The Sleeper Sword (26 page)

Now this
punishment. The gloom land was vast, particularly for someone on
foot; add to it the injuries of torture, and the prospect of
walking out appeared slim. Yet, to walk was to find a way, and he
did not consider himself beaten.

Two guards
were tasked to follow, but were there to interfere only if the
strangers by happenstance came close to the borders of Enforcer
territory. Their orders were to kill if that happened. Punishment,
yes, and the hope despair would loosen tongues.

Margus was a
vengeful wreck. His injuries, serious as they were, were of small
priority to him. He had no recollection of his recent past, had no
inkling how he came to be in another place or even who he was with.
All memory was blanked away. Valaris, Vannis, the twins, his search
for beauty and the destruction thereof, Torrullin, dying … there
was nothing.

He could not
fathom the reason behind the night’s hell or the loss of his power.
The last clear thought he had was of descending into the nether
regions under his stronghold on a world now disintegrated, there to
pacify the voraciously hungry souls that were his creation and was
to become the army of doom he would unleash on Valaris.

“Who are you?”
he snarled for the umpteenth time as they laboriously hiked the
blackened land.

“Your
nemesis,” Torrullin responded, as he had each time Margus put the
question.

The Darak Or
hissed, lifted his hands in clawed anger and then dropped them when
nothing happened. It was a revealing of Margus’s naked soul, of the
real creature within.

A fair number
of paces behind, the guards looked at each other, at first smirking
and then with anxiety, as they understood what those eloquent hand
gestures signified. No power, true, but the mind of a sorcerer does
not change … ever.

“I must be
insane or this is a nightmare.”

“You are the
nightmare, Margus, and this shouldn’t be strange for you,”
Torrullin said. “Surely this is much like your homeworld?” He saw
only denial. “Concentrate on getting away from here.”

“Where is
here?”

“Better,
you’re thinking again. We are on or in an alternate realm, one
reached via death.”

Margus halted.
He clutched his stomach and had been doing so since they were
herded outside. “I’m dead? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Looks that way. I know
I
died.”

Margus seemed
more confused than ever. This place did look like his homeworld,
but without the sharpness and without the mud people of a dying
world. He was definitely not on any world he recalled visiting, but
he did not recall dying either. Had the mud people finally got to
him?

“How?” He
clutched harder at his midsection. “I feel! How can I be dead? My
soltakin? Where are they?”

“Your soulless
monsters?”

“You know of
my homeworld?”

Torrullin
shrugged. “You talk in your sleep.”

Margus stared
at him with hate-filled eyes, and was about to make a scathing
comment when a laser beam from behind pierced the gloom.

They turned to
see their shadows aiming at something closing in fast from the
right.

“Run, Margus,”
Torrullin commanded, seeing an opportunity. He began to move in the
opposite direction.

Margus was
truculent. “I don’t have to listen …”

“I can restore
your memory,” Torrullin whispered, “but won’t with witnesses about.
Those are marauders our loving guards shoot at, a lot of them.”

Margus nodded
and they ran as fast as they were able to and soon heard the
screams of their guards as marauders overwhelmed them.

Neither was in
a condition to run an extended period, not after being stretched
and compressed on barbaric instruments.

Minutes later
the marauders caught up with them.

Everything
went black.

It was night
when Torrullin regained consciousness or perhaps it was the stygian
dark.

He lay on a
camp cot in a camouflage tent, and he was alone. Firelight danced
on the material from a source outside. He sat, realising as he did
so his ribs were bound while he was not.

The marauders were either self-confident or they were
friendly.
The enemy of my
enemy
. Maybe.

“You’re
awake,” a female voice said as someone ducked into the tent. “Can
you stand? Tial will want to talk to you.”

In reply,
Torrullin rose. “Did you bind me?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. I
feel much better. My companion?”

“Tial
questions him now, he awoke a while back. He seemed worse than you,
but his injuries were superficial.” She steadied him as he
stumbled. “Here, let me help …”

He allowed
himself to be supported and led outside. A sea of tents and
hundreds of campfires greeted him, as well as the watchful gazes of
eyes. The night was star-filled clear.

“We are out of
Enforcer territory?”

“Yes, and
you’re lucky we came when we did; you were going the wrong
way.”

He glanced at
her, better able to see her in the firelight.

A pretty
woman, dusky skinned, dark eyes, long, silky black hair. He felt
its cool touch on his arm, felt his heart ache, a yearning for
someone left behind.

“I thought
you’re feared as much as those barbarians.”

She pulled a
face. “Those devils gave us our bad reputation. They dress like us,
darken their skins, and go raiding the innocent in our name,
calling us brigands. We’re peace-loving and desire only a space to
call home.”

“Too many of
you for their comfort?”

She shrugged.
“Something like that.” She pointed. “Tial is our leader. Come,
he’ll deal fairly with you.”

“Are we still
in the flower counties?”

“Is that where
they found you? Poor you. No, we’re on the other side of Enforcer
lands; come, Tial waits.”

Tial was a big
man and black as a moonless night. He was hairless and possessed
the most intelligent gaze Torrullin had encountered in a
non-Valleur.

No wonder
others mistook him and Margus for brigands, for Tial wore black
breeches similar to theirs and black boots. Eileen, back at the
farmhouse on the first day, was too trusting, looking past clothes
to the man under them, bless her heart.

An old and
threadbare tunic stretched over Tial’s muscled torso and beads
adorned his neck.

He waved
Torrullin to a log opposite, dark eyes scrutinising every
nuance.

Holding his
ribs, Torrullin sat, and then bowed. “Thank you, Tial, for your
hospitality.”

Tial said
nothing; merely studying the stranger he rescued. Two blond, white
men fleeing from Enforcers piqued his curiosity and then their
injuries garnered his sympathy.

Finally he
nodded. “You I can deal with, but that?” He jerked his head to the
left. “That is an evil man.”

Margus was
tied to a tree beyond the fire’s glow and a number of serious-eyed
men stood on either side of him.

Torrullin’s
lips quirked and his estimation of Tial’s leadership increased.
“I’m afraid so, but he is with me.”

“Why do you
travel with him?”

Torrullin
leaned forward. “I have a debt to settle.”

“He did
something to you? He claims never to have seen you before this
morning.”

“Memory loss.
The Enforcers were none too gentle.”

“Ah,” Tial
nodded. “And who are you?”

“I am
Torrullin.”

“Rings no
bells.”

“It won’t; we
are recent entrants.”

“That would
explain Enforcer attention. It doesn’t explain why they released
you.”

“I believe it
was final punishment, for the guards were instructed to kill us if
we managed to attain the border.”

Tial smiled.
“Then you’re fortunate we happened along.”

“I thank you
for your help.” Torrullin touched his bound ribs.

“My daughter
is an excellent medicine woman. Tiana, fetch our guest something to
eat and drink.”

The woman who
helped him rose. Tiana was not as dark as her father and was
gracefully slender. She returned with a platter of steaming
vegetables and a mug of bitter ale, presenting both with a
smile.

“Thank you,
Tiana,” Torrullin acknowledged.

He was
ravenous and bent to the task, finding the simple meal delicious.
From the tree a gagged Margus snarled. Obviously he had not been
fed and Torrullin grinned into his ale, catching the answering
sparkle in the big black man’s eyes.

“What did he
do to you?” Tial asked as his guest laid aside empty dishes.

Torrullin
glanced at the furious figure. “He can’t remember now, but soon he
will know why I keep him at my side. He is responsible for the
death of my son.” Sons, but that did not bear thinking about.

“Ah, and you
fought a duel, only to find death is but another reality.” Tial
nodded. “You need to find the death, for him, to plunge him into a
netherworld like to Enforcer territory, but from where he can’t
escape.”

Torrullin was
thoughtful. Tial spoke as if aware of escape from this realm. “I
seek that doorway, for him, as I seek the one that will return me
to my homeworld.”

Tial was as
thoughtful. “To do something like that one would require the
anonymity of time. Are you aware of the time warp?”

“I am.”

“I think you
are far more than you appear to be.”

“Perhaps.”

“Definitely,
Torrullin. I’m a good judge of character.”

Torrullin
grinned. “Agreed. You saw through him.”

Tial smiled
wider and was then serious. “I’ll help you. Only the Numer Enforcer
knows the answers to exit from the Plane - and I see you’re aware
of that - but he’s impossible to find, and if found, it would take
an army to get close. However, luck is with you once more.”

“Oh?”

A grin. “We
saw him two days ago and, with a mite more luck, we could pick up
his trail. I seek the creature myself; he escaped me, but we’ll
find him.” Tial pointed a finger at Torrullin. “As to the nether
door you seek for that one, it doesn’t exist on the Plane. He’ll
have to die a natural death here, and the state of his soul will
determine his destination, I’m sorry.”

“I cannot risk
it. Margus is too clever. I won’t leave the Plane while he lives
and I can’t afford to await a natural death. I need make my own
luck.”

“Kill
him?”

“If
necessary.”

“Would that
not make you like him?”

“So be
it.”

Tial inclined
his head. “Killing him guarantees nothing.”

“I know. I
won’t touch him until I’m sure.”

“Thus you keep
him with you.” Tial looked away. A thoughtful expression crossed
his features anew. “Tell me, have you found others helpful on the
Plane?”

Torrullin
inclined his head. “Surprisingly.”

“Do you know
why that is? We’re all aware of time here, even those born
generations after original entrance. When we meet a stranger, we
have but minutes to judge. Most don’t understand why that is - it’s
ingrained now and nobody questions a dubious trait - and yet it’s
there and unassailable.” Tial rose. “I’ll help you make your luck,
Torrullin.”

Torrullin was
astonished. “Thank you.”

Tial bowed his
head. “Only a man with a heart can be sincerely surprised. Now, a
while back we had someone infiltrate the Enforcer enclave and he
spoke of a route back to the round lands, and it has side doors.
Perhaps one of those doors lead to Hell, hmm?”

Torrullin was
even more astonished. “I thought you claimed it was
impossible.”

“I still do,
but I may be wrong.”

“May I speak
with this man?”

“Sadly, he’s
with us no longer, but he left notes, a bunch of symbols he copied.
Perhaps it has meaning for you. To us it’s gibberish.” He called
his daughter closer. “Feed that animal at the tree, and then equip
these two with gear to ride out with the coming of dawn. And,
Tiana, ask Brenn and Zual to be ready to accompany us.”

“Are you
taking them to the place you saw the Numer?”

“Time is of
the essence, daughter.”

She nodded and
left.

Tial led his
guest to his tent, where they poured over the cryptic notes, but in
the end it was gibberish to Torrullin also.

Chapter
29

Day Four:
Liberators

1400 - 1200
years ago

While Enforcer
territory flanked the flower counties, marauder territory flanked
the stygian lands on the other side, but whether it would be
considered west or south or any direction was impossible to tell;
the sun did different things for different territories.

Enforcers
called the neighbouring land marauder territory, but it was a
misnomer, for the so-called marauders’ hold was tenuous at best and
they constantly defended their right to domicile. The marauder and
brigand label was a manufactured thing, entrenched as evil by the
horrible deeds of Enforcers in the guise of those they sought to
undermine and malign. It was a more profound war than the
skirmishes that formed part of marauder life.

The marauders
were known among their own as the Deorc, an ancient term for
‘dark’. They were a race of black people and possessed hearts as
pure as the light.

Tial told how
the Deorc once roamed the limitless lands of the Plane without
hindrance, and without prejudice. Many went on to eternal bliss
from the flatland - the Plane was akin to purgatory, a place to
find oneself, to make a soul’s true choice.

When Torrullin
asked why they were then few, given the sheer scale of the
universe, Tial explained there were many Deorc beyond the Falcon
Isles. Once they were together and knew total freedom. Then the
Enforcers came.