Bewildering Stories


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Battle Seer

Chapter 3: “A Secret Untold,” part 2

by Julian Lawler

Battle Seer began in issue 118.
Chapter 3, part 1 appears in this issue.


“My lord,” came Larson’s hard voice. “Sorry for the interruption, but I think you should come and see this. Father Rayul and Lord Ian have asked me to summon you.”

There was a sense of urgency in he man’s voice Palance couldn’t ignore. Reaching for the container holding his sealed letter, he stuffed it inside his cloak. He reached for his sword and moved towards his bed and slipped his boots on.

“Is something amiss?” he asked as he pushed through the door into the large marble corridor. Light Bearers, from the young apprentices in brown robes to the older masters in forest green, moved down the hall like ghosts roaming endlessly without a purpose. Palance, sheathing his black-hilted sword, joined the throng, moving in the direction the priests were headed. He beckoned his guard to follow.

“What’s going on, Larson?” he asked his bodyguard. They pushed through the priests and took hurried steps without breaking into a dead run. Corridors branched off to either side at every thirty paces, but they stayed on course, following the main connecting hallway. At every interval, large plants hung from the ceiling in brown pots. Torches hung on sconces, burning and hissing with angry flames and bathing everything in an ethereal light.

“I think you should see this for yourself, my lord,” replied the big man. “Father Rayul is already waiting for you.”

“Where?”

“On the top floor, my lord,” Larson turned through a high archway off to the left. Palance followed him into a dark chamber. A stairway rose up into the dark above them like a snake coiled around a stick. At the top, through a glass dome, Palance could see stars winking back at him. The stairway was a vast piece of amazing stonework.

Their footsteps echoed back and forth, drowning out any attempts for him to ask Larson questions. For a second, Palance thought he heard footsteps behind him. He willed himself to look back but found nothing in the darkness. It is just the echoes, he told himself. It didn’t help any that the stairway behind him was completely dark. Maybe the stories of haunts in the place were true.

When they reached the top, Larson unlatched a built-in glass door and pushed it out. Palance immediately felt the brush of fresh air against his face. He climbed through to an open and clear sky. The moon rose above the horizon, climbing steadily like a turtle across land. The light from the moon left the eastern part of the city, the only part of the city Palance could make out from his vantage point, in shadows, silhouetting each structure without detail. Stars twinkled overhead, dancing to their nightly song of wishful thinking and lovers’ dreams.

At the edge of the roof, looking down to the city of Nomen below stood three men. They were so engrossed with whatever they were looking at that they didn’t notice his arrival until he was right behind them. The roof was clean of pebbles and rubble. Palance was able to walk on it without making a sound.

The first man, who wore black breeches with a long black sleeve shirt, turned to him and bowed. His movements were quick and graceful.

“Good morning, my lord,” came his steely voice. “Midnight has brought us a wondrous sight.” His visage was grim. His hard brown eyes took in everything with a glance. His brown, cropped hair helped accentuate his solid form.

“The same to you, Eliath,” greeted the prince. Eliath Camil commanded Palance’s Iinnin Lodar.

Palance recognized the last two men immediately. Father Rayul, wearing white robes, did not turn to look at him as he pulled up next to him. The priest, his eyes etched with wisdom lines and peppered hair, only nodded to acknowledge him. He had his hands clasped behind his back as he studied the view below, which was still hidden from Palance’s line of sight.

“Good morning to you, Father.” The prince said. He had an unsettling feeling he was being watched. He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder again. He would trust in Larson to keep watch.

The third and last man turned to greet him. He wore a large, blue cape that billowed slightly. He wore a rapier at his side and a long, curved dagger strapped to his leg. He wore black gloves to protect his hands and a white shirt with pale breeches.

“My lord,” came his smooth voice from a face outlined by blonde hair. “Excuse the circumstances we have met under tonight. But you must see this. Now you will finally understand why my city sleeps when nighttime comes. I realize that these things don’t happen everyday, but you must fully understand why the Nations dread when the moon is out.” His dark eyes were lined with concern.

“You are blessed to live in Geamehn,” he continued. “I don’t know what you and your father have done to rid your city of its evil, but maybe one day you will do the same for Nomen. It gets worse here as the days go by. It has been only a couple of weeks since anything like this happened. Before rumors of the Wreathleak spread through the city, it only used to happen every so often. About every couple of months, to be precise. Now it gets worse. How long before worse things begin to appear? How long before dremions begin to control their fear of cities and people? Come and I will point out to you what we see.”

He moved Palance towards the edge of the roof.

The city of Nomen was a large one. It did not lack business or diversity in people. Large buildings rose up to meet the sky. Large, tall buildings stood next to small buildings like tombstones in a graveyard. A few meager lights showed through windows. It was a beautiful night and the sight was breath taking. What gave him more thought was how empty the streets were.

Magical orbs of light hung from corner posts throughout the city. Each light radiated softly to provide light for the weary traveler that might catch himself going home after dark for whatever reason.

The lights in all the Nations would not have revealed a single soul out in those streets. The only movement Palance caught was a glimpse of swirling trash being carried by the wind down a road. In the distance a dog barked.

“Forget the city, Palance,” stated the priest, his gaze still riveted. “Show him, Ian.”

Palance followed the priest’s eyes to a spot about two blocks away from where they stood. The Lord of Nomen pointed, as well. At first all he saw was a street winding its way between two buildings. He could see another street intersecting with the first one. He found the magical orb they were pointing at, but found nothing of consequence. He was told to keep his gaze riveted there until he saw what they were seeing. So he did as he was told. It took a moment for Palance to focus on the spot. Then it came. What he saw chilled him to the bone.

Figures danced beneath the pale light of the street lamp. It was a sensual exercise of steps and movements. They twirled and jumped like swans in a pond. They floated in space, inside all the darkness that surrounded them. Some of the men and women came and went.

Fifteen men, women, and children, played and sang to tunes heard from another world. Their shapes were blithe and they were clothed in rags, but the smiles on them never wavered. They clapped along with a single little girl who was capturing the group’s attention. She strutted and pranced and she made her ghostly audience laugh. She bowed in appreciation and began to kick and dance again.

The sight would have been beautiful to anyone watching. Such freedom was not something the people of Nomen could take.

The little girl began to fade after a couple of steps and she winked out of existence. Palance’s dread subsided. These ghosts were lifeless shells. There was no danger in them. Then another ghostly figure took her place. This one was a man. He joined the silent party without skipping a beat. The people shifted and faded, and some never came back and others never left the entire time. Women, old and young, grabbed men and sent them spinning across the street.

Then the whole group shimmered.

Another group stood in their place. These ghosts were all women, fifteen like the first set. They wore nets around their waist down to the ground. The blouses they wore left their bellies exposed to the breeze. Their hair was uncombed.

With snakelike movements, they swayed their hips and held their arms over their heads. They paraded around the street enticing anyone to look at them. They got as far as they could without leaving the circle the light above them was casting. Palance knew if they crossed it, it would only mean one thing for them.

Death.

They wore no shoes. Palance felt his face flush and his heartbeat quicken. It would be nice to dance with them. The steps didn’t look so hard. He was sure he could do it, too, just given the chance to try. It would be a harmless dance.

Suddenly the city of Nomen began to grow bright. The buildings began to glow and the lights that were evident earlier faded. Darkness melted away. As he stood there, the streets began to bustle with activity. People came out of their homes, shops, and taverns to go about their daily business. Daylight was precious and people wasted none of it.

Below, the scene was the same. The women continued to dance in the light of the morning. People gathered around them to look at the sensual display. Women peered with disdain at the men who looked on eagerly. Children watched.

Boys peeked behind their mother’s skirts at something they knew was not for their eyes. The fact that they were watching something forbidden kept them riveted. The rage the young boys felt for the women kept them in place.

The girls were less bashful as they tried to copy the movements of the dance they one day hoped to master. In that dance, they saw power to take their own lives into their own hands. Even to young minds that still didn’t know anything about life, the dance held power and inhibitions. They didn’t seem to care that when this was all over they would go home to suffer the wrath of their mothers.

Palance watched from the rooftop as one of the ghostlike belly dancers moved to the edge of the circle cast by the overhead street orb. She moved gracefully until she was right in front of a man who watched her with desire in his eyes. He seemed to have forgotten that his arm was still around his wife’s waist.

In the morning light, Palance watched as two of the dancers pulled two little girls towards them. They pulled up side by side and began to teach the little girls their dance, which in turn giggled with delight. The crowd seemed to find the girls’ shyness delightful and they laughed, the mother a little reluctantly.

A little boy, finding the courage from deep within, ran from behind his mother into the circle of dancers where one of them picked him up. The little boy laughed as he hugged the woman.

Suddenly the crowd was inside the circle of light that spilled on to the street. An alarm went off somewhere in the prince’s mind. Palance wanted to shout. He wanted to warn them. The people were in great danger. He knew anybody inside the light would die. He looked on, helpless and transfixed. He had a sudden eagerness for the bloodshed that was about to come. It raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

With strength Palance found impossible, one of the dancers pulled the little boy from another’s arms. She smiled at him and bounced him off her waist. Just when the boy was about to yell with glee, she ripped him apart. The little boy was torn to shreds with her powerful arms. The little boy was not even given the chance to cry in pain.

The two dancers teaching the little girls turned on them. With a quick slash, one of the little girls dropped to the ground dead. Palance knew she was dead. Her head had come off in the dancer’s hand. With a roar she leapt on the nearest man and bit off half his neck. With the bleeding head in her hands, she pummeled the mother that had come to her baby’s rescue until she was a bloody stump.

Palance watched horrified. The people weren’t running. He wanted to help them. The people needed his help. As their prince, he was obligated to do something about it. He staggered forward. Tears came to his eyes and he brushed them away with a sleeve. He took another step.

Then a hand grabbed him. In the morning light, he whirled around to face his attacker. He didn’t see anyone. Must be my imagination, he thought, as he faced the bloody carnage below. Taking a deep breath to steady himself he took a couple of steps back and then ran as fast as he could. He knew he could reach them if he just jumped hard enough.

As his feet left the ground a body slammed into him. He cursed as he hit the floor hard. His shoulder throbbed. He forced himself to roll and throw the unseen body off. He found himself struggling against another unseen attacker. This one was trying to get to his sword! With a fist he struck whatever was on top of him and then he kicked wildly. Palance felt his foot strike something. The people below needed him!

Then the world flashed before his eyes.

Above him, as he lay flat on his back, he could see nothing but stars. His breathing was hard and haggard, and he had to struggle a bit to get to his feet. Larson sat flat on his butt several paces away from him stunned. Ian Dihn watched him warily as he rubbed his smooth jaw.

Father Rayul came to stand over him. He looked at Palance like a hawk would a rabbit. “My Prince,” he started. “Are you okay?” The priest pushed the Lord of Nomen back as he tried to get a better view of Palance.

Somewhere in the distance, Palance heard a yell. The people! He got to his feet groggily. What happened? Then he fell back again. Eliath came over to him and put a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“You have been mesmerized,” replied Father Rayul, his face softening. “Did you think it was daylight? I saw your eyes. They speak volumes when you are not aware. Your eyes darted from here to there, but there be nothing there. Forgive Ian and Larson. They did as they had to. You were about to jump off the roof. You would have plunged to your death. You would have died and suffered their fate.”

“I only wanted to... help,” he stammered. “They were getting slaughtered. Nobody was doing anything. They were all in danger. How come nobody did anything? Are they okay? Did I imagine the whole thing? Please tell me none of it was real. Please.”

Father Rayul nodded gravely. “I’m afraid it did happen.” The priest’s eyes looked beyond Palance. The prince knew the priest was looking at the scene. “It’s all over now. You have survived because we were here to stop you from jumping off the roof. That is their power. They will come into this world for as long as they can until they catch someone’s attention. Their power allows them to sense as soon as somebody is watching them. Once they know, they will draw their prey in by giving them a reason to get close. They change their surroundings. Everyone out there tonight saw something different. They saw what those creatures thought would make their prey feel more comfortable. They are able to seal this reality away from your mind. You didn’t see us when you were knocked down, did you?”

Palance nodded that he hadn’t.

“Once their prey is close enough, they snatch them. They kill whatever and whoever they ensnare. It is their purpose. Life means death for them.” Father Rayul looked at him thoughtfully. “You have had a close call. I pray you have learned your lesson?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Good, then I pray that it will never occur again.” The priest didn’t sound like he was admonishing the prince. “I have the Light to protect me. You are at the mercy of your mind. Be strong or you might never get back to Geamehn.”

Get back to Geamehn? The Lord of Nomen pulled Larson off the floor as Eliath helped the prince up.

This was all too confusing. When did things get so bad? Why had his father let this go on for so long? Could this really be happening to the rest of the Nations? Palance knew this was a dark world, but could it really be this dark? Even as Palance asked himself these questions, he already knew the answers. Nothing had been done about it because there wasn’t anything anybody could do.

“Come,” he said. “We have many things to talk about. It’s time you all knew.” He moved towards the glass door he had come out through. He didn’t turn to look at any of his friends. He didn’t turn to look at them because he knew his gaze would wonder over to where the bloody carnage had taken place. He didn’t want to see all the blood that would be soaking into the ground there.


To be continued...

Copyright © 2004 by Julian Lawler

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