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Authors: Gilbert L. Morris

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BOOK: Savage Games of Lord Zarak
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“I'm going down to the creek and fix a trot line,” Reb said abruptly. “Catch us some fish for breakfast.”

“Guess I'll go with you,” Wash said quickly.

“I might as well go, too,” Dave said.

And then Jake decided that he wanted to go as well.

Roland found himself alone with just the two girls and Josh. “Guess they can't stand to hear the truth,” he said. “What about you, Josh? Are you really scared of this Dark Lord?”

Josh had once been in the clutches of the San
hedrin and had known the terror of Elmas's dark spells. He had faced death more than once at their hands. He said carefully, “I know there is a power in Nuworld that is not good. And I know I wouldn't trust myself to deal with it. Without the help of Goél, yes, I would be afraid.”

“You have to trust in Goél, Roland,” Sarah said. “Not in yourself. Goél has strength that somehow he's able to put into his servants. Let me tell you about the time that he saved me from certain death . . .”

Sarah told about the time she had faced death in the Dark Tower. “It was Goél,” she said, “who assured me that all would be well. And it was all well, thanks to him.”

Roland listened to all this with a superior smile on his face. “I believe they call that self-hypnosis,” he said when she finished. “You two can believe whatever you want. Goél seems like a nice enough fellow, but I'm trusting in Roland Winters.”

Josh and Sarah exchanged glances.

Later, just before they separated to roll up in their blankets for the night, Sarah said softly, “Don't let Roland get you down, Josh. He just doesn't know.”

Josh nodded grimly. “Somehow, I think he's going to have to learn the way all of us did. The hard way.”

The next day the Sleepers cooked a quick fish breakfast. Roland Winters did not help. Then everyone packed hastily, and they broke camp.

 

All morning long the Seven Sleepers and Roland Winters trekked through the forest. More than once Roland tried to change Josh's mind about their route. It was obvious to Josh that, in spite of Goél's warnings, Roland wanted to be the leader himself.

They stopped at noon for a brief break and were
about to eat leftover deer steaks when Roland suddenly jumped to his feet. “There's someone out there,” he whispered. He quickly drew an arrow and notched it. “There he is. I think I can get him!”

Josh leaped forward and pulled Roland's arm down.

“What are you doing? You spoiled my aim!” Roland groused.

“Don't be so quick to kill somebody! It may be a friend.”

“A friend!” Roland scowled at him. “If they're friends, why don't they show themselves?”

“Maybe they will,” Josh said. “Put that bow away.”

Several times Josh himself had seen movement among the trees as they were winding through the forest. Nothing was ever very clear, but from time to time he would catch just a flash of something. Now he walked a short distance from the group and stood still, looking intently into the thick trees. He saw nothing, but he was sure that someone was there. Holding up his hand with the palm turned outward, Josh called, “We come in peace. We are the servants of Goél.”

For a long moment nothing happened. Then the bushes stirred, and a man appeared. He was brown as a berry, burned from the sun, and wore a short, neat beard. He had on forest green leggings that came down to green leather shoes. A green leather jerkin covered the top of his body, and atop his head sat a pointed cap with a feather rising from it. He carried a bow over his shoulder, a quiver of arrows in his hand, and a sword by his side. But he did not attempt to draw a weapon. The man came closer. “I greet you, strangers,” he said. “My name is Goodman.”

Relief washed through Josh, for there was honesty
in the man's face and friendliness in his voice. “I am glad to meet you, Goodman. My name is Josh, and these are my companions. We have been sent by Goél to your land.”

“I have heard of Goél often.” Then Goodman's eyes narrowed, and he asked, “Are you on your way to meet King Falmor?”

Josh did not know exactly how to answer that. “We understand from Goél that your land has some problems. We would like to learn more before we contact anyone,” he said. “Perhaps you would eat a meal with us . . .”

“Gladly,” Goodman said. “But first, my friends would enjoy meeting you.” He put his fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle.

Almost at once the woods came alive. At least twenty men appeared, all clothed in garb identical to their leader's.

Josh blinked. “You are good woodsmen, Goodman, to keep yourselves so well hidden.”

“We have to be if we want to keep ourselves alive. We live in this forest, and we are not in favor with the king. But if you would hear more of the kingdom of Falmor, let us have a meal together, as you suggested. We have just killed a wild pig.”

The men in green advanced. They were weather-beaten men, and all were lean and fit.

After Josh had introduced his fellow travelers, Goodman said, “Suppose we roast the pig, and then afterwards we can talk.”

“Fine,” Josh agreed.

At once the men in green went into action. They soon had a fire going and the pig roasting over it in a most efficient manner.

Josh soon found that Goodman and the other forest men were very interested in them.

“We do not see many strangers here,” Goodman said, as everyone sat near the fire, eating. He took a joint of the pig and bit off a huge mouthful. He talked around it, saying, “As a matter of fact, I might almost say none. The king does not welcome strangers into his land.”

“Do you happen to know a man called Bentain?”

“Bentain!” Goodman exclaimed with surprise in his eyes. “Indeed I do, but he is not a member of the royal court. No, indeed.”

“He is a good friend of Goél, whom we serve. Could you take us to him?”

“Gladly, gladly. His home is not far from here. After eating, we will take you. And as we travel, you can tell me more about Goél.”

 

The wild pig was strong-tasting, and Roland Winters complained. But Sarah and the other Sleepers had all learned to eat what they had while they could.

Roland was sitting close to Sarah. “How do we know we can trust these fellows?” he muttered.

“Can't you see it in their faces and in their eyes?”

“See what?”

“That they are honest men!”

Roland scowled. “I don't think you can go on that. A fellow can look pretty good on the outside and still be rotten on the inside.”

Sarah studied him thoughtfully. “That is true. But after you've served Goél awhile, Roland, you will discover that there's such a thing as . . . well . . . discernment.”

“And what's that?”

“It's hard to define. But sometimes you are able to look at a person and just
know
what he's like on the inside.”

Roland suddenly grinned. “And what did you just
know
when you first saw me, Sarah?”

So far, Sarah had said nothing at all to Roland by way of criticism. Now, though, she thought it might be well to see if she could help him. So she said, “I saw a young man who is greatly gifted and is unsure of himself and would like to be different.”

Roland's eyes flew open. “Well, you sure read me wrong! I don't want to be different. I'm satisfied with myself the way I am.”

Sarah said no more, for she saw that he was still stubborn. And she knew that something serious would have to take place before Roland Winters would listen.

Goodman and his band of forest men led the travelers along winding pathways until, perhaps an hour later, they arrived at a small farm. The place was little more than a clearing. There was a small garden, and a few pigs were kept in a pen. Over to one side was a shed where a cow peered out at them, mooing sadly. It was a rundown looking place.

The man who came out to greet them wore a frightened look. “What is it, Goodman? Is it war? Is it the king?”

“No, my friend. I bring some guests. I bring strangers who are seeking Bentain, your father.”

Surprise crossed the man's face, and he stood staring.

“This is Garn,” Goodman said. “It is his father you seek. Garn, this group comes from the one they call Goél.”

“Goél!” An older man with a white beard and white hair hurried out of the house. He was small and looked hungry, as did the younger woman and the boy and girl whom Josh could see standing back in the shadows.

“My name is Bentain,” he said. “I knew Goél in my younger days.”

Joshua felt relieved to hear that. Smiling, he advanced and bowed to the old peasant, who was wearing mostly rags. “I am happy to meet you, Bentain—and your family.”

“You bring a message from Goél?”

“Indeed we do. He wishes you well, and he has sent us to see if we can help with the problems in the kingdom of Falmor.”

Bentain smiled then. He said, “I will always serve Goél. Many do not know him in this country. Would that he would come and rule over us.”

Again Josh was aware of the hunger in the eyes of these people. When Garn said, “We will kill the pig for the evening meal. We have been saving him for such a time as this,” Josh knew he must do something.

“No. We will go out ourselves and kill a deer to provide food.”

But alarm leaped into Garn's eyes, and he shook his head vigorously. “No! No! That would mean death!”

“Death to kill a deer?” Josh was puzzled. “What do you mean, Garn?”

“All the deer belong to the king,” Bentain explained. “Anyone who kills a deer becomes one of The Hunted.”

Josh thought this was a peculiar statement. “The Hunted? What does that mean?”

Goodman's face was grim. “Anyone who kills a deer becomes the quarry in the Hunt of Death.”

The Sleepers just looked at one another, and it was Roland who finally blurted out, “What in the world is the Hunt of Death?”

Bentain and Goodman exchanged glances.

The man in green said, “As I said, those who kill deer become the quarry—the king hunts them for sport.”

“Yes,” Bentain said. “That is the Hunt of Death. Many of our people have perished that way.”

Joshua's heart sank. If the king used human beings for sport like this, how in the world could he ever be changed?

Bentain said, “Let us sit and talk while food is being prepared. I want to hear more about Goél and his plans.”

“Very well,” Josh said. “And we thank you. But we will eat only what your family usually eats. Nothing special.” He whispered to Sarah, “This is going to be harder than we thought.”

“Yes,” Sarah whispered back. “I'm afraid so.” She shivered. “Imagine hunting human beings for sport. The king must not be just proud. He must be a monster!”

5
The Hunted

I
saw poor folks back in Oldworld,” Reb muttered to Wash, “but never anything like this!”

Wash looked up at him. “Me either,” he said sadly.

The two were sitting by Garn's shed, eating a raw turnip. It was poor eating indeed, but during the days they had been camping in the forest close to the farm, they had discovered that Garn and his family lived on the brink of starvation. There were deer aplenty in the woods, but stark terror leaped into the man's eyes every time one of the Sleepers mentioned shooting one. The family survived on the few vegetables they could raise in their scrawny garden, fish from the small stream nearby, and berries far out in the woods. It was a hard existence. The Sleepers felt great pity for the family of Garn and ate as little as possible themselves.

“I feel sorry for those kids,” Wash said. “Robert and Pilar.”

Robert was fifteen, and Pilar was twelve. They were small and almost as shy as the deer that inhabited the forest.

Reb glanced over to where the boy and girl were working in the garden. “It would be so easy to go out and shoot a deer for them, but Garn won't hear of it.”

“He's as afraid of the king as a man can be. But so is everybody else.”

Reb sighed. They had met several of the neighboring farmers and discovered that fear of King Falmor lay over all the land like a cloud.

“Goodman doesn't seem to be too afraid. He and his men kill deer.”

Reb said, “But they don't have families to worry about. They're sort of like soldiers in battle, and I guess they're good enough in the woods that the king's men can't catch up with them.”

“I know they help the farmers as much as they can. They bring them parts of a deer from time to time,” Wash said. “Without that, Garn and his family would probably starve.”

 

Josh and Sarah sat just outside the small hut that Garn's family lived in. They were talking with Bentain and Goodman. It was certainly more pleasant outside than in. The house had a dirt floor and no windows. When she'd first seen the inside, Sarah said to Josh, “We kept our animals better than this back in Oldworld!”

BOOK: Savage Games of Lord Zarak
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