Dark Age (19 page)

Chapter 24

“
A
lmost done,” said
Peter as he finished cutting my hair.

“It’s useful to have a barber for a friend,” I remarked, looking at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was wavy and almost down to my shoulders, while my beard was cleanly trimmed with only a light shade remaining all around.

“That’s it,” he exclaimed triumphantly, energized by practicing his profession. “Now you no longer look like a drunken homeless man. Go and get ready, the others are eager to see you. You deserve a nice dinner and drink after that pit you have been rotting in.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” he said pulling something from his pocket. With a wink, he tossed my eagle necklace into my open palm, “I found it around the neck of one of the guards whose hair I cut. I knew it belonged to you, so I snatched it.”

In times of peril, having good friends was invaluable. Peter and I had been close friends already in the city, but after getting me out of that prison and even looking after my memory of Katrina, he had proven to be far more than just a friend. He was a brother to me.

“He has returned!” exclaimed Stephan upon seeing me enter the common-hall. They all huddled around me, greeting and embracing me one after the other. Some of them had changed over the past year but most looked nearly identical as the day I was taken.

It seemed as if the whole Guard had known about my incarceration. Word must have spread quickly. Except for the men I deemed friends most other Guardsmen looked at me with suspicion and distrust. I could sense the people at the other tables spreading rumors about me. It was then when I recognized the totality of facts surrounding me. Not only had I supposedly attempted to kill Jacob by poison, but many saw me nearly beat a handful of fellow guards to death in order to protect Janari.

“It’s been almost five years now,” announced Peter. “I want to give this toast to us all. The five of us have been strong throughout and not allowed any of the others to fall behind. Many of the men we trained with have passed away, but thanks to each and every one of you, we are still right here. To you James, who always holds us back from doing too many stupid things. To you Nigel, who makes sure we still do enough stupid things to enjoy the Guard. To you Stephan, who always steps up and has my back when things go wrong. To you Adam, who always tries to find ways to die by doing what most are not man enough to do. To us, and to immortality.”

“To immortality,” I repeated, thinking of the doom that wish had brought upon mankind a century ago. Our mortality gave this moment value. As we bumped our mugs together in the center of our circle, I looked at each and every one of my friends. I cherished the moment because I knew that our luck would not last forever. I never would have thought that the day I went out to bring peace could have been the last time I saw Terric or Janari. Life had its unsuspecting turns. For years it does not move, almost like a still painting, and at once the whole consistency changes wildly, like a drop of blood falling into a glass of water spreading by the seconds until it discolors the entire substance.

A guard with a stern look rang a tiny bell at the entrance of the common-hall. Immediately the whole company finished their drinks and rose to leave. “Let’s go, out here!” yelled the man at the door.

I shot Peter an inquisitive look, “Yorick set up new curfews. Nobody is allowed to walk outside the cottages after ten o’clock,” he whispered.

Like a herd of sheep we were led outside the common-hall and given a glance at the row of torture instruments. Even now a man was being pulled by his limbs on the rack, filling the air with violent cries of pain. There had never been enough criminal behavior to torture at least one guard a night. It seemed rather haphazard how Yorick chose his criminals just to set examples every day. I had to make sure I did not become one of them.

Winter had come and so had the snow. With its icy claws the cold cut into our skins and stole the warmth from our core. When we could not escape the freezing pain for hours it began to meddle with our psych.

I marched down the snowy trail towards our camp with the others at my side. The sounds of our movements were muted by the thick layer of snow that crackled lightly when our soles pressed down on it. After a short time my boots were soaked by the snow and my feet began to freeze.

“Let’s get out of here quickly,” said Peter leading our group of six. “We cannot stay outside for too long but we have to finish our job. We need to cover at least a third of our zone. Shake the snow off the trees to make sure it does not weigh too heavily on them. But do everything quietly. You don’t want to wake any of the animals in their hibernation.”

“After all, we wanna eat them and their children the coming years,” remarked Nigel with a grin.

“Also if you see a dead tree, cut it down. When they freeze below a certain point, they burst and potentially crush some of the younger trees.”

For a few hours we delved deeper and deeper into the woods, until we grew tired. Taking a rest however was never an option. Jacob, who by now had finished his service, once told us about a Guardsman who stayed behind his group, saying he would only rest for a moment. He was convinced he would get up any moment until he couldn’t. His muscles had grown too tired and weak because of the cold and so he froze to death leaning against a tree. Winter indeed was a devil in disguise. In its white crystalline beauty and silent tranquility it hid from the eye the destruction it caused. Deer were starved to the rips or never awoke from their sleep, trees burst in their core as the cold soaked up all the liquid within them, and men got lost in the white maze after the snow covered their tracks.

“Alright, we’ll do one more hour,” Peter said unrolling a map of the woods. “We covered the southeastern and eastern quadrant, let’s finish northeast and we can go home.”

We strolled out in between the trees and drove up north. The sun had passed its highest point and had halfway set at the horizon. Up ahead bright yellow lines on a row of tree trunks marked the end of our zone.

“Let’s make it a race! We can check the trees on the way back,” said Nigel. “Whoever gets there first gets a free drink from the others.”

Before we could take the bet he bolted towards the markers. Immediately we chased after him. Peter was right next to me trying to outrun me. He bumped me in the side and laughed wholeheartedly when I fell behind for a few seconds. Nigel had almost reached the markers closely followed by John. Igor and Marc slowly trotted behind us, disinterested in our little challenge.

Peter and I slowed knowing that we had no chance of catching up to Nigel or John. With inches of separation Nigel touched the tree and spun around with a triumphant smile. John was bent over with his hands on his knees gasping for air.

Something in his expression changed. Alarm and terror spread across his face while Nigel still celebrated his victory and boasted about his speed.

John jumped up and tried to push Nigel aside. By the time his hand had reached him, an arrow flew through the air and pierced Nigel into the chest. My mind flashed back to the chief as I saw Nigel standing in the snow with all expression sucked from his face.

The moment slowed as Peter and I ran towards our friend. Nigel’s eyes glazed in pain. His skin paled. His body trembled out of fear; the fear of death. John took the bow from his shoulder. He stepped back. With shaking hands Nigel touched the spot where the arrow had hit him. The chainmail was penetrated with the tip inches deep in his flesh. Frightened he lifted his hand and collapsed. It was covered in blood.

Igor and Marc saw the red pool on the white snow and ran off. Trying to fetch an arrow John reached for the quiver. His hands trembled, breaking an arrow by accident.

Peter and I were almost there. He looked at me with a mortified glance. I knew he saw the fear in my eyes. The shot seemed fatal but I could still hear Nigel cough.

I turned to see the archer.

It was Janari aiming for my head.

Chapter 25

M
y feet froze
in the middle of my sprint. The adrenaline that had pumped through my veins moments ago vanished into nothingness and left my body motionless. The moment our eyes met, her arrow left the string. It was in that moment that she recognized me, and it was that moment, that the dark gloom in her eyes disappeared.

Numbed by the unexpected encounter I did not even notice the dripping wound in my left shoulder until the warm blood touched my hands. Janari let her bow sink as the two of us gazed into each other’s familiar yet estranged faces. With clenched teeth I broke the arrow off and started running towards her. She dropped her bow and rushed down the forest floor. Her face was pained. It was not until now that she saw the monster she had let herself turn into because of the pain she had suffered from the Guard.

My feet carried me like the wind toward her. Her eyes were fixed on me.

“I’ll get that witch for you, Adam,” John yelled.

Mere feet from Janari, I turned my head toward him. His left arm was extended clasping his bow. His right had already released death.

I screamed for it to stop. Unknowing of what was coming her way Janari jumped towards me.

The moment I caught her all noise ceased, leaving nothing but the muffled voices of the others. Our warm bodies were like one entity in a sea of cold.

A snowflake fell on her forehead. Gently I brushed it away.

“I…, am sorry Adam,” she whispered, her angelic voice consumed by pain. Her hands pressed on her stomach, where the arrow had entered her flesh. “I always wanted to be different and bring change,” she said slowly with tears running down her cheeks, “but we are all the same.”

“Shut up,” I said with a lump forming in my throat. “Don’t go. Fight it Janari. We can run off to Africa.”

“We will meet again, Adam. I just hope it will be in a world brighter than this one.”

“Please,” I begged her to live.

With a smile she closed her eyes, and left me behind. I bowed down and gave her paling lips a kiss. She had killed Nigel, but she was no murderer. In the end she was the victim. A victim of timeless hatred.

“I shall see you again,” I whispered, “when this never-ending night passes and the day breaks.” I lowered her still body into the soft snow. “Go gently my love,” I said, and let her go.

A violent scream emerged from behind me. Her brothers had come to revenge their sister. John lay dead in the snow, his eyes wide open, filled with the terror of surprise. They cut us off from the direct route back to the settlement, driving us deeper into the woods. Perhaps more of them awaited us there. Peter pulled me by the arm onto my feet. I grabbed his shoulder and ordered him, “Go! Warn the others, I will hold them off while you make a run for it!”

“I am not leaving you here!” he yelled back at me with the same commanding tone.

I wanted to slap him and give him a beating so he would go. The fool had risked his life too many times for me. But in his eyes I saw that no word or act could make him leave. The twins were almost in front of us, giving us just enough time to draw our swords and stand shoulder to shoulder.

I did not want to fight them. After all they were Janari’s brothers. I pleaded them to hear me out. But as much as I tried to appease them in their language, they would not listen. It was them or us. And I knew it had to be us.

The ground underneath our feet shuddered to every step they took. Each stomp sent a shiver down my spine, as the two monstrosities approached us. Once their grotesque heads loomed above ours, I found their bodies more disturbing than I had observed from far. Despite all I had learned about them, it seemed difficult to accept them as humans, yet so easy to mark them as monsters. Their statures were hunched yet enormous; their movements were jerky yet powerful; their expressions were empty yet cold. If I wanted to beat them, I could not think of them as humans.

An axe, as big as our heads, greeted us, slashing down with immense speed.

The imminent threat wakened me from the pain of my wounded shoulder. My teeth clenched, my hands formed fists, my eyes focused in on the enemy. When both prepared to strike out at us, I jumped through the void in between them. Peter distracted the two leaving their backs vulnerable to my blade.

I lunged at the one with the missing eye. My sword cut across his back, evoking a painful cry. I expected the birds to flee at this noise but all the wildlife had long ago deserted us.

My benefit of surprise did not last long. Right after I attacked the cripple, it spun around, viciously hitting with its club into empty air. It had neither the instinct of an animal nor the intelligence of a regular human. With inches separating me from death, it missed my head just a second before Peter rammed his sword through the monster’s back.

It cried out into the forest sky so loud that I almost went deaf. The scream alone was a powerful weapon. The distraction made it harder to dodge their blows. To our despair the one eyed cripple kept fighting.

All my muscles tensed and I could feel the sweat soak my clothes and armor from underneath. But compared to those creatures I still smelled like heaven.

Peter and I stood back to back, as the monsters walked in a circle around us. The stab began to take its toll on the cripple. More and more blood left its body. When it was ready to lunge and strike me, my arm shot out and slit its throat. Like dead weight, the large body collapsed in my direction. I jumped aside, but it was too late for Peter. With his back towards me it had caught him unaware and knocked him to the ground. The remaining brother of Janari, the one with the deformed hand, lifted up his axe to give Peter the final blow.

My bleeding body raised itself from the ground. With all the strength I could muster I slashed my sword against the descending axe, cutting off the blades from the shaft. In its anger the monster growled at me and dropped the stick. With an immense blow using the crippled hand, it struck me so powerfully that I lost hold of my sword.

The game had changed. The sharpness of our weapons and our skill in wielding them no longer mattered. It was down to raw power.

Walking in circles around the cripple, my fists danced in front of my face. Its punches went straight for my head. Sweat dripped down my entire body, mixing with the blood that oozed out of various bruises and cuts. In disgust I spit the blood that filled my mouth at the monster. A few more punches and it would have cracked open my skull. With all I had left in me, I charged at it and grabbed it by its wrists, while ramming my knee repeatedly into its stomach. Ringing for air, it collapsed to its knees. With a forceful kick I hit its head to the ground. A deep exhausted sigh resounded and the monster closed its eyes.

My thoughts raced back to Peter. I immediately returned to his weak body that had been buried under the other creature. Had he not exhausted himself so much in the fight, he could have freed himself, but the body was just too heavy. With shared strength we rolled the cadaver off of him.

His eyes had little luster, but so had mine. We barely escaped our death, yet all that we cared about was living; standing on our own feet and still having an ounce of blood in our bodies. What I cherished more than anything in that moment was our chance to still live out our dreams and one day return to the city. It was a privilege indeed, I thought, scanning the ground that was filled with blood, corpses, and lost souls. Nigel and his happiness had left our world forever. He was never going to return to marry the girl that bore the child he never met. John as much as I hated him now, died due to a mere misunderstanding. And Janari… will never see Africa, never see peace, and never see me again.

Peter and I fell into each other’s arms, thankful for another and thankful for life. He had saved my life, and I had saved his. Our friendship had made us brothers.

His grip tightened and his entire body tensed. Ruthlessly he pushed me to the ground and picked his sword up from the floor.

I turned my head in confusion as I hit the floor. The one handed monster was back on its feet. With a full thrust it rammed my lost sword into Peter’s front. That same moment Peter extended his arm, letting the Monster run into his blade. The scene froze as both parties stood motionlessly there, staring into nothingness.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. I got to my feet and grabbed Peter’s sword to finish the dying Monster off, just before I caught my collapsing friend.

His breaths were slow and heavy. The sword dove into the chainmail so forcefully that the tip still severed his skin and flesh close to his heart.

“We did it, Adam,” Peter said in a voice as faint as a whisper.

The wound did not appear to be fatal, letting tears of joy run down my face.

Then his shirt caught my eyes. In less than twenty seconds it had turned from a solid grey to a dark red. The blood was leaving Peter and so were his spirits.

“Go ahead, you need to get your shoulder fixed, I’ll be right behind you,” Peter told me as if he were waiting to enjoy the sunset. He could mislead me with words, but his tone was unmistakable.

“Quit the talk and let me slow the bleeding,” I said while taking off his armor. His upper body was scarred, beaten, and weak, unlike the warrior I always knew him as. The wound had cut deep and was a few inches long. It severed a major vein, but just a little closer to the heart and it would have immediately killed him.

I had minutes at best. With a handful of pearl white snow, I cleaned his wound, and pressed it closed with pieces of John’s shirt. Once I had covered up the injury, I tied Peter’s shirt around his chest to keep the other cloth in place. It was far from ideal, but all I could do in the circumstance.

“Can you walk?” I asked.

“I’ll try,” he responded weakly with flickering eyes and put his arm around my neck for support.

We made our way back through the forest, but our steps progressively slowed. His power faded and my shoulder began to burn. To make things worse, the walking raised his heart rate and made the bleeding stronger. Either we walked slowly, risking him bleeding out, or we walked faster, causing the bleeding to speed up as well.

At one point even those two options left us. Before I could grab him tighter, his arm slipped from my shoulder and he fell onto his knees. His eyes looked down, away from mine.

“Adam, promise me one thing,” he began.

With sharpened ears I waited, resentful for what was about to come.

“When you return to the city, tell all the pretty girls how heroically I died, so that when they go to heaven, they come searching for me,” he chuckled painfully in a bittersweet tone. He slowly lifted his face, and I saw tears rolling down his cheeks, “I’m scared… brother.”

I had a million things to say to him. Goodbyes, wise words, apologies. All that I brought forth was, “It’s not your time yet.”

I knelt down next to him, grabbed his legs and head under my arms, and pushed myself to my feet. The pain in my shoulder exploded, causing me to fall back down to my knees. I wanted to pull the rest of the bolt out, but while it was my curse it was the one thing that kept me from bleeding out.

All the pain shot an urge to vomit through my body, but I had to keep composure. I could not tell which pain was the worst. While the bolt burned in my shoulder, the fear of Peter’s death, after losing Janari and Nigel, torched my soul.

With powers unbeknown to me I picked him up and set him on my healthy shoulder. Without delay I ran as fast as I could. Body and mind were strained to the fullest, as my calves tensed at every step and my brain fought the idea of losing Peter.

His body turned limp as no muscles seemed to hold it together. With vigor I pushed through the thicket and entered the plain. The outer wall was in sight, promisingly outlined by the colorful fading sunset.

“Help!” I cried. With tears in my eyes I screamed it over and over. Every second I did not see a guard rushing my way, feelings of loneliness and helplessness consumed me.

Finally, in the distance, guards exited the outer gate in quickening steps.

As they closed in, my power faded. I broke down into my knees and Peter rolled off my back. Gasping for air I lay in the snow facing him. His eyelids had halfway covered his emerald green eyes. Dizziness multiplied the pain all over my body. My sight became blurry and the running feet of the Guards approached me like thunder. With my last word I cried out his name.