Looking at a stunned little Fish, the Knight then said, "Hmm, this is right around the time you were born. You were not born here were you?" Shaking his head adamantly, Little Fish said, "No Sir Knight! I was born in a little fishing village." "Good!" said the Knight relieved. “Saving the ancestors of one among us was more than enough." The Chief rolled his eyes at the mention of their previous adventure and said, "So how are we going to find out if my men are here?"
The Knight gave a long sigh and said, "Don't worry, your men are here Chief." "How could you know where they are? We just got here?" Looking his companion straight in his blue eyes, the Knight replied, "I saw them here... thirteen years ago." Both the Chief and Little Fish gasped at the Knight's claim. The Knight looked up through the planks from where he sat and said, "On top of still being in the past, we still have two more problems. First, Chief take out the remaining yellow stone my wife gave you."
The Chief pulled the pouch out from under his plainspun shirt and undid the drawstring. With the bag open, soft yellow light streamed upward into the Chief's face. "All right Chief, I just wanted to check. Don't take the stone out. You’ll need it... later." Quickly closing the bag the Chief asked, "What does this mean Sir Knight? The stones only glow when other ones are near." Looking to his companions the Knight replied, "Exactly. I just saw my former employer carrying a cane with one of the yellow stones embedded in it.
According to my wife, there is only one place the stones come from. You gave one for Mjarga's safekeeping and you have the other. None of your men carried any when they left the Valley and none in the Valley ever trades them away. So that leaves only one possibility...." A thrilled Little Fish interjected, "That person with the cane is from the Valley!" The two men looked to the boy and nodded in agreement. "More interesting than that, because of the stone my former employer knows we are here." Turning to the boy with all seriousness the Knight said, "I dislike asking, but I must. What you can see of this Little Fish?"
Little Fish was dumbfounded by the Knight's request. Though he'd learned to 'see' as the Priestess taught him, he only did so when she was with him! With her presence nearby, he always felt safe seeing what was. To do it here in so strange a place with the lowest of sea creatures crawling about them was scary at the least! Yet, the man Little Fish most aspired to be like sat stone-faced with expectation awaiting his answer. Unable to hold the Knight's gaze Little Fish snapped, "I'm afraid!"
With surprising gentleness the Knight placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and said, "As well you should be. We are doing things the people of the Valley tell stories about. You already saw it was we the Chief’s people sing those songs about! Now we know where the Chief's men are and must go rescue them. But there are some very bad people keeping them prisoner. If you can see what they are planning to do with the Chief's men, we may be able to save them before they get hurt. The Priestess asked me to bring you with us on this journey. She had every reason to believe in you. The Chief believes in you and so do I."
Near to tears Little Fish said in a small voice, "But what if I see something bad?" The Knight's expression softened slightly and he replied, "What does the Priestess always say?" "You'll see what you see," replied the boy as if reciting a mantra. After a pause, Little Fish closed his eyes. Instead of the immediate appearance of the vision a painful flash of red washed through him!
Suddenly, he was in a dark place not unlike underneath the pier. Around him were dank stone walls and all was washed in harsh red light and deep black shadows. About the walls ragged men resembling the Chief were hanging from chains and screaming in pain. In the center of it all was a strange figure wearing a stranger head and upper body garment that except for the shadows it cast, blended with the harsh red light. The bottom half of the figure was covered in a garment black as the very shadows and it seemed alive as it moved with its wearer.
Most prominent was a gnarled black cane topped with a glowing yellow stone the size of a baby's fist. Its yellow light harsher than the red, fell upon the stone floor where a young woman was chained. The floor beneath her seethed with crawling sand fleas, crabs and other lowest of sea creatures. The young woman screamed as the creatures swarmed over her and the Chief's men. Suddenly, the woman looked directly at Little Fish and screamed, "SAVE US!"
No sooner said, she was engulfed by the crawling things and thousands of them swarmed into her mouth! From her body swollen and throbbing with the crawling things, a dark figure burst outward in a shower of what looked to be blood. It was a warrior holding a strange looking dark sword with his face covered in what looked to be a dead man's skull!
"AHHHH!" screamed the boy as he opened his eyes. Little Fish was abruptly embraced by the Knight who said, "It's all right boy, it will be fine!" "Odd's blood! What did the boy see to make him cry out so?" The Knight had no answer for the Chief. He did not share the power to see with his wife or the boy. The Knight steeled himself for though he felt for Little Fish, they had to know his vision. The Knight had lived these events thirteen years ago, but now he was on the other side of them. Not long from now, his past self would fight the only warrior to ever best him. Whereas the Chief had his songs to guide him, he only had his memories and whatever the boy's vision had to tell!
Giving Little Fish a gentle shake, the Knight said sternly, "Now that's enough of that! The time has come for you to start learning to act like a man. No matter what you saw Little Fish, you must tell us now. We will not make it home if you don't."
Still shaken from what he'd seen, Little Fish did his best to wipe his eyes and show his courage. He was brave enough to have jumped off the Great Dam, so being afraid of a vision before the Knight and Chief wasn't 'manly'! With a quick look he saw the crawly things nearing his sandaled feet and jerked both legs out of their reach. With a long deep breath, Little Fish said, "Sir..., t-this is what I saw...."
****
The view from the palace's main tower was the Slaver King's favorite at sunset. Already the streets below were dotted with lit torches and braziers. Within moments, his city would change its look from that of man's creation to mimicking the starfields yet to appear. His family built this city from the desert dust on the backs of uncounted numbers of slaves for generations. For all that time, the Golden Towered City of Aduni had stood here in defiance of would be invaders, usurpers, plagues and the power of the Great Desert itself! Now according to his wizened Aunt, events were about to occur which would give him access to the greatest power of them all!
The King always felt his Aunt was insane with all her talk of 'The Sacred Land' and the powers which could be gained by going there. However, there had always been an 'Aunt' among the Royal Family and their counsel was not to be trifled with. For the last few years, the latest Aunt old as she was, grew more excited with each passing day in anticipation. The King could have cared less. What his Aunt was good for came from her ability to give counsel on war, politics and business. She always knew the best course of action in any endeavor and did not interfere in the everyday workings of the kingdom. If she wanted to indulge in her witchcraft, so be it.
What the King was most interested in at the moment, was his newest acquisition. Turning from the window, the King nodded to his Minister. Tapping a long hardwood carved staff capped in silver upon the stone floor, the Minister gave the signal for the contest to begin. Six slaves armed with various weapons surrounded a slightly smaller unarmed man. All six, moved in unison to attack the one. With an eerie calm, the One spun clear of the melee and climbed the back of the nearest slave. The shocked slave swung his spear upwards to knock the One off his shoulders. As the others grouped and closed in on the impromptu duo, the One caught the spear’s shaft just below its blade-like head.
Stepping down hard enough to cause his unwilling support's collarbone to snap, the One launched himself clear once more. Landing confidently after a twisting somersault, the One stood with his back to the five slaves regrouping amidst the wails of their injured fellow. First to reach the One was a lanky and wiry built swordsman with two curved scimitars whirling about his body like silver ribbons. Having taken the injured slave’s spear, without turning around the One held the shaft with a twice shoulder-wide grip and blocked both sword strikes.
The King watched in amazement as the One lowered his center of gravity and spun with such speed as to sweep away the swordsman with a vicious shin-kick accented by the sound of breaking ribs! As his former opponent screaming in agony struck the ground, the One now faced the advancing four slaves. Heedless of their fallen fellows, a large red-haired axeman with a round wooden shield rushed in for a killing stroke with his single bladed axe.
Once more, the King's eyes went wide as the One slid sideways to the axeman's shield side and shoved the blunt point of the spearshaft into the slave's shield. Allowing the slave's momentum to push back on the spear, the shaft slid backwards through the One's hands and lodged in between the rough floorstones. Caught completely off-balance, the Axeman was stopped abruptly as the anchored spear forced him to slam into his own shield! With the rest of his body bouncing backwards, the axe swung uncontrollable into the slave's flailing leg.
In an attempt to take advantage of the One's vulnerable position, a burly slave wielding a great iron cleaver swung to hack off the arm holding his spear. Sliding his hand down the shaft, the one watched as the cleaver sliced through the hardwood shaft and buried itself in the floor. With another graceful spin, the One still holding the business-end of the broken spear swung upward bringing the blade around in a trailing arc of blood. The two remaining slaves did not see the wielder of the cleaver fall over dead for they were trying to wipe his blood from their eyes.
Desperate to clear their vision, the pair of slaves expected the One to come in for the kill. Instead they heard a frighteningly calm voice say, "I can wait." Terribly amused, the King clapped his hands and said, "Give them water and cloth!" Quickly, a tandem collared pair of male and female youths rushed to the two slaves with a brass bowl of water and plainspun cloths.
The King saw he was not the only one enjoying the evening's diversion. His Minister and the courtiers present were transfixed upon the One who's face was covered by a tied black cloth. While the remaining slaves quickly washed, the One stood still in the very position he held when the contest was halted. The man was magnificent in the King's eyes. With but his masked face and a knee-high black skirt about his lower body, the man cut a figure to rival that of a stone god! Yet, there was no bluster or swagger exhibited. Only the aura of absolute calm emanated from him which was the most frightening thing about the man.
The slaves completed their wash and signaled their readiness to continue. The One had not moved during the respite and stood waiting for the contest to renew. The Minister's staff banged the floorstones and the contest continued in earnest. This time, the duo coordinated their attacks which caused the One to dodge the two-pronged fishing spear and parry the hand-held scythe with the broken spear. With their concentrated efforts, the One gave ground by backing up ever farther towards the throne room doors. Just when it seemed the One may be in trouble, his foot stepped on something making a loud wooden scrape.
With a flip of his foot, the One brought the broken half of the spear to his free hand and began to weave a tapestry of parries and strikes which confounded the two slaves. Try as they did to continue their coordination, the One picked them apart one cut and one swat at a time. When one slave attacked, he was evaded or blocked and his fellow received a wound. Covered in bruises and blood streaming cuts, the duo were at their limit. Both roared enraged as they charged forward to the attack. Astonishing to all present, the One dove forward rolling and kicked upwards under the guards of the dismayed slaves. Striking them both hard in their breastbones, the duo flew backwards with weapons flung from their hands.
Rolling backwards, the One regained his feet as the two slaves struck the stone floor unable to breathe. The contest clearly over, the Slaver-King clapped his hands repeatedly in appreciation of the fine display of martial artistry. For the One was certainly an artist... of death. It was unlikely there existed any man alive who could match him!
"Ah my young friend, once more you put on a fine spectacle. Even my courtiers give you your richly deserved praise." The One turned his masked face toward the crowd of over-painted and over-dressed courtier's as they threw coins at him while shouting the name they'd given him, 'The One'.
It was a name to his mind was just as much curse as compliment for it meant, 'the one no one can beat.' Though barely out of adolescence, the one had been fighting since he was out of swadling. In all that time no man, woman or beast had been able to best him. He had fought his way to this legendary city by the sea to hopefully find at least one warrior to give him a challenge. So far, all he had found were pathetic hangers-on attached to a decadent King profiting on the misery of thousands.
Looking at the Slaver-King and his people, the One saw their blood-lust spill out into the throne room. Yet, he was certain none of them would channel that lust for another's blood and stride forth to face him. For now this silly charade would have to be endured. In the meantime, he would continue to take down their so-called 'best' and take their silver as well. Here at the end of the world, he would wait until a real warrior made his presence known. Only then would he find out if he was truly, 'The One'.
© 2011 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved.
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