindfolded this time as the small contingent of soldiers led them through the streets. The soldiers’ green capes flapped and rolled with each step as they led the group across the worn dirt path, and the black leather armor they wore swished and crackled. With oversized wicker helmets that hung low on their faces, their expressions remained a mystery to all. Nima led the pack, showing no emotion as her eyes remained focused straight ahead. The four companions all breathed deeply as the cool air gently kissed their faces. Although cold, it still felt refreshing, considering how long they had been cooped up in that shack of a room.

Men who had just been cutting wood and working on broken homes stopped to stare. Women with baskets of clothes perched on their heads, balanced on top of rolled towels, glared with unbridled hatred. Most of the group kept their eyes low, withering under the overbearing scrutiny, but Eric returned their looks with both patience and sadness. He understood it was nothing personal. How could they be faulted for what was burning in their hearts? They had lost so much already, and someone needed to be blamed.
Blame me. After all, this is all my fault
. He shared in their sadness, felt their pain.
More death because of me. When will it ever end?
He gazed up into the blue sky, taking a deep breath as fluffy clouds rolled along in the mild breeze.
At what point can one’s sins no longer be forgiven? Do I have to die a thousand times to make things right
? Eric looked back to those angry faces. “A small price to pay for the pain I’ve caused,” he whispered to no one. Jade glanced at him briefly, not sure if he had just spoken or not.

The broken trees from the battle had been mostly removed now, and only a few splintered trunks remained. Homes and buildings that had been severely damaged now had new walls and paper windows in place. Even the ones that were completely crushed now had the debris cleared away, and new wooden frames stood in their place. These simple structures used so little materials, that it looked as though the rebuilding would be done sooner rather than later.

Nima raised her hand without looking back, then pointed to the left. Two of the soldiers quickly marched ahead, spun on their heels, then disappeared around the corner. Turning the corner, the four companions saw the guards now standing on either side of a large dark-green tent, with the ends of their spears planted in the ground. They stood still as statues while peeking through the bars of their wicker helmets.

The massive tent was square, with various gold and red looping designs swirling across the canvas. Some patterns gave the appearance of misty smoke rising up from an open fire, while others flared out like wild vines, then flowed into what looked like the heads of large reptiles.

The double flap slowly spread open as golden, fringed tassels hung down, wiggling like small fingers. A small, bald man ducked through the opening and stopped in front of them. He wore a black robe with white trim circling around the sleeves and base. The small man looked to be well into his seventies, but his smile was warm and kind. “Please come inside,” he said as he motioned to the companions. “Kelus is eager to meet you all.” Eric approached first, looking down at the little man. After holding his unblinking gaze a few seconds, Eric nodded before entering.

The strong scent of spicy incense assaulted their senses the moment they entered the cluttered tent. Four armed men stood around a long rectangle table. Each was tall, muscular and shirtless, and they stood still as statues, with arms crossed and hands resting on the hilts of their double scabbards, one strapped to each side. Although motionless, it was apparent those blades would eagerly come free at a moment’s notice. It was impossible to read their expressions through the large metal helmets that covered their entire heads. Tightly woven metal grills masked their faces while a thick, scaled plate fanned down from the top, protecting all sides of the head and neck.

At the head of the table sat a thin man, his impressive height apparent even though he remained seated. A silver-banded headpiece decorated with long, colorful feathers pulled back his long, jet-black hair. With white paint covering his entire face, he appeared ghostly and spirit-like, which only made the thin line of black painted around both eyes stand out boldly. Leaning hard to one side, the man looked rather bored, rubbing his long black fingernails across the chair arm. With a long, thin mustache and cold dark eyes, he did not look the patient type.

Nima moved to stand directly behind Kelus as the others tentatively took seats around the table. Eric, however, drifted about the room as if he were the only one here, taking in his full surroundings. The bare canvas walls gently pumped in and out to the rhythm of the outside breeze. Bags lay bout the room, held closed by coarse frayed drawstrings most likely made from horsehair. He gazed down at the black rug with red squares and gold trim, a beautiful ornate piece that seemed out of place in the makeshift tent.

“Ahem,” came the less than patient grunt as the tall man stood, glaring at Eric as if he had just stolen something. “I ask that you be seated along with your companions. We have much to discuss,” he said in a deep voice that resembled rolling thunder. It was clear the man was nearly a head taller than Eric.

“I agree,” said Eric over his shoulder nonchalantly, as if speaking of the weather. He walked along the side of the tent, running his hand across the coarse canvas. “But I think I’ll stand, if it’s all the same to you.”

Kelus growled, his fists clenching tightly before sitting back down. “I think it’s time you all tell me where you came from and why you are here.”

Eric quickly spun about, placing his hands firmly on the table. He looked at Kelus for some time before speaking. “My name is Eric Aethello, but you knew that already, didn’t you?” He went on without waiting for a response. Gesturing around the table, he said, “This is Jade Ethrista, Jacob Couture, and Athel Thenalra. Our homeland is known as Tarmerria, but you seem to refer to our lands as ‘the old world.’” He raised an eyebrow. “But you knew that as well.”

Kelus rose from his chair, slamming both fists down on the table. The four guards tensed—the first time they had even proved to be alive—but kept their blades sheathed. “How dare you! I’ll have you all–”

Eric went on, ignoring Kelus as well as the shushing protests from the others, who were begging him to keep quiet. “Your representatives have asked the same questions day after day. They question us when they bring our meals, if you can call our daily cold rice sustenance. They ask again when finally getting around to replacing our buckets, and each time we patiently answer the same repetitive questions. No doubt you’ve been cross-referencing, searching for inconsistencies in our stories as your daily reports roll in.” His voice remained calm and steady despite his obvious irritation. “And now I think this has gone on long enough.”

“Do you think this to be some sort of game?” Kelus boomed as color flooded his face, showing even through the white paint. Nima looked to Eric, shaking her head vigorously with her eyes bulged, a desperate plea to stop angering their leader. The others wore similar expressions of horror, wondering what in the world he was thinking. Had he lost his mind? Long black fingernails clacked angrily across the table over and over again, playing their song of promised punishment. “I should have you hung and put on display for all to see. Believe me, I would have no shortage of support in that decision.”

“And who exactly are you to make such decisions?” said Eric quickly, his voice smooth and calm, but his glare burning a hole through Kelus.

“Wha— Why, I’m— What are you talking abou—” Kelus’s voice began to quiver and break. Eric’s eyes were cool ice, a hawk watching a mouse. “I…You must obey—” A panicked glance across the room betrayed the tall man’s thoughts.

Eric leaned away from the table. “I no longer wish to play this game. I’m done speaking to you.” The man’s mouth opened and shut wordlessly as Eric pointed back toward the tent opening with a steady finger. Every eye in the room followed his gaze. “I want to speak with him.”

The thin, bald man stood at the entrance with his arms folded across his chest, his seemingly ever-present smile warming the tension in the room. Nima quickly looked away, a failed attempt to hide the tight smile that flashed across her face. The tall man shrieked with anger, “You make no decisions here! You answer only to m—”

“Silence, Hitoshi,” said the small man, his constant smile never wavering. “He knows.”

Eyes wide with shock watched as Eric moved toward the small man. “Kelus,” he said with a slight bow, his eyes low.

The small man lightly pushed up on Eric’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “Dongtea bretea. It’s a pleasure.” He peeked around Eric’s huge frame. “Hitoshi.” The tall man slapped his arms to his sides, lowering his head. “Brotyu Ke ti lango.” He looked around the table, his kind eyes taking in each startled individual one at a time. “Entertain our guests. I want to speak with this man...privately.” Hitoshi began to protest, but was silenced by a hard look. “They have shown no aggression thus far, and until they do...” the little man’s dark eyes momentarily flared with anger that was gone in a flash, replaced once again with calm patience. Hitoshi closed his mouth and silently nodded agreement. Kelus turned back to Eric, “Come and walk with me. We have much to discuss.”

* * *

The forest was not dense by any means. Scattered trees provided minimal cover as the two walked side by side down the leaf-covered path. Eric’s senses remained heightened, like an animal sure danger lurked around every corner. A light snap of a twig off to the side, the soft cooing of a large white-feathered bird he had never seen before, even the constant crunching of dead leaves seemed to rattle through him with each careful step. The forest was calm by almost any measure, yet he could still feel it teeming with life, as if each living creature were watching, somehow holding some personal interest in their conversation.

“A wonderful day for a walk, is it not?” said the small man as he shuffled along, a lively walk far too spry for a man of his advanced years. “I have walked this path countless times, yet I never tire of its mystery and beauty. Somehow it feels different to me every time—a new adventure, if you will.” He stopped and turned, suddenly smacking an open hand into Eric’s chest, stopping him dead in his tracks. Again, the speed at which this little man moved completely defied his age. Eric silently cursed himself.
Had he been holding a dagger, I would be dead
.
Have got to be more careful
...
Trust no one
. “Stop right here,” Kelus said, smiling up at Eric. “Do you see that tree over there?”

“Which one? I see many trees,” Eric replied as his eyes scanned across the area.

“See, right there.” The small man shook his finger toward an old, withered tree to the left of the path. The trunk was bent, and covered with peeling flakes of black bark. “Look closely, boy. There is a fresh hole near the upper portion of the tree.” Eric strained his eyes before nodding his agreement. There was indeed a hole exposing the fresh cream-colored wood. “That hole was not there yesterday. The tree now looks different to me.” He beamed, as if that were all the explanation anyone could ever need, but reading Eric’s confused expression, he went on. “I have seen that tree a thousand times, but it will never again look the way I’ve always remembered it. It’s changed forever, that’s what’s so exiting about it. Each time I walk this path, something is always a little different.” He stopped and turned to Eric, looking a bit more serious this time. “That is how life is, my boy. Ever-changing, whether or not we take the time to stop and appreciate it.” He looked off to the forest, eyes distant, as if reliving some old memory. “When you have lived as many years as I have, the little things in life become rather precious.”

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