Into Eden: Pangaea - Book 1 (9 page)

“What are you doing here, Abijah?” Jesse asked.

“Your mother has had someone stand guard all night ever since the an-nef attack. It’s my night for guard-duty.” Then, looking at the spear and bow in the back of the buckboard and the sword that Jesse was wearing he asked, “What are
you
doing here?”

“Going to Albion to visit some friends.”

“You must not be on good terms with them.”

“Oh yes...the weapons…you see…”

“We’re going to kill Anubis,” Enoch blurted out.

“Good! Then take me with you!”

“I’m afraid that will not be possible,” Enoch replied. “You are needed here. Besides, with the loss of your father your mother would be overcome with grief if she leaned that you had gone off chasing an-nef. If you really want to help I suggest that you delay letting anyone know of our departure for as long as possible. Tell them that you were sworn to secrecy by the Master of the house of Nashon. Isn’t that correct, Jesse?”

“Yes,” Jesse replied, hesitantly. “I’m sorry Abijah. But Enoch’s right. I’ll have to order you to stay here and I order you to keep our whereabouts secret. Do you swear it?”

Abijah hesitated a long time, as if trying to think of some other way to talk them into taking him with them. At last he replied, “By the gods, I swear it.”

“Good,” Enoch said, “Now let’s get the gate open before everyone gets up…or this whole thing will be over before it starts.”

Abijah opened the gate and Jesse urged the horse forward. They hadn’t ridden far when Jesse snapped at Enoch, “Why’d you tell him what I was up to? How do you know that he still won’t say something?”

“Because Abijah’s an honorable man. Gets it from his father. I find it troubling, young Master of the house of Nashon how easy it is getting for you to lie. I’m not sure that your father would have approved.”

“As you have already pointed out, Enoch, I’m embarking on murder. What’s a lie or two between friends to help me accomplish it?
You
said that you wouldn’t interfere! We hadn’t even left the compound before you had broken your word! Now if you can’t do as we agreed then I’ll be forced to put you out and let you go chase rabbits!”

“That’s cold.”

Jesse was still angry, but he said no more as he steered the buckboard down the road and over the bridge and into the Territories. The road that they were on was the Southern Highway, the same road that Hezron had taken a couple of weeks before in his pursuit of the jackal-heads. Despite its grand, officious-sounding name, the Southern Highway was little more than a bumpy dirt path that followed the Elmer River southward. This far north the Elmer itself was barely a brook that meandered out of the Foothills, providing water for stock and some fish but was not much more use to the locals. Further south it would widen, and by the time that they reached Whitehurst—some one-hundred miles to the south—was navigable.

As the horse clopped along, neither Jesse nor Enoch spoke. Both were lost in their own thoughts. As the sun rose Jesse could see a landscape dotted with small farms covering rolling hills. Each farm was divided by stone walls, and the cattle, pigs, and occasional herd of goats gave this part of the Territories a feel much like the Foothills. To Jesse it felt like home. Maybe being exiled to one of these thatched-roofed little farms wouldn’t be such a bad thing—as long as he didn’t have to spend the next eight-hundred years with Meroni complaining about the smell of the dreadful beasts.

After a few miles they came upon a large granite rock formation that resembled a horse’s head.

“This is where it happened,” Enoch broke the silence.

“What happened?”

“The ambush. Where your brother died and Hezron was forced to turn back.”

Jesse reined the horse to a halt with a, “Whoa!” He got out and walked around the field beneath the formation. It had been only two weeks and yet there was no evidence that a battle had been fought here. Nothing to show that men had died and others had bled at the hands of murderous an-nef. But as he was returning to the buckboard his foot struck something in the high grass. Bending over he discovered an arrow, almost completely submerged in the dirt. He grasped the fletching and pulled it out. It was shorter than those that he was familiar with—probably fired from the same mechanical bow that had wounded him and killed Josiah. Upon examination he discovered that its manufacture was also more refined than the arrows that he had grown up with. The tip of the arrow had been cast of iron, and was attached to the shaft by means of threaded grooves—not tied on like those made by the fletcher in Albion. The an-nef may be half animal, but it was obvious that their technology was superior to that of men and giants. That realization gave Jesse much cause for concern. “By the gods,” he said to himself, “and as sure as fog kills, I will kill Anubis for this.”

Jesse tossed the arrow in the back of the buckboard and headed back down the road. In a few minutes they had ridden past Horse-head Rock, and Jesse noticed that Enoch was staring out at an estate on the hill off to the right. The estate was of the old style, complete with a courtyard and slate roof. “You know whose estate that is?” he asked.

“My son’s.”

“Your son lives there?”

“Yes. It was my estate before my death. But you know the law, ‘No spirit residing in a host shall own property or be permitted to hold any office of government. That is the Law of Atlantis.’” Enoch quoted the law as if reciting a mantra. “Strange, really, the emperor that issued that decree now dwells in a spirit-host and is permitted to live in the palace that he built only as long as he stays in good graces with his idiot son. I wonder what he thinks of that law now?”

“Enoch, why didn’t you stay on your estate after your death? Why did you come to live with dad?”

“They wouldn’t have me.”

Jesse said no more. He didn’t know how to respond to that bit of painful honesty.

“Jesse, they wouldn’t have me because I was bad father and husband.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Believe it. It’s true. All of my life was consumed with what I could do to satisfy my desires. Then when I died I reaped the penalty of my selfishness. My wives told Nashon to take the dog and leave. Take the dog and leave! That’s what they thought of me! Death can be a real eye-opener, Jesse. Learn your lessons in life. There are no second chances. I was told by one of your brothers that a few days after my death they took my portraits off the wall and burned them. They say that no one ever regrets on his deathbed that he spent too much time with his children and it’s true. Oh the things that I would do differently if I could do them over! But we can’t, now, can we?”

Jesse didn’t try to reply. He felt sorry for his uncle and friend. He could not imagine a time when Enoch had not been kind. The thought that there was past with another Enoch was difficult for him to grasp.

As they again rode in silence Enoch suddenly remarked, “I smell…cat.”

Jesse pulled back on the reins and shouted, “Whoa!” The wagon came to a sudden halt and Jesse fumbled behind the seat for the spear.

“Do you mean, ‘cat, cat, or big cat’?”

“Cat, cat…I think.”

“But you’re not sure?”

Enoch stuck his nose in the air and sniffed. “Yes, cat cat. I don’t believe that the scent is strong enough for a lion, but I’ve never actually smelled one before.” As he spoke a tabby leaped from the tall grass and onto the stone wall that they were passing. It stretched nonchalantly, ignoring the passengers of the passing wagon.

“Okay,” said Jesse. “Cat cat it is.”

“Now,” Enoch replied, “put that spear down before someone gets hurt. Do you actually know how to use the thing?”

“Nope. Never held one before two weeks ago. But I did pretty well on my first try, don’t you think?”

When the sun was high they stopped for lunch beside the Elmer and let the horse graze and drink from the river. Here the brook was starting to widen to a real stream, and it flowed slower than when they had crossed it at the Albion bridge.

Jesse gave Enoch some of his dried beef, and made a sandwich for himself using some of the moldy biscuits.

“Tell me about the war, Enoch,” he said as he sat down to eat.

“Your tutors taught you about the war.”

“They taught me that history is written by the victors. Now, give it to me straight. The unabridged, politically incorrect, non-sanctioned by Atlantis version. What really happened and why?”

Enoch snarfed up the dried beef. “You don’t happen to have any dead rabbits in that saddlebag, do you?”

“No.”

“Hmmmm. Thought as much. Okay. I’ll tell you about the An-nef War. But don’t go prying about your father’s role, understood?”

“Fair enough.”

“Okay. Here’s the uncensored version. In the years leading up to the war, Atlantis pursued a policy of, ‘Atlantis for the Atlantans.’ What that meant was that legionnaires were sent south to clear the region that you know as ‘The Foothills’ of non-human, non-giant, and other non-Atlantan human stock so that Atlantans could settle here. That included many an-nef communities and some dark people.”

“Dark people?”

“Yeah. Humans like you, only with dark skin and black curly hair.”

“I’ve never heard of dark people before.”

“That’s because Atlantis would rather that they be forgotten. They’re not ashamed of what they did…they just would like to forget it. Make sense?”

“No.”

“Then you’re with me. Anyway, the legionnaires forced those that they displaced to march south to the Fog Mountains and released them somewhere the other side of Prophet’s Pass—a forced march of one-thousand miles. Many of the an-nef perished while crossing the Nara desert. To this day the an-nef call this, ‘The March of Death.’ Whatever happed to the dark people I have no idea, but the an-nef were taken in by other an-nef already settled in the jungle of Eden and they brought their tale of abuse at the hands of humans and giants to their ancient capital of Sodom. Back then Atlantis actually traded with Eden. We bought cotton and silk from them. They bought beer and wool from us. But four-hundred and ninety-eight years ago that all changed. A bull-head by the name of Mizriam rallied the an-nef together and launched a campaign to re-conquer southern Atlantis and drive out all humans from what is now known as the Foothills and the Territories. Mizriam raised an army of one-hundred-thousand an-nef and swept into the Territories like a flood. Unfortunately for him, he miscalculated how long that it would take to cross the Pishon River, and the Fog Mountains. What began as a spring campaign turned into a late fall march across the mountains. Mizriam’s army used triceratops to pull their giant catapults up through the mountain pass, and with cold weather setting in many of them died. The animals are cold-blooded reptiles—just not well suited for cold weather. Mizriam had to hook his own bull-heads up to the ropes to drag their war machines over the pass, wading through knee-deep snow.”

Jesse tossed Enoch another piece of dried beef, which Enoch gobbled up. “Go on,” he said.

“By the time that the an-nef army had made it to Mountain Shadows the snows were already falling there as well. Back then Mountain Shadows was a great city. Largest city between Sodom and Atlantis. Their walls were high and well-fortified, but they could only do so much to fend off this massive force. When the an-nef surrounded the city, however, Mountain Shadows sent out carrier pigeons to Atlantis, telling the emperor of the siege of the city. Herculous spared no time in setting out from Atlantis with a force twice the size of the an-nef, but he faced a march of two-thousand miles in the winter. Still, unlike the an-nef, Herculous had supply lines that kept his army fed.”

“Meanwhile, the citizens of Mountain Shadows were growing desperate, while the army of Eden was growing hungry. After a month of failing to break Mountain Shadow’s defenses, Mizriam struck a deal with its citizens. He convinced them that any relief from Atlantis would be too late in coming, and if the citizens of the city would only swear fealty to Eden, lay down their arms and open their gates then he would lift the siege and the city would be spared. Desperate for a way out, the citizens of Mountain Shadows took his offer.”

“But they were betrayed,” Jesse interjected.

“Yes, they were betrayed. As soon as the an-nef were inside the city walls they slaughtered its citizens and feasted on them. All fifty-thousand inhabitants of Mountain Shadows perished in one night. So hungry were the an-nef, that they gorged themselves on the dead, and many an-nef died from their own greedy appetites. The next morning they were shocked to look out from the city’s watchtowers to see the banners of Atlantis in the valley below, for the first of Atlantis’ light cavalry had arrived, and over the next six months two-hundred-thousand more legionnaires would join them. Mountain Shadows was once again a city under siege.”

“That winter things went from very bad to unbearable for Mizriam and Eden’s an-nef legion. In six months their besieged army shrunk from one-hundred-thousand to fifty-thousand as they died of exposure, starvation and cannibalism. As their numbers increased, Atlantans moved in close and began to fire flaming arrows over the walls. Many of the buildings, including the main granaries burned to the ground, denying Mizriam and his men needed food. By the time that the snows melted in the spring, the fifty-thousand that were left were too weak to fight and threatening revolt. Mizriam had to take a chance. One morning at daybreak he led a surprise attack against the Atlantans, smashing through their lines in an attempt to flee back up the pass. Herculous, however, was quick to respond. He divided his forces in two. One-hundred-thousand men pursued Mizriam on the mountain road, while the other hundred-thousand fought their way into the city, repulsing those an-nef that were still trying to escape.”