A Warrior's Journey (9 page)

I had almost cleared a path to the
gatehouse. I had to get that gate open!

Another enemy soldier in front of me fell
away not by my saber’s strike, but from an arrow coming from his
own side. I sensed danger from behind and I wheeled to face it.

I felt the edge of a sword slice along my
jawbone where the back of my neck had been but a second before. I
sliced backward blindly with one saber and felt its impact with
something solid and turning completely I finished the soldier off
with my other sword.

The way to the gatehouse was open and I ran
stumbling over the bodies along the top of the wall. Once in the
gatehouse I laid my swords to the side and grabbed one of the
handles of the winch and began to heave with all my strength
against it.

The rusty iron gate began to rise slowly.
Suddenly there were more hands than just mine on the crankshaft and
the gate rose quickly. As the port callus rose higher I watched my
men stream through it screaming like banshees out for blood, into
the inner confines of the citadel.

The fighting for the citadel would soon be
over. I leaned against the crankshaft, as a sudden wiriness took me
over for a second. I opened my eyes to see the handles of my sabers
extended out to me by Velanas, a soldier I had been riding beside
throughout the patrol.

I took my sabers back and straightened
stiffly.

Another friend from the patrol spoke up,
“Where to now Sir?”

I looked past him to where the inner citadel
was already wreathed in flames.

“Wherever the Creator leads us.” I said
rather abstractly, as I headed back outside the gatehouse.

I saw a city in utter chaos around me from
my high vantage point. Most of the people had fled from the streets
into the buildings, but those wouldn’t be safe soon. As if on cue
with the flames spreading rapidly throughout the citadel heralded
by black smoke lifting into the night sky, the rest of the city
began to be put to the torch.

We needed to get out of here before we were
caught in fires of our own making. I made my way back down the
steep stairs followed by my men. How in the world had I gotten up
these stairs on a horse?

It was hard enough going down the stairs on
foot. A warrior held Relentless for me at the bottom of the stairs
and I was glad to see that he was alright.

Two warriors came dragging a man up between
them to me, “Sir we’ve caught the governor of the city. He was
trying to escape through a hidden passageway.”

I barely glanced at him as I said, “Throw
him back into the passageway and let him burn with his city.”

Before they could do as I requested they
were stopped by Talaric, who had come up unnoticed.

“Wait there! Zevin we can hold him for
ransom! They’ll pay dearly to get one of their governors back!”

I responded harshly, “Father said nothing
about taking hostages or bounty money! If gaining wealth had been
the goal of this mission do you not think we would not have sacked
the city before putting it to the torch?”

I abruptly turned from him and headed for
Relentless. The men holding the governor completed the task that I
had ordered.

As one the men who had come with me on this
wild ride followed me back out of the burning citadel into the city
now well taken with flame.

I headed for the temple grounds where my
father would be with his men, quickly outdistancing those setting
fire to the city all around us.

Roric was beginning to give up hope of
finding a way into the underground cult complex. His men had
searched over every inch of the expansive temple in search of an
entrance to the complex that his dying spy had said existed.

He wasn’t leaving until the job was
completed and his friends avenged. There was little point in coming
so far and risking so much, if he did not destroy the heart of this
new cult’s headquarters.

Under his breath he whispered, “Lord please
show me the way and enable me to destroy this pit of darkness that
infects the land with blasphemy.”

Almost instantly a ray of light curled off
the sword in his hand and twisted off through the air into the
temple. Roric followed the light ray stepping over the bodies of
temple priests, prostitutes and worshipers alike.

The ray of light split into four smaller
tendrils, which arced out to each surround a pillar which formed a
square of space in the center of the main temple hall. Roric stood
in the midst of the four pillars studying each pillar and the floor
around it.

There was a grooved pattern inscribed on the
floor and going to one massive pillar Roric began to push and
surprisingly the massive pillar shifted quite easily along the path
of one such groove. The same pattern was reflected on the ceiling
as well. Warriors standing around watching quickly worked at moving
the remaining three pillars along their paths. As the last pillar
moved into place there was an audible snap and the floor began to
move.

Sections of the floor collapsed in
repetitious order and soon a spiral staircase leading downward into
the darkness was visible. A horrible stench wafted up out of the
dark hole filling the heavily perfumed corridors of the temple with
the smell of rotting decay.

Warriors looked among each other in a silent
dread at having to go down into the darkness, but gamely
straightened to the task willing to follow their leader wherever he
led them.

Roric gestured them back from the stairway,
“Get out of here. Pull all of our forces from the temple
grounds.”

The warriors reluctantly started to move
back hesitant to leave their leader they loved to face the darkness
alone.

I turned to go with them, when my father
called my name, “Zevin.”

I turned back to him.

He had a strange look on his face as he
asked me, “Would you like to come with me?”

How did one answer such a question honestly?
I knew beyond a doubt that I wished to see nothing that the
darkness had in store for us beneath the floor, but I wanted to
make father proud and I certainly didn’t want him to face the
darkness alone.

He must have read the quandary of decision
going on inside of me, “Will you go with me son?”

I stepped forward instantly, inwardly proud
at my lack of hesitation to move even in the face of the fear that
I felt at the action.

Talaric stepped forward too, but before he
had taken a second step the sword in my father’s hand swung toward
him and colored light that seemed to express the anger my father
felt shot out and knocked Talaric backward against a pillar, “You
may not go!” Father spoke more roughly than I had ever heard him
before to any of his children.

Before a surprised Talaric could protest
father spoke on, “Your spirit is not right before God and your
actions are in defiance of me and what I taught you! You have
disobeyed my orders yet again and as a result you nearly got your
brother killed and almost caused us to fail in capturing the
citadel! Now because you by your own actions have shown yourself
unready for the war we are faced with, I am ordering you back for
your own good!”

Talaric his face tight with humiliation and
anger responded hotly, “Why have you suddenly decided to play
favorites with him? I’m the first born!”

Roric looked back at him sadly and
responded, “Yes you are the firstborn and you have received the
bulk of my attention because of it, but Zevin has made more of
himself with less attention and instruction than you have. He has
earned this moment while you have lost the privilege. Now go!”

Talaric stormed out of the temple, in as
black a mood, as I had ever seen him in. Father looked at me and
looked as if he was about to say something, but then thought better
of it and decided not to. That was alright, enough had been said
already.

Father turned towards the stairs and I moved
to follow. He stopped and turned to me once more, “Zevin remember
that the power of the Spirit of the Creator,” he tapped my chest
with a finger, “is greater than any darkness that we may find in
this pit understand me?”

I nodded.

“Do not allow yourself to be consumed with
fear Zevin! Our Creator does not give us the spirit of fear, but
rather of power and of a sound mind!”

He turned back to the stairs and together we
began to descend into the darkness. There were no lights, but the
light streaming off of father’s sword gave us the light needed to
see our way forward. As the darkness of the stairway became darker
the light cast off by the sword only brightened.

We reached the bottom of the stairway and
started down a narrow hallway that had an illuminated doorway at
the far end of it. The atmosphere of the place was oppressive and
closed in on us.

The doors opened under the force of some
unseen power. There was no one there and we walked on through the
doors. I jumped and spun around with my sabers raised as the doors
slammed shut behind us abruptly. There was the click of a lock
followed by a hollow sounding laugh that chilled me to the
bone.

Dark hallways opened up to us along either
side, but father kept traveling down the central hallway. Each
hallway entrance we passed seemed to hold some new dark horror
hidden within its depths.

The sound of someone sweeping the floor in
one hallway. The sound of something chewing on a bone noisily in
the next.

The worst was the sound of a little child’s
voice echoing eerily in some sing song chant down one hall. It went
on and on until my thoughts were echoing with the noise of it.

It was unnerving!

I was covered in sweat and the sound of my
own breathing sounded loud to my own ears. Despite the sweat I
felt, as cold as ice within the dark hallway and my skin crawled,
as if trying to tell me I was under assault from some unseen
force.

I got the message, but there was nothing to
be done other than to keep going on. I wished fervently with all my
heart that this was all just some horrible nightmare that I would
wake up from only to see white fluffy clouds drifting by
overhead.

Snap!

I blinked as I about walked into my father,
who had stopped and was facing me.

“Remember!” He said tapping my chest
firmly.

I regained control of my breathing some and
nodded. “How are you still so calm?” I asked desperate to have the
confidence that I saw in him to be my own.

Father’s eyes looked distant, as if he was
remembering something, “I’ve been through hell before in my life
and I’ve seen what my Creator can do to deliver me from it. Knowing
that gives me confidence.”

Feeling compelled but reluctant to ask I
blurted out, “How do you know that He will act on your behalf, when
you’re in places like this?”

“Because He promised never to forsake me.
I’m doing what I know He wants me to do, fight evil wherever I find
it. Whether I live or die I’m His. So what is left to fear?”

“How do I get more faith like you father?” I
asked needing the confidence that he radiated in the midst of the
torment of this place.

His hand fell onto my shoulder, “This is how
Zevin. All of what is happening is causing you to gain experience
in the way that the Creator is at work in your life and others.
Through experience comes faith and a strong faith in the Creator
can move mountains son!”

He gestured around us. “So what’s a few dark
spirits whimpering in the background matter? Instead of being
afraid of the noise they make think on this son, how afraid do you
think they are at seeing the presence of the living God, which
resides in you and me, come at them in the power of Divine purpose.
We are not down here to show how brave we are Zevin. We’re here to
do the Lord’s work and His Spirit is the authority by which we lift
our hand against all the power of darkness. You can trust the
Creator to deliver you even down here Zevin.”

“You wanted me to experience this so my
faith would grow?”

“Yes, but I would not have brought you if I
hadn’t thought you ready for the task or the lessons to be learned.
Be strong in your faith son, He will see you through. Now are we
good to go on?”

“After you.”

He smiled briefly and turned back around.
His hand reached back and I grabbed a hold of it grateful beyond
words for the confidence I felt through the touch. It was as
comforting as a child huddled within the safety of his mother’s
arms during a thunderstorm. I should know as I had often been that
child growing up.

It was a little ridiculous being like that
now though. I dropped father’s hand, but I missed its comfort. Time
to be a man and be like father.

Suddenly there was a pair of doors directly
in front of us. They had appeared out of nowhere. A dim light could
be seen radiating out from underneath them.

The big doors swung open creaking as they
did so. This time they were pulled open by someone I could actually
see though. The dark prophets stood to either side and allowed us
to pass through. We walked past them into a scene that should have
been reserved for hell alone and not anywhere on this world or any
other.

A large cavern like room opened up before us
lit partially by candle and torch light. The stench of despair was
heavy upon us, as we both looked upon the poor victims of this
cult’s unholy handiwork. People were lined all along the walls
fastened to it by iron chains.

Some still strong enough called out to us,
while others were too far gone or already dead, rotting in place.
Still others were strapped atop table like altars in varying stages
of torture. This was where father’s spies had been tortured.

Quarta had said that they had not broken to
the dark prophet’s requests of betrayal upon them, until after some
old potion had been used upon them. I was not sure that I could
ever be so strong as to resist the ways of such a horrible place
and not betray my own family.