The Silver Arrow (22 page)

“As tempting as that sounds,
I’ve asked that we hold off for now and give you a chance, with the
right incentive. Young men nowadays need something to help them
stay focused, right?”

The man stopped pacing and
looked at Iseac. “I wonder what yours might be.”

He raised his hand in the air,
beckoning at someone Iseac could not see. A guard came out from the
corner of the room with someone held tightly in his right arm.
Iseac hoped it wasn’t whom he suspected it was. As the person came
to view, anger flared inside him. It took a considerable amount of
effort not to lash out at the guard and everyone in the room.

It took a second, but he
recognized the person. Elena. Her hair was matted in dirt. There
were bruises on her arms and legs, which was also covered in dirt.
Her upper arm was like a twig wrapped around the guard’s massive
hand. She lifted her head to look at him and dropped it back down
as the men in the room watched him for some reaction.

“It appears,” the man in the
red robe said, “the Anamerian does not know this woman. Maybe I was
mistaken. I guess she is as useless to him as she is to me.”

He reached toward her,
straightening his arm as if trying to reach out and slowly
clenching his fingers. Elena grabbed her neck and began to struggle
violently, trying to pull apart an invisible noose around her neck.
Her face slowly turned red.

“Stop,” Iseac croaked, as if
the words were ripped out of his mouth. The man in red turned to
look at him.

“Oh, so she does mean something
to you,” he said dispassionately.

“Don’t hurt her,” Iseac said,
conceding to his test.

“Good. I’m glad we have an
understanding.” He relaxed his fingers and Elena dropped to the
ground, coughing. “Take her away,” he said, waving his finger.
Taking their cue, two of the women ran up to him.

“Show him to his quarters,” the
man said as he started making his way back up to join his
companions.

It had never crossed his mind,
but now, seeing Elena, Iseac feared the worst for his family and
townspeople.

“Follow me,” the servant said,
breaking his thoughts.

He glanced at the man in the
red robe before following the young woman through a different
doorway. He stayed with the young woman as she scurried along,
fading in and out of the firelight on their way, until they arrived
at a section of the tunnel with a red stone that provided the only
light in the area. The soft glow revealed a door made of stone.

It was several inches thick and
two guards stood waiting, their massive eyes bright in the dim
light.

“Here,” the servant said,
standing next to the door that was open.

Iseac said nothing as he walked
past her into the room. Once inside, the massive door was pushed in
until it closed. The clacking sound of keys followed as the door
was locked behind him.

His cell was whitewashed, so
even though there was no light, he could still see a little. Oddly
enough, Iseac was relieved to find the place not as damp. His cell
was empty except for a tin bucket, bowl, and cup. The cup reminded
Iseac that his throat was dry. He reached for it and discovered it
empty. Disappointed, he sat down, crossing his legs.

After all that had just
happened, he was beginning to reconsider his original plan, which
was to wait for Samuel and the Ackalans while he gathered
information on their enemies’ plans; but now that Elena was
here−and maybe his family−he needed to do something.

He was beginning to formulate a
new plan when a tray came sliding toward him. It stopped halfway in
his direction, and he rushed over to pick it up. He saw scraps of
meat in some sort of broth that had spilled some along the way.

He dug in, eating with the
fierce intensity of a wild animal.

Within minutes it was all gone,
but his stomach growled for more. When the tray was clean, he
placed it back down and stared at his right hand, opening and
closing his fingers. He was pleased to see that his arm was getting
better every day.

His shoulder was still sore and
stiff, but there was no permanent damage. He took a look at his
shoulder, now that he could see better than before; the area where
the arrow struck was still covered in dry blood, now mixed with
dirt. He unbuttoned his shirt to examine the area and was pleased
to see that it was beginning to heal.

After a considerable amount of
time contemplating the next plan of action, Iseac made his
decision; he placed his right hand on the floor and concentrated.
Soon he gained sight outside his cell.

The numbers of tunnels from his
chamber were so numerous that he could not make sense of the maze.
There were twice as many people on this side than those in the cell
where he was initially held. It made things difficult, but he would
search every day until he found her, using the necklace that he saw
she was still wearing.

While yosterio allowed him to
brush through and see images of a vast number of people, focusing
on a single object took more effort. After a short time, Iseac
withdrew from exhaustion.

He could sense the guard’s
presence the next day before he heard the clacking sound of a key
unlocking his door.

“They are waiting,” the guard
said, tossing him the familiar chain to fasten around his neck.
“Now it begins,” Iseac thought as he walked over to the chain.

Samuel kept up with Gabram as
they made their way through the woods that led them in a
semi-circle to the back of Gabram’s house, from what he could see.
They were now on a footpath that gently sloped up as they walked
side by side.

“Something is coming…worse than
the great battle at Ambacer…” Gabram said, turning his head
sideways to look at Samuel, “and you are a witness of this brewing
storm.”

The battle of Ambacer, Samuel
thought. He remembered listening to the tale told long ago of that
battle at the valley of Ambacer, where Orums (giant half men) and
other beasts never before seen fought against men.

The story was of a man named
Rorrah, a former mercenary who rose in his king’s service and, over
time, began handling matters the king wanted dealt with privately,
outside his Council. Those who served with Rorrah respected him and
trusted him with their lives.

Over time, Rorrah won the heart
of the king’s only daughter, Sarah, and so became the first king
not of royal blood. For fifteen years, King Rorrah plotted to
expand his role. Rorrah was said to be an attractive man, with both
physical strength and the cunning tongue of a great speaker.
Building a correlation with outlanders, including the Orums and
creatures never before seen by men, he invaded the lands north,
destroying those that did not swear fealty to him, including the
king.

As rumors of his invasion north
reached the kings from the other Kingdoms, they sent spies to
corroborate the information and learned that it was true. They sent
messages to meet with Rorrah, which he declined.

Rorrah’s intention for the
kings was clear; they needed to be prepared to defend their
Kingdoms, so they began making preparations for war, knowing they
could be next.

Rorrah’s army continued to grow
as he swept the northern lands. It was said that his men were so
numerous there were ten for every person in Bayshia during the
harvest festival.

Rorrah’s men moved west and
were met by King Leeram. For two days they fought unceasing, and by
the third day, Leeram knew they would all die there. So as the sun
rose the following morning and the commanders prepared for their
final stands, they heard the royal horns of the southern Kingdom.
There was silence, at first as the men of Leeram stared in the
direction of the sound. Then they heard it. The low thundering
stomp of horses as they appeared out of the horizon, dressed in the
royal colors of red and gold, with the banner of the rising sun
flapping in the air. The men of Leeram raised their voices in a
thunderous hail as King Henric rode in with the sun rising behind
him.

The rousing cheer was reported
to have been heard by Rorrah’s men, who were surprised to hear that
men from the south had come to fight alongside the army of Leeram,
which had never been done before. The surprise, however, did not
deter the men of Rorrah, who were on the attack; by the end of the
third day, they had both lost almost equal amounts of men.

Something did changed on the
third day, as the men of Rorrah were beginning to lose heart. They
hadn’t planned for such a long siege.

Sensing victory, both kings
decided to take the offensive on the fourth day. But Rorrah’s men
held their ground, and that night, men from the east rode in to aid
King Leeram of the west. With the reinforcements, they scattered
and drove back Rorrah’s troops.

It took two years after that
victory for most of the land north to be reclaimed. Rorrah was
killed in the battlefield and the outlanders were pushed back to
what is now known as the “Abyss of Rorrah.” It was the bloodiest
war ever recorded in history, caused by a single man who tried to
bring the four Kingdoms under one rule.

“One of the things very few
people know about the battle at Ambacer,” Gabram said “is why the
rulers of the south and east came to the aid of the king in the
west. In those days, it was not known for a king to leave his
Kingdom to aid another in a war that wasn’t his own.

“The story does not tell of the
true hero behind the victory: an Anamerian called Ryzin. He told
the kings where the battle was and why their Kingdoms needed to be
involved, breaking the old tradition of kings defending just their
own land without assistance, because of the age-old saying that a
king is not fit to rule if he cannot protect his own Kingdom.

“Iseac is the Anamerian,”
Gabram said, trying to help Samuel understand the magnitude of what
he was going to tell him next, “and like those before him, his
purpose was to find you.

“Two others are like you, and
there is someone who knows that the three of you will be a danger
to him and his plans, if each of you comes to know your true
self.”

Samuel remembered Mosley saying
something about a person knowing his true self. Now it makes sense.
“No wonder I felt something different about him…a connection,
even.”

“But why me?” Samuel asked.
“I’m the son of a farmer and no threat to anyone.”

“We are all more than we
appear. We only allow the things around us to define what we
become.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Have you had something happen
to you, or done something you could not explain?” Gabram asked.

“Yes,” Samuel replied.

“Those things you can’t explain
are instances when our mind brushes against the fabric of our true
self.”

Samuel remembered then what
happened to him in Chartum-Valley. He had seen Iseac’s face in his
mind before he met him, and Gabram’s transformation in the middle
of the street.

“I’m sure you’ve already
figured it out, but the people who are holding your family cannot
be defeated by mere strength of arms. You are important; they
destroyed your town just to find you, and Iseac sent you to me to
find out what you are. I hope you are ready for what I’m going to
show you.”

“How did Gabram know my town
was destroyed and because of me?” he thought. It couldn’t be
true.

“You are more of a threat to
this being than you think, and he will stop at nothing until you
and the others are dead,” Gabram said. “For now, think of our time
as a respite from what lies ahead and focus your thoughts on what
you will be learning.”

They walked through the trees
along a steady slope that opened up into a patchy meadow. The
landscape slowly changed along the way until only rocks could be
seen, as they were close to the base of a mountain.

Samuel followed Gabram along a
path that only he could see as they made the steady climb up. They
stopped at an open area on the mountainside; it had taken them all
of that morning.

On their way to the top, it was
becoming harder to breathe. Samuel had to take deeper breaths that
even then did not seem to be enough.

“The air is thinner because of
how high we’ve come,” Gabram said, noticing the color on Samuel’s
face. “It takes getting used to, but your body will adjust soon
enough.”

Standing in an alcove high on
the mountain, Samuel looked over the trees at the vast landscape.
On the south side was the magnificent city of Bremah, with its
great wall and reddish buildings that looked like an ant mound in
the distance.

“This place frees the mind from
things that hold it down there,” Gabram said, referring to what
Samuel was looking at. “Come…sit!” When Samuel was seated, he
tossed him a water skin. Gabram appeared unruffled from their hike,
from what Samuel could see as he drank.

“I know you may feel, so far,
that circumstances have directed your path, leaving you with no
choice,” Gabram said. “But right now I want you to know that you do
have a choice. You can take this opportunity to rebuild a new life
for yourself here in Bremah, or I can help prepare you for what is
known as the ‘unlocking.’ It will change your life permanently and
give you power in return. You will be anew, unbound by the memories
of your old life.

“Think on it and let me know
what you choose,” he said before going to sit at the ledge, staring
into the distance. Samuel sat there deep in thought, remembering
the aroma from his mother’s kitchen, his father walking in from the
fields with his older brother, Faray. He’d always looked up to
Faray and still remembered the day he was given his first bow. He
remembered how he and Elye got into trouble tying a burning branch
to Miss Reonna’s hog, their running in the woods by the lake, and
many other memories he cherished. “What wouldn’t I be willing to
sacrifice for my family,” he thought, knowing that they could
already be dead.