Zenak (9 page)

She smiled at him and to her surprise he smiled back. For the first time in his vicious life, he was truly happy and his bony, white face reflected this feeling with a pleasant smile. Mara rose, taking Vokar's arm as they walked to the town. If one had seen them one would have said that they were a picture of true bliss. How sad that such happiness could be produced from such evil.

Meanwhile, the people in the town were astonished. Never in their bleak but sometimes happy lives had they ever seen a storm disperse so rapidly.

“The gods were with us,” said an old shawl-covered woman as she stared blankly out of her window.

Within minutes the main street was filled with the towns­folk. There was laughing, singing, and praise to the gods. Even the ones who had lost loved ones in the terrible storm felt a spark of happiness inside as they searched by the riverbank for the bodies of their relatives and friends. All the people of the town, save for one, were in the main street. They were pushing and shoving each other jovially and a cry of joy came out from the crowd when two tavern owners brought out five caskets of wine and a grocer came out of his store with a cart­load of bread, meat, and cheese.

It was a joyful town that Vokar and Mara observed as they entered the main street of town.

“Just as I expected,” Vokar said. “All the peons are celebrating. Like animals they have all gathered in the main street. It will be extremely easy to take over their minds.”

“Could you do it without all of them together?” Mara asked revealing a natural curiosity.

“Of course, but for the first try I prefer having them together so I can be sure to get all their minds,” Vokar said without looking at Mara.

He looked greedily at the crowd. He thought to himself that these people will be in his power and that they were just a delicious sampling of the people yet to come under his sinister power. He stopped a little away from the crowd and stood quietly. Not a muscle in his body moved; he seemed to be engrossed deeply in concentration. Mara stared at Vokar wondering what was going through his mind. He would not even take the slightest notice of her and this made her impatient. She sat down with the child and rocked him while she waited for Vokar.

For some reason the entire town had ignored the presence of Vokar and Mara (another source of her impatience.) Why the town did not take notice of so strange a couple standing relatively close to them is open to question. No matter what the reason Vokar was left to his mischief. The town could not feel the omi­nous presence. They could not feel that they were slowly going under his spell. It took time, but Vokar's concentration per­meated the crowd's mind, and after a short movement of the sun the entire town, still wrapped up in its party, was enveloped in Vokar's mind.

While all this was happening Mara had put her baby on the ground and taken her blouse off so she could enjoy the sun to its fullest extent.

“Stop,” said Vokar in voice so low that Mara couldn't hear him.

Immediately the entire town froze in position. Mara look­ed up at Vokar in shocked response. She rose quickly and put her blouse on. Vokar then began reciting his orders to the town.

“A man, your King Zenak, will ride through here tomorrow. When he enters the town you will all rush him with anything you can use as a weapon and slay him,” The people did not move, but stayed in their posi­tions and unconsciously listened. Vokar, looking at the blacksmith, continued, “Bring me your two best riding marks complete with fur-covered saddles.” Vokar then turned to Mara and said, “Now we ride for Mea.”

“What! We don't rest!” exclaimed Mara.

“We will rest in Mea in a little less than an hour,” Vokar said.

“What are you talking about? Mea is at least another month's ride from here,” Mara said in an astonished tone.

“You seem to forget my powers, don't you? We shall be trans­ported by them instead of by marks,” Vokar said.

“So what do we need the marks for?” Mara asked.

“Mea is the capitol of Soci, a nation of wizards. I must be careful not to display all my powers at one time, for one can never tell whether or not the great wizards of Soci may be just as powerful as I. And if they find they don't like such a powerful man amongst them, we may never get a chance to rule, for we may be killed as dangerous foreign wizards. We shall be transported a few miles from Mea, to its dark surrounding forest, and ride in.”

Mara nodded to Vokar that she understood. Then she rea­died the prince for the trip by strapping him to her back.

“Ah, here come our marks,” Vokar said as the blacksmith brought two black shiny marks to the couple's side. The black­smith stared at them with glassy eyes.

The couple mounted their marks. Vokar looked around, smiled, and said a short incantation; then they disappeared.

The moment Vokar and Mara disappeared, the clamor and ex­citement of the post-storm party resumed as if Vokar and Mara had never landed on the shore of this town and sealed the townsfolk's doom. Only the blacksmith was a little perplexed because he could not remember moving out of the ale line, which he had been through three times, and going to the outskirts of the party. But he gave it little thought and went back to the ale line laugh­ing and joking with the others.

When Vokar had cast his spell he thought that the entire town was present. Why he thought this, only he could say. Possi­bly, he felt too sure of himself, or, possibly, he did not care if a few people were missing from the party. The last hypothesis, though, is rather unlikely for Vokar was sure he knew all. The fact of the matter, however, was that one person had been missing from the party. His name was Tak, well-known as a great hunter. Tak was young. He was twenty-two, with his heart full of love and fun. He was also the most agile and strongest man in the area and he loved to show his strength at any gathering, especially after a few ales. It was not like him to miss a party, but he had slept through the beginning of the party and the arrival and departure of Vokar and Mara. Tak did not arrive at the festivities until later on in the afternoon. Until then he had been in a straw bed in the back part of an attic of the tallest house in Gaston. He had gone back there the night before with a large flagon of wine and a young pert wench to satisfy what he felt was the last of his days. For even though Tak was a great hunter and great fighter, he could not swim a stroke, and with the water rising rapidly the night be­fore, Tak felt it was his last night to live. And live he did. All through the night he and his woman for the evening enjoyed themselves to the fullest extent a young man and a wild young woman can. At first light both of them fell asleep satisfied from a night of wine and love. As is usual for women, the young wench did not sleep long but later in the morning left the side of her lover and crept back to her parent's side even before the storm had let up. Tak, however, slept deeply and soundly after his final hurrah to life, love, and wine.

When Tak awoke he awoke with a start because he was dreaming the flood waters had reached him and that his great sword was pulling him under the crashing waves. To his relief he realized right away that he was dreaming. So he lay calmly back on his straw bed and chewed on a piece of loose straw while he thought with relish of the previous night. It had been wonderful! The young woman had been occupying a corner of the second floor with her parents. Tak saw her when he was looking for a place to settle down for the night. Her parents had al­ready gone to sleep, but she had stayed up and was knitting by candlelight when Tak saw her. As is normal with all twenty-two-year-olds he debated with himself for at least a half an hour on how to approach this woman and what to say to her when he did approach her. Some men, especially in Deparne, would have taken the direct approach and just dragged her off to a corner, but Tak was a hunter and had spent much of his life in the moun­tains hunting with his father. He knew how to capture any wild animal, but a woman was a different thing all together, so finally to her amusement, for she had seen him the instant he entered the room, he shuffled over toward her, acting as if he were studying the woodwork. She spoke first, “Hello Tak.”

“You know me?” he asked in amazement.

“Of course, everyone knows the great hunter Tak,” she said while she smiled shyly at him.

This was the inducement Tak was looking for. He smiled back at her and, his courage bolstered, walked boldly up, and asked rather loudly, “How about drinking some wine with me in the attic? Um…oh, what's your name?” The sleeping father grumbled at the loud racket. Both of them looked at him and said and did nothing until the old man was snoring again.

“Last question first. My name is Marga. And yes, I would love to drink some wine with you in the attic,” she said softly so as not to wake her now slumbering father.

The two then crept up to the attic found an empty bed, and before Tak even knew it he was being lovingly raped by this smooth fair-skinned blond wench. The drinking and the loving went on all night until they both fell into blissful sleep. This is what Tak thought about as he lay in his straw bed. Then he realized that the rain had stopped. Had the end come and was the building floating on the floodwaters? His question unanswered in the straw bed Tak jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs. To his surprise no one was there. He walked to one of the windows and looked out upon a sunlit, green landscape rather than pounding rain and raging wind. He threw open the window and breathed in the warm air and basked for a moment in the warm sunlight that poured into the room.

“How long have I slept?” Tak asked himself, for he knew a storm of the intensity that had raged before he went to sleep couldn't stop just like that. He then looked down and noticed the packed pandemonium that was going on in the main street below. The people were so thick that Tak couldn't even see a cobblestone. “Craziness has struck all the people and I alone am sane,” Tak said softly to himself. Then he laughed out loud and rushed down the porch stairs of the old wooden building to the street.

“Tak,” called the blacksmith, “by all the gods where have you been?”

“Sleeping,” Tak replied. He was loved by the town and known for his sparingness with words. Tak looked at the party and smiled, his teeth glistened in the sun­light.

“Tak let me tell you what has happened in the time you have been sleeping, for it is obvious by your face that you are curious,” the blacksmith said. Then the smithy began a rather long description of how the storm abated and how the party had begun. He of course, left out the presence of Vokar and Mara for they were never included in his memories.

Tak listened to the blacksmith with heavy intensity and his brows creased when he heard that the storm cleared away with­in seconds.

“What's the matter?” the blacksmith asked as he looked at the consternation on Tak's face.

“Not many Gastonians have been to Soci, but in my short young life I have seen this mysterious land beyond the Volski. When I was sixteen I fought these wizards and sorcerers, and I know too well their power,” Tak said.

“Yes, so what of it?” the smith asked. He was a little irritated at what he thought was Tak's inflated ego for being some place no one in Gaston had been to.

“The point is, my short, strong friend, that no storm ends, the way you described it, naturally. It has to be the work of wizards or maybe even one great wizard,” Tak said.

“So what, we are safe aren't we? I say hail to the great wizards if they are the ones that made us safe.”

“No! Whenever a wizard does something for other people it is either for his profit or for his evil lust. I trust not what I see and by the gods I feel we should send a carrier to King Zenak and tell him of this unusual occurrence,” Tak said with un­usual zeal of tongue.

Then the smithy did something totally out of character apparently because Vokar's magic stretched further into the subconscious than even Vokar had imagined. Even the mention of Zenak's name made the people Vokar mesmerized go into a rage and kill the utterer of the king's name. Vokar had never planned for this.

At the mention of Zenak's name by young Tak, the black­smith went into a shaking rage. “Don't ever mention that scum's name to me again. If you say his name again I will tear you apart piece by piece,” the smith yelled. He then grabbed the upper part of Tak's arm and squeezed it with a strength that Tak would have never thought of the smith.

“Are you crazy?” Tak asked as he pried the smith's hand from his aching arm. “What do you mean? Why just yesterday you were telling me you'd give your life for our King Zenak.”

The blacksmith, even in blind, unthinking rage, was no idle threat maker. No sooner had the words of the name Zenak been released from Tak's mouth than the smith jumped Tak with a force driven by insanity. The blacksmith was a powerful man and his brawny arms were only weaker than Tak's because he was thirty-five years older than Tak. The unknown and, as far as Tak knew, uncalled for aggression took the hunter by total surprise, and before he knew it Tak was on the ground with the mighty blacksmith on top of him choking the life from his youthful body. Tak, however, was a trained fighter and he went immediately into action. He swung his legs up, wrapped them about the smithy's head and neck, and proceeded to pull the aggressor backward. But the smith's bulky, bull-like neck was strong and would not give way to Tak, and Tak could feel his life being squeezed out of his body. Then, in a final effort, Tak's great legs proved to be too much even for the blacksmith's knotty neck muscles. The blacksmith let go of Tak's neck and was thrown backward as he tried to pry Tak's legs from his neck. Tak let go of the smith, who jumped up again. But be­fore he could resume his assault, Tak landed a smashing upper cut into the bearded jaw of the insane man. The blacksmith fell backward and Tak slipped out from under him and bounded to his feet.

“What's wrong with you? I don't want to fight you, old man,” Tak yelled at the smith.