Eramane (22 page)

The night does not have much time left to conceal the fate of Lunlitch. Unsuspecting of their demise, the innocent townsfolk sleep peacefully, in what is to be their last night. Families are tucked away cozily, with fires warming their bodies. Thick smoke puffs lift from the smokestacks atop the homes. A little boy dreams of the fishing trip he and his father had gone on, while a young girl dreams of her new dress. The night has intentions of peace; however, Adikiah’s plans are not the same.

Creeping in like fog from the sea, the servants whip through each home like a plague. In truth, they are worse than a plague. Usually, not all suffer from fatal pestilence; nonetheless, everyone in Lunlitch will suffer. Nonchalantly the servants disperse, invading each dwelling as ordered. The evildoers do not discriminate in their murderous rampage. Adults and children lose their lives tragically and without regard. The carnage carries less remorse than swatting at a fly lingering around the fruit bowl. And with only slightly more intelligence than a fruit fly, his servants follow Adikiah’s demands yet lose sight of their purpose. As they begin their massacre, they become overwhelmed in the gratification of their undertakings. Yes, they bring about a bloodbath; however, they leave Lunlitch without waiting for me. The entire reason for them to be there, and they leave without taking care of Adikiah’s orders. Once they arrive back at the palace, they will be reminded of their forgetfulness in very painful ways.

Lunlitch is now silenced by death, and the aura of evil, along with dense fog, is all that remains in the town.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

A Doting Remembrance

AS NIGHT CONSUMES OUR TREK,
my head is consumed by horrible memories. I see Lebis’s body convulse under Adikiah’s attack. The feeble man Adikiah offered me on the landing, and the young girl from the village, take turns alternating between images of my mother’s eyes, wide with astonishment as she recognized me, the one holding a tight grip around her throat. I cannot let go of these devastating images. I find that I keep reminding myself that this is my burden and that I will carry it until I die. It is a mantra that helps me identify who I am, a reluctant realization.

You mean to destroy me
, Adikiah breaks in. I check to see if Limearsy notices my disposition. He seems to be in his own world, just proceeding forward.
I am not going anywhere, my love; you know where to find me. Bring Limearsy; bring a thousand armies, Eramane. After I kill each and every one of them, you will have no one left but me.
His confidence does not surprise me. In the depths of his being, Adikiah believes that I will lose my battle of hatred for him, that I will bring all the forces of all the lands to defeat him and, in the end, give in to his will. But I cannot worry about that right now, for I must focus on keeping him out of my thoughts. How am I to do that?

A while later we are in the flatlands, and soon we will arrive in the town of Lunlitch. This is the town my father used to call the Eye. It is in the middle of our lands. I remember my father speaking of it when he would set out on his travels. He would usually meet with a travel companion at the
Eye,
because it was the middle point for them to meet. Once, when I was a small child, he brought a music box home for my mother. Even now I hear its melody. The delicate sound, the tune of its music brings me solace, and I let the song repeat in my mind as much as it likes, a much-needed distraction. Limearsy breaks my thoughts and turns his horse back to meet at my side. As we ride on, Limearsy holds his tongue, as if there is no particular reason for him to drop lead and wait for me to ride up next to him. Our pace slows, and as we continue, I find myself looking at his face. He is handsome, and as I continue to stare at him, an odd feeling of familiarity comes over me. The longer I look, the more I cannot help but feel that I know him or have encountered him somewhere before. I stop my steed, and Limearsy halts his as well.

“What is wrong, Eramane?” he asks. I do not reply, as now we are both peering at the other intensely. “You question me. Why?” Limearsy continues. He knows of my doubt.
Of course he does; I have been glaring at him with suspicion since we met.

“I question everything, Limearsy. You should as well.” I command my horse to walk forward. We will soon enter Lunlitch.

I feel Adikiah’s presence. Why would he not be here? He knew that I was headed for this town. But there is also another reason I feel that he is near—I smell blood. It is the unmistakable smell of human blood, blood of the innocent. The closer our horses bring us to Lunlitch, the more I can sense the horrific fate of the villagers. Will Adikiah be in Lunlitch waiting to take me back and make me his once more?

“Do you smell that?” Limearsy asks. I inhale and notice that I no longer smell the blood of humans; I can smell their burning flesh. “There is smoke ahead,” Limearsy announces.

“Yes, I can smell it. The village is on fire,” I say, keeping my steed in a steady direction on the path to Lunlitch. Horses do not like the smell of smoke. As with most animals, it is against their instinct to approach a fire. But today my horse is not able to listen to his own instincts; he has to obey mine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Smolder

THE GROUND RUMBLES LIKE THUNDER
as horses dig their hooves into it. Mud is being slung everywhere as they trample the wet earth. The Riders are already filthy, and the journey has just begun. Samiah focuses on finding his sister, and his stern visage looks as though the coldest of winters froze him to the bone, and he can never be warmed again. Sadness stretches across his face.
My dear sister,
he mourns to himself,
if only I had not let you go with Lebis, our father would still be alive, and you would not be at the mercy of that beast.
Samiah’s guilt and sorrow gnaw at him as he and his Riders make their way into the town of Lunlitch.

The mist that had once dusted the ankles of the horses emerges as a thick blanket, obscuring their view into town. Samiah scans the town and notices an absence of its people. Wondering if something is amiss, he leans over to Nahmas. “It does not feel right, the town is vacant.”

“We have come here at a bad time. We cannot help these people,” Nahmas replies. The four men know that something evil has come into the village. They know that the villagers are dead. Being Riders for as long as they have, they each know what it means when you ride into a village and no one is there to greet you. The silence is what really calls to the men. It is that quiet that only death brings, and this village has come face-to-face with it. Nahmas, Aurick, and Terrin ride close to Samiah always. He is their new lord, and in the current circumstances, the brothers feel it necessary to surround him. The Ghosts feel responsible for not protecting Lord Danius; they are not going to make the same mistake twice.

Samiah and his men walk slowly through the town. Aurick and Terrin enter a few homes and return to Samiah with the news of what they saw. Entire families have been massacred. “They look as if a wild animal got at them,” Terrin explains.

“The children?” Samiah asks.

“They are all dead, my Lord. Even the animal companions were slain.”

“These people had no chance,”
Samiah says, imagining the terror the villagers must have felt.

“One creature did not do this,” Nahmas says, searching the town with his eyes as they continue on. Samiah’s anger escalates, and all he can do is clench his jaws to keep from screaming out his rage. Aurick notices parts of a human lying near the road and alerts the other Riders. As they move through the dense fog, they discover more and more pieces of human remains. The parts of these innocent people lie strewn all over.

“We cannot leave this town in this state,” Nahmas says to Samiah, expecting that his lord might want to carry on.

“No, we cannot,” Samiah replies. “They are strewn everywhere. Unwary travelers should not stumble upon this,” he finishes.

“What are your orders?” Nahmas asks. Samiah looks around at the remains of the villagers. A lump forms in his throat. He imagines his hometown of Eludwid; it does not differ from Lunlitch: quaint village, charming people. This could have easily been the fate of their home.

“Burn it. We will burn the whole damn thing down,” Samiah orders as he commands his horse to take him to a nearby hut. Samiah reaches the small home and dismounts. “Search for any pitch, sulfur, petroleum, or spirits you can find. Anything that will easily ignite,” Samiah shouts to his Riders as he enters the home.

He looks around the empty cottage and, at first, notices that the home looks only as though its owners left it for the day to venture out. This pleasant thought will not last. Samiah enters the rear of the home, where the family slept, and discovers that they too have become victims of the massacre. Samiah quickly locates a flagon of spirits and exits the home. He meets with the others, and they discuss how they will go about setting the entire town ablaze. They need to get the liquids spread out enough to consume the village.

“Aurick, take what you have and start soiling the main entrance to town. Terrin, take yours and pour it behind the homes near the tree line. Nahmas, douse these huts behind me; I will drench the bodies in the road. Since the village is small, housing about twenty families, the task of setting it ablaze should not be so difficult.”

As Samiah orders, the men douse their areas. Samiah gives the town another look, as if to say good-bye, then strikes his sword against a stone to ignite the flammable trail he made.

Samiah and his men gather toward the end of the burning town and watch as flames engulf the village, home by home. The horses stand obediently as the brothers begin mumbling prayers for the deceased villagers. Samiah sits quietly, as if he is listening to the wind. Sometimes the wind will tell you things if you listen closely enough. Other times maybe the wind just blows, but now the wind is speaking, and it carries on it the arrival of his dear sister. It tells him that if he listens carefully, he will hear her. Therefore, Samiah listens, carefully and observantly, to the wind. He breathes the cool air through his flaring nostrils and fills his lungs with it. And, as promised, the wind delivers the sound of his sister; she is calling to him:
Samiah
. He looks ahead toward the end of town, through the haze of smoke, and sees someone sitting atop a horse, staring back at him. Samiah squints, trying to focus on the person’s image. He commands his horse to walk forward a few paces; just enough to give his eyes the proximity they need to clarify the image. “Eramane!” he shouts.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Meeting Again

SAMIAH LOOKS AT ME, QUESTIONING
if it is really me or not. I cannot tell what he thinks; it looks as though he may be convincing himself that I am really here. But I
am
here, and I only want to embrace him and beg him to forgive me.

After we gaze at each other for a moment, I leave my horse, and Limearsy, and walk toward him. As I approach, I see that he believes his eyes. He jumps from his steed, landing face-to-face with me. He holds me in his sight for only a second before clutching me to his chest. I clutch back, relieved that he is alive, relieved that he does not hate me. Samiah begins to sob, an emotion shared by both of us. Tears rush from me in a release that I have been longing for, for what seems like an eternity. Finally, our tears slow, and I feel him searching my back, as if looking for something. I lift my head from his shoulder and peer into his teary red eyes. “They are gone,” I say. He retracts his hands and looks at my face instead.

The thick smoke from the blazing village dances around us like the veil on a boisterous bride. Samiah does not take his eyes from me as I speak my words of remorse: “I cannot make right the wrong that I have done. I cannot make you forgive me, and I do not think you should.”

“I do not blame you, Eramane,” he says almost breathlessly. Samiah slumps a little. Silence gloats at our circumstance. My voice is choking back, and I cannot speak another word until he says something else—anything.

“I wish to kill the one who took you from us,” he says, and I am relieved. I am ever so grateful to see him, to know that Adikiah did not kill him.

“I am sorry, Samiah; I’m so sorry, brother.” He grabs me and pulls me in again, hugging me tight.

“I am sorry for not protecting you, my dear sister,” he says in emotion-choked tones. “I would give my life for you to have yours again, Eramane,” he sobs. “I would give it a thousand times for you,” he says sincerely.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Limearsy’s Revelation

THE MEMORY OF THAT DEVASTATED
village travels with us on the wind. We ride fast, all of us, but the carnage cradles us along the way. Samiah and the Ghosts look as though a lifetime of blissful moments could not eradicate the images of Lunlitch forever burned in their minds, poor souls. I know I do not have much time before Adikiah imposes his presence on my thoughts again. I do not know if I can keep him out, but so far, I have kept him at bay.