The room he entered was small, dominated by a single round table with just enough room left between it and the walls to push back the chairs and be seated. There were three other men already there when Horace arrived.
"What message do you bring from the south?" asked one of them as Horace found the vacant seat.
"He is concerned about the children of Jacob. He wants them eliminated as quickly as possible."
"By us?" replied one of the others. "Wouldn't it be easier for those still in the jungle to do it?"
"They don't have the strength for it," answered Horace. "Don't make the mistake our predecessors did in failing to recognize their power. If they had had the foresight to understand what a threat they would become, they could have wiped them out before they had grown so strong. Unfortunately, their opportunity came during that period of blindness when our master was still too weak to communicate. By the time they once more had access to his wisdom, it was too late. It is now our task to correct their mistake."
"What, then, is his command for us?"
"He wants us to gather more men from the Republic."
"An army? With only us four on the council, it'll take time to convince the others to reestablish the military."
"Convincing them to create an army is not the problem. Controlling it once it's been created is. At present, we would not have the means to guide it to serve our master's will, and we dare not assemble such a powerful force so long as there is a possibility of it serving any other purpose than his. No, it'd be better for the Republic to remain without an army, at least until we have significantly strengthened our influence in the council. Instead, our master wishes us to encourage the state of Yailt to turn from the Republic and enter his service. That should provide more than enough men and they will be much easier to manipulate, for our hold on Yailt is already quite tight. He suggests that we use the recent drought as a catalyst. Currently everyone in the south is agreed that they must help the north, but I will use my voice on the council to begin planting some doubts in their minds. By the time the aid resolution passes, Yailt will be ready to break away."
"Very well. Was there anything else?"
"Yes. He wishes to be away from the jungle. He wants us to begin making preparations to bring him here."
The word that came to Nobi's mind as he scanned the villagers before him was "pathetic." They had not even been training for half an hour and already they ranged from gasping for air at best to lying on the ground unable to move at worst. As he urged them on to continue with the exercise, several of them made feeble efforts to swing the thick branches they held while the others just stared at him helplessly. It was no use. They were simply too weak, too slow, and too out of shape.
Despite his own difficulty in breathing and the gelatinous state of the muscles in his arms, Nobi tried his best to hide his pain and continue on. If they were poor students, he was an even poorer instructor. True, he had spent more time training with Jacob than had any of the others, but still he felt very unworthy of the responsibility. It would have taken years for Jacob even to have shown him a small fraction of what he knew, let alone the far longer amount of time before Nobi would have actually been able to assimilate it. Instead all they had been given was a couple months. His knowledge was so incomplete and skills so undeveloped. Why had they not chosen one of the more physically gifted members of the village? It would not have been a difficult task to have found someone who was both stronger as a fighter and more gifted as a teacher. Still, he had been selected to train the others and now he had no choice but to turn himself into an example for them.
Perhaps that was where Jacob's true value lay--not in the disjointed pieces of technical knowledge he had been able to pass on, but in the example he had been of what could be obtained. Before meeting him, Nobi would have never imagined that the human body could attain such levels of power and speed. He thought once more about the body of the dragon that had been found alongside Jacob's. What raw bestial might that monster must have possessed, and yet Jacob's small frame had been able to contain a strength that was capable of fighting it to a stalemate of mutual destruction.
There was the second motivation to press on with the training. He was not entirely sure that the dragon had in fact been destroyed. Perhaps it had merely transformed itself so that it could hide away while it healed from its wounds and wait for the day when it would spring forth from that egg as full of life and strength as it had ever been. Whether or not such a thing was possible, and how long it would be before it came to pass if it was, were both unknown to him. Nevertheless, they had to be prepared for it. Even if the dragon never rose again, its servants certainly lived on. They had not been seen by any of the villagers since he and Dinah had recovered Jacob's body, but it seemed almost inevitable that they would renew their attacks one day. Then there was the further consideration that if such evils had sprung up so suddenly once in their lives, who was to say that there were not other, more sinister powers waiting deep in the jungle for their time to strike?
Against all these the village had to be ready to defend itself, Nobi thought as he looked once more at the others feebly struggling to continue on with their exercises. How could they ever become equal to such a task? It was too late for Nobi. Even if he devoted the rest of his life to training, he would never achieve one tenth of what Jacob had. On the other hand, it might not be too late for some of the younger men. Their bodies were still developing and, if molded properly, still had the potential to grow into powerful weapons. His hope grew as he thought of their children, who would likely surpass them all if started early enough. The memory of Jacob would live on in them, passed on from generation to generation as they grew ever stronger as a people.
It was not as if he had broken into the capitol building. He had just failed to leave at the proper time. Now Fritz found himself alone in those dark hallways, free to pillage whatever he might be able to find, and this he hoped to include great riches. Everyone had heard of the many wondrous treasures that the Empire had possessed, but no one had seen them for many years. The founders of the Republic had made an effort to rid themselves of the lavish extravagances that had marked the previous government, but there had been rumors floating about the circles that Fritz frequented saying that not all of them had been gotten rid of. Those who were generally held to be knowledgeable about such things all agreed that they were stashed away somewhere deep in the old palace. That building, now a museum dedicated to recording the history of the continent, had been scoured by many aspiring entrepreneurs working after hours, none of whom had found anything of value. These persistent failures had not shaken the belief of most that there was still some secret chamber in the palace filled with the lost riches. Fritz, on the other hand, had turned his attention toward the capitol. He would have been the first to admit that the majority opinion was most likely the correct one, but still he felt that the capitol was the better place to search. He reasoned that even if the treasure was hidden away somewhere in the palace, the odds of him finding it before all the rest who sought it there were slim; whereas if it did happen to be in the capitol after all, he would have no competition. Besides, the outer hallways of the capitol were open to the public during daylight hours, which had made it an easy matter for him to enter, find some quiet corner to hide in, and wait until everyone had left.
Fritz headed straight for a hallway that had always struck him as being rather suspicious. During the many days he had spent watching the place, he had never seen anyone walk into or out of any of the several doors that lined it. He had never had the courage to try any of them when others were present, but now he was free to go where he pleased. His hope waned a bit as the first door he tried turned out to be unlocked. Certainly the riches he sought would have been protected better than that. Nevertheless, he proceeded into the room and his hope was restored as, even in what little light made it past the half-open door behind him, he could see that the floor was almost completely covered with crates. The first one he opened was a disappointment. All it contained were some old documents recording proceedings that did not even provide the consolation of being an interesting read. The next one showed a bit of promise as it contained some ceramic pieces marked with the seal of the Empire. They were worth little in themselves, but they were proof that this was indeed a storeroom for some of the lost Imperial artifacts.
Several crates later, Fritz was beginning to become discouraged. They all contained worthless objects and parchments similar to the first two. He was heading to the door to try another room when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Quickly he ducked behind a nearby stack of crates. He thought he heard the footsteps pass by the room he was in, but when he stuck his head up to see whether it was safe to come out, he found that there were now two other men in there with him. As fast as he could, he recoiled back behind the crates and tried to silence his heavy breathing. The seconds passed and nothing happened. Perhaps they had not noticed him in the dim light. He peered around again and saw that they were carrying something between them--a large chest of some kind--that they were taking to the back wall. After setting it down they pushed aside a pile of crates that had been stacked there.
"The key!" cried one of them. "I forgot to get it from Horace before coming here."
"Great!" answered the other. "We manage to bring this thing all the way back from the jungle only to be stopped here because you forgot the key."
"Calm down, it's nothing that can't be fixed. You wait here and I'll go get it. Won't take but a few minutes."
A moment later Fritz was left alone with the solitary guard. He shrank back into his hiding place, worried that without anyone to keep him company, the man would allow his eyes to begin wandering. Gradually, though, this fear gave way to boredom as the other man's promise of returning in a few minutes became increasingly broken. Fritz gathered the courage to peek around the crates again and saw that the guard had succumbed to boredom as well. He was opening up various crates and rummaging through their contents, stopping to read some of the documents he found with an impressive level of attentiveness. When this foraging for entertainment had taken him to the opposite side of the room from the chest that he and his companion had carried in, Fritz decided to find some excitement of his own. He began crawling toward the chest, always being careful to keep some of the crates between himself and the guard. When he reached his destination, he waited until the man seemed particularly engrossed by what he was reading and used the opportunity to crack open the lid. It was an egg--bigger than any he had seen before. Carefully he shut the chest again and crept back to his original hiding place. What sort of beasts lived in the jungle that might produce such a thing? More importantly, why had they brought it back to the capital?
These questions kept his mind occupied until at last the man returned with the key. The two of them then went once more to the back wall and disappeared through a door, carrying the chest with them. Fritz figured this would be an excellent time to end his adventure and return home.
"As expected, our master is not pleased that we allowed the army to be reestablished," said Horace as he entered the cramped room to join the three men already seated at the table.
"It wasn't our fault," interjected one of the others. "We tried it too soon--the council is not nearly as complacent as we had thought. We did well to get the vote as close as we did."
"Our problem was not our failure in the council," replied Horace. "We should have never let it come that far. Our mistake was in allowing news of the rebellion leak. The situation is not too critical, however, for they still do not even know of the existence of their true enemy. Neither have they discovered their only ally. As long as our enemies remain ignorant of each other, they should be easy enough to take care of. All we need to do is slow down our plans for a bit until their vigilance wanes once more. Then we can continue gathering and training our forces in secret. Once they are ready, it'll be a simple matter to march into the jungle and destroy the children of Jacob without anyone in the Republic either noticing or caring."
"Then our orders are simply to wait?"
"Not quite. Our master is worried that in order to fund their new army, the Republic might divert resources from areas that are important to us. In particular, he is concerned about the medical research initiative we worked so hard to establish. We must make sure that this program is not touched, for he is growing anxious and wishes us to continue exploring methods for accelerating the rejuvenation process."
"At the present rate, how much longer till he's recovered?"
"It's difficult to tell with a wound so severe. We don't want to risk reviving him while he's still too weak to defend himself, and for the time being at least, there is no need to do so."
"Why did you drag us all the way down here, Fritz? It's so hot."
"Well I didn't want to make the trip by myself. It wouldn't have been safe."
"I meant why did you bother coming at all?"
"Don't you have any sense of curiosity? Anyway, we're almost there now so there's not much use in complaining."
The fact was that Fritz was not even sure himself why he had wanted to go to the jungle. Something inexplicable had occurred when he had seen that egg, taking over his mind so that all he could think of for the next several weeks was visiting the place from which it had come. He had become so obsessed with working out the logistical details of the trip that he had never spared the thought to consider what he might find once he arrived. It was only now that this was beginning to feel like an exceedingly foolish thing to have undertaken. Presumably whatever had laid that egg still lived in the jungle. Not only did he now face the prospect of encountering some completely unknown, but very large, creature, but he had convinced two of his friends to face it with him. As he had said, though, after traveling so far there was no point in turning around now.
Then as they came to the top of one of the rolling hills, it came into view. The jungle seemed to stretch on endlessly before them with an untamed wildness that made all the structures of the civilized world suddenly seem very frail. The three friends looked toward each other for support, and then without saying a word, continued on. As they gradually drew nearer to it, each became aware of a presence that was intangible yet as concrete as the ground on which they stood. Bravado kept any of them from sharing this sensation with the others, but instead they showed only the fearless faces of those eager for danger and excitement. Thus encouraged by each other's facades, they pressed on until at last they had entered that unexplored wilderness.
The sounds of various animals filled the moist air, but nothing was to be seen except for the lush greenery of the plant-life. They were left to imagine the exotic birds, insects, and primates that must have been scurrying about beyond their view. Slowly they made their way through the thick tangle of vines and branches, being careful to disturb as little as possible as they did so. The thought that they were perhaps the first humans ever to walk along this way gave the jungle a sacred feel. Here was nature in its purest form, possessed of a beauty and intricacy that human architects and engineers could only hope to imitate with the palest of facsimiles. They were heathens trespassing on holy ground, fearful that the slightest indiscretion would be punished with a swift and terrible retribution.
Then they discovered that they were in fact not the first humans ever to visit this part of the jungle. This revelation was so unexpected that Fritz nearly tripped over the evidence as they came upon it. There was a young boy, somewhere from ten to twelve years in age, lying on the ground fast asleep. His only garments were a cloth about his waste and a bracelet of tarnished silver encircling his right wrist. He appeared to be suffering from malnutrition, for his ribs were clearly visible along his side.
"Where do you suppose he came from?" whispered one of Fritz's companions.
"I don't know," replied Fritz. "Maybe he wandered off from one of those villages we passed. Looks like he hasn't had much to eat in the last few weeks."
"He's dressed unlike anyone I've ever seen in the Republic," added the third explorer. "You don't suppose there are actually people who live in this jungle, do you?"
"If there are, then they don't take very good care of their children. Do you think we should try waking him?" asked Fritz as he knelt down beside the boy and gave his shoulder a gentle shake.
As soon as his hand had touched him, the boy simultaneously woke up and threw himself to his feet. His eyes flashed nervously at each of the strangers, then around behind himself, and finally down at his own body. After this initial examination, his sense of panic seemed to grow exponentially and he began slowly backing away, being careful not to take his eyes off the strangers.
"Don't be afraid," said Fritz. "We want to help you if we can."
He extended his open palm toward the boy and took a couple steps closer. The only reaction this produced was to send the boy leaping backward, the look of terror in his eyes continuing to grow.
Fritz persisted, "Are you lost? We've brought food if you're hungry."
Still he continued backing away.
"What do you think has him so scared of us?" asked one of Fritz's friends.
"I don't know," replied the other. "Maybe he thinks we're someone else who tried to hurt him before. He could have been kidnapped and abandoned here."
"Any suggestions as to what we should do?" asked the first.
"We can't just leave him here to die. That's for certain," answered Fritz. "You two sneak around the sides and we'll try to surround him. If we can get him out of this place, maybe he'll calm down."
As soon as the two men began maneuvering into position, the boy turned around and started to run. Fritz and his friends took off after him, but he negotiated his way through the underbrush with a skill far exceeding theirs, allowing him to keep ahead of them despite his shorter legs. Even protected by their clothes, their arms and legs were being stung all over by the sharp branches, making the men wonder how the boy's nearly naked body could survive the chase. Suddenly a hard obstruction set itself up in their path. They had only an instant to recognize a man clad in similar fashion to the boy blocking their way before they were all knocked out by a very heavy staff.
"Now you remember the rules, right son?"
"Yes dad," replied the boy, fidgeting with restless anticipation. "I have to spend two weeks away from the village without any help from anyone."
"And you mustn't return before the time is up."
"Yes dad, I know."
"Do you remember which fruits you can eat and which are poisonous?"
"Yes dad, I remember."
"All right son, now you be careful."
"I will. Goodbye," he said turning away and running out of the village into the jungle.
"Goodbye," called out his father after him.
He wished that he could share the enthusiasm with which his son set out on this venture. The boy was stronger and much more clever than he himself had been at his age, but still he could not help but worry about whether he was ready for the rigors ahead of him. Then again, every man in the village had endured the same rite of passage at his age, so why should he fear for his son? Plus he had an additional assurance of which he had been unaware when he had spent his two weeks in the jungle so many years ago--the fathers always followed their sons and watched over them unseen.
When he judged that his boy was far enough ahead, he set out after him. He smiled as he tracked the erratic path on which his son started, guided by pure exuberance rather than reason. Soon the trail became straighter and at last he was pleased to find his son setting to work building a makeshift shelter out of vines and branches. The rest of the afternoon he watched silently as the boy completed this project and then went off to gather food. In the end he had accumulated an amount that was less than what the father would have hoped for, but enough on which to survive. The next day passed just as smoothly and by the morning of the third the father had lost all his worries about his son's ability to survive on his own. It was not until the last day of his trial that he encountered real trouble.
The boy had just eaten his meager lunch and was napping peacefully on the ground--the weather being so nice that he had not bothered returning to his shelter. His father had hidden himself in a nearby tree with the intent of watching over him, but having become so relaxed by the ease with which the rest of those two weeks had passed, he had allowed himself to doze off in the heat of the afternoon. He was awoken by the sound of voices, and when he looked down to find their source, he saw his son being confronted by three men in strange dress. They must have come from the north, for he was unaware of anywhere else from which they could have come, but as far as he knew no one from there had entered the jungle for many generations.
He debated with himself whether or not to intervene. Interference with a trial was something that simply did not happen. Yet, visitors from the outside were equally unheard of. Besides, what was the point of trailing his son if not to help him if the situation became too dangerous? They were still close enough that he could reach them within a second if needed, and his son was unknowingly backing ever closer to him, so he decided to wait for the moment. Then the boy turned to run and the father saw something that suddenly made him realize how dangerous these men truly were. The boy's silver bracelet had become tarnished.
Now there was no question of whether or not to intercede. He was facing a situation that every member of their village prayed would not occur during their lifetimes. No one would be able to fault his son for not being able to confront it on his own. The father dropped to the ground and sprinted to place himself between his son and the pursuers. It was not until he was standing within a yard of them that he first wondered whether he himself would be capable of subduing these foes. A second later the question had been answered as the three strangers lay unconscious on the ground. They were certainly not warriors. This confused the father and he began to wonder whether he had overestimated the severity of the situation. No, he thought as he looked down at his own bracelet that had also become tarnished, this was a matter of grave importance that must immediately be brought before the rest of the village.
"Dad, you saved me!" came the voice of his son from behind him. After a moment he added, "What were you doing here?"
"That doesn't matter. The important thing is that you're safe."
"The silver, it..."
"I know. Come on, we need to get back to the others quickly and let them know what's happened."
Fritz awoke to find himself seated on the ground and tied to a tree at the edge of a clearing in the jungle. As his eyes darted about frantically searching for whatever information they could find, the first thing he noticed was his friends tied to trees on either side of him. They were still unconscious but otherwise appeared to be all right. With his concern for their safety at least partially alleviated, he was able to focus on the more urgent matter of the group of men standing in front of him. Their sparse clothing suggested that they were part of the same group as the boy and the man he had encountered in the jungle immediately before being brought here. Beyond them was a village of simple wooden huts with thatched roofs. So there were people who lived here, hidden away in the darkness far from the eyes of the Republic. Although perhaps they had been seen in some long forgotten time, memory of them surviving only in the form of horror stories for parents to tell their children. Fritz stopped his speculation as he realized that they were conversing amongst themselves and decided that the content of their discussions might prove valuable in his present situation.
"There is no doubt it has returned," said one. "The only question is what to do about it."
Another answered, "There is no doubt about that either. We must track it down and destroy it."
"But we don't even know where to look."
"We can make them tell us."
The speaker nodded in the direction of Fritz and his friends, directing everyone's attention toward the captives. It was not until then that they realized that one of them was now awake, and in their excitement they all rushed over to him.
"Where is it?" asked the one whose nod had gathered them.
Fritz just looked at them nervously for a moment before deciding that it would be in his best interest to reply, even if he did not understand the question that had been posed to him. "Where's what?"
"The dragon."
"I've never seen a dragon in my life! As far as I know, they don't even exist."
"He's lying!" shouted a voice from somewhere within the crowd.
Several other voices gave their approval of this assessment before a calmer one suggested, "Maybe it's still dormant. Ask him about the egg."
The first man snapped his head back around toward Fritz and snarled, "An egg then. Where's the egg?"
"Egg?"
Fritz's mind was racing now. There was something important about an egg that he had seen just recently, but terror was scattering his thoughts in random directions, not allowing them to track down that lost memory. His interrogator leaned his face closer to Fritz's, presumably with the intent of somehow forcing an answer out of him more quickly, but instead only exacerbating the poor man's amnesia. Then, as Fritz was having trouble even remembering the initial question, an image of a chest with its lid cracked open flashed into his mind.
"Yes, an egg!" he shouted in triumph. "In the capitol building in one of the old storerooms, two men had a chest with a giant egg in it."
"Where is this?"
"In the capital."
The man's increasingly stern expression indicated the he had better quickly provide more details.
"It's due north of here, in the pass that runs down the center of the great mountain range."
The man turned away from him sharply and the others all huddled around him, momentarily ignoring their captives. Fritz heard a number of phrases in various different voices, but he could no longer make out who was saying what.
"Then we must go to the capital."
"But we can't abandon the village. What if more of them travel down here."
"It's still dormant. It won't take all of us."
"Yes. Half will stay here and the other half will go."
"Come, let us prepare."
As soon as they had disappeared into their huts, Fritz began calling out to his friends as loudly as he felt he could without drawing the attention of the villagers. After a series of harsh whispers he managed to rouse them both.
"I'm not sure exactly. We're in a village somewhere in the jungle," said Fritz in response to the stream of questions they began asking as soon as they awoke. "They're all off getting ready now."
"Ready for what?"
Fritz's mouth opened and then froze as the color fled from his face.
"I think I may have just doomed the Republic."
The villagers remerged from their huts, with staves in their hands and their bodies covered in intricate patterns of black paint. It was not just this added decoration, but a change in their demeanor that made them appear to have ceased being human. Each set of eyes was focused off into the distance, as if they were already staring at the egg sitting in that chest so many hundreds of miles away. Without a glance in the prisoners' direction, they charged off northward into the jungle. Fritz and his friends peered into the darkness after them until they had completely disappeared into the trees. Then they turned their attention back toward the village to discover several of the men who had stayed behind standing before them.
"What are you going to do with us?" asked Fritz.
"You will stay here in this village. After they have returned, then you may go free."
It had been just three days since the hailstorm had come through, and already he was driving in the final nail of his repairs. The task had been a formidable one, with nearly twenty-five percent of the roofs requiring attention and no other carpenters in the town besides him to take on the job. Now, despite the fact that it was only a couple hours past noon, he felt he had earned the right to head home and sleep the rest of the day away.
Just as he reached the edge of the roof and was preparing to climb down the ladder he had left leaning there, he saw a man riding in from the fields at a full gallop. The horseman went straight to the bell tower at the center of town and began furiously ringing out the alarm. Hastily, the carpenter slid down the ladder and ran to join the crowd that was already assembling around him.
"I just saw some bandits, and they look like they're headed here," said the rider after it appeared that almost everyone had arrived.
"How many?" asked the carpenter.
"More than we can scare off with our rifles. There's not time to evacuate either. I think our only option is to lock ourselves in our homes and hope that they're content with taking whatever's left outside to take."
The man was right. They were not warriors, and standing up to such a large horde would only ensure that more people were killed than was necessary. Even as his fellow townsfolk were still discussing the matter with one another, the carpenter began picking his way through them back toward his house. Once inside, he quickly slammed the door shut and then dragged his workbench across it as reinforcement. Next he found his rifle and then sat down leaning his back against the workbench, as if the addition of his own weight might mean the difference in repelling the bandits.
His anxious wait lasted only a few minutes, and then the true assault on his nerves began. He could hear the pounding of footsteps drawing ever nearer until he was sure that they must be surrounding his house. Then a heavy thud from above caused him to jump, nearly discharging his rifle into the ceiling. A moment later he found himself being blinded by shower of sawdust and splintered shards of wood--they were coming in through the roof. Frantically he wiped his eyes clear with his sleeve as he helplessly listened to the intruders moving about the room. Then at last he saw them and was horrified.
These were not bandits. He was not even entirely convinced that these two creatures before him were human. It was difficult to discern whether the black designs covering their bodies were painted on or a natural coloration of their skin. What really made them seem inhuman, though, was how they completely ignored him as they went about their work. They were roughly overturning tables and rummaging through closets, apparently looking for something. However, what exactly it was they were attempting to find, he could not guess. It was not money, for they had already smashed into his safe and strewn its contents across the floor without taking a single coin. Whatever it was, he could not trust that they would continue to ignore him indefinitely. He raised his rifle slowly so as not to encourage them to look his way. Then he steadied his nervous hands as best he could and took aim. While his target continued on oblivious to his actions, he pulled the trigger.
He could not have missed. He was too close, and even if that creature had been paying attention, it could not possibly have reacted quickly enough to avoid the bullet. Yet, not only had it dodged his attack, but now it was charging toward the carpenter with incredible speed. He tried to raise his rifle in defense, but it was quickly knocked from his hands by the wooden staff that his aggressor carried. A second blow was driven into his sternum, sending him flying into the ground. The black demon was soon straddling him, its hands pinning his shoulders to the ground and its face only inches away from his own.
"Where's the egg?" it snarled at him.
"I...I don't know about any egg," he stammered back.
It lifted his shoulders about six inches into the air and then slammed his back into the ground.
"We know that it, or someone who has had contact with it, has been here. Where is it?"
He was too terrified to offer another answer. Its penetrating eyes stared at him a moment longer, and then it pushed itself to its feet. Its companion had already pulled the workbench from the door and soon they had both fled through it. There the carpenter lay as he waited for the pain in his manhandled body to ebb away. By the time he was able to stand, the sound of the invaders had died away to the north.
Cautiously, he rose to his feet and peered outside. He had been expecting to see his neighbor's house as battered as his own, but it appeared to be completely untouched. Intrigued, he stepped out into the streets and began wandering through them. There was another roof that had been torn through like his own. What bad luck, he thought to himself as he recognized it as one of those that he had recently repaired. Then he stopped and looked around himself. Was it just bad luck? Out of all the houses in sight, only the ones he had worked on in the past couple of days had been broken into. He began running through the streets, ignoring his fellow townsfolk who were now emerging from their houses, to see whether this pattern held up. There it was again. No, it could not be a coincidence. Why had they targeted only him and his work? What sort of curse had been laid upon him? So he continued through the entire town and found it indeed to be true. All of his work of the past three days had been undone and none of the other roofs had been touched. It was as if some malicious god had created those bizarre savages for the sole purpose of tormenting him. No wait, there was one exception. For some reason the grocer's house had also been attacked.
Immediately upon entering the town he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his bracelet had begun to tarnish. So he had come this way. This confirmed the part of the stranger's story of having come from due north, but how much further he could be trusted was still uncertain. Regardless of how ignorant or incompetent he might have seemed, the presence of him and his two companions had caused any nearby silver to lose its luster, and that could only mean that they had been in contact with the dragon. Such men could not be trusted. Indeed, if their purpose in entering the jungle had been an innocent one then why had he caught them attacking his son?
So the army continued pouring through the town, ever focused on reaching the capital as quickly as possible, and yet always remaining aware of their surroundings. The dragon's presence was in this place, which meant that they must not allow themselves to relax their guard too much. For all they knew it was lurking there itself, most likely still dormant, but nevertheless dangerous. They would not let it catch them unaware.
Suddenly his bracelet turned completely brown. There was a very strong presence in this house immediately to his left. Half leaping and half climbing, he flew up the stone wall and landed hard on the wooden roof. Once there, he and the companion who had followed to lend support immediately tore through the fragile planks with their stout staves. Inside they were met only by a single occupant who was flailing about harmlessly trying to clear the debris from his eyes. He wielded a strange staff in his right hand that might have been some sort of weapon, but the panicked and clumsy way in which he was carrying on made him seem to be little threat. It would be best to leave him alone for the moment and get started with the search--as of yet they had no proof that his involvement in this ordeal had not been forced.
Every desk, ever closet, and every container had to be searched to make sure that they did not miss it. If the egg was there, they would find it. Just as he was finishing up his part of the search, he noticed the man slowly raising his strange staff and pointing it toward him. With a loud bang, a small projectile was sent flying toward him with tremendous speed. With such a weapon, even a weak fellow such as this might prove to be quite formidable. Still, as fast as that projectile was, it was not fast enough. He easily avoided it and then threw himself at the man who had fired at him. First he knocked the weapon out of his hands and then drove him to the ground. Once he had him safely pinned down, he began his interrogation.
"Where's the egg?"
"I...I don't know about any egg," the man stammered back.
He had to be lying. Surely such a strange weapon could only have come from the dragon. He lifted the man's shoulders and then thrust him hard back into the ground.
"We know that it, or someone who has had contact with it, has been here. Where is it?"
The man stared back at him with such a look of bewildered terror that he could not help but pity him. Perhaps he was telling the truth. Regardless, they had finished their search of this house and it was not here. They could not waste any more time with this man. He leaped up and slipped out the door with his partner to rejoin the rest of the group in their charge north.
"Come on Fritz, we need to stop for the day."
"But it's only just past noon. How can we stop now?"
"Our packs are nearly empty."
"A lighter load should just make the going easier."
"Empty packs soon mean empty stomachs. Besides, you're out-voted two to one. There's a town over there that's scarcely out of our way."
"Fine, we can stop. But we'll be on the road again shortly."
It was a small town, with stone-walled houses crowned by roofs of tightly-fitted wooden slats. There were several people milling about the streets at that time, but none of them bothered greeting the strangers. Fritz looked about and picked out the friendliest face he could find.
"Hello there. We're travelers and we're running low on food. Is there someplace here where we could replenish our supplies?"
"Yes, the grocer's house is just down the street there. One with the weathervane on the roof. You can't miss it."
"Thank you."
They soon found the house as described and knocked on the door. It was opened by a tall and very thin man--quite the opposite physique from what one might expect of a man who dealt with food for a living. After Fritz explained their situation to him, he led them to a side room that was filled with all sorts of foods: dried meats, cheeses, breads and fruits.
"So what brings you out to this area? I dare say, there's not much out here."
"We're explorers headed south."
"South? What's there to see down there? Nothing but small towns, farms, and miles of open country. Go too far and you'll end up in the jungle," the man said, punctuating this last statement with a short laugh.
Too embarrassed to reveal that the jungle was in fact their destination, Fritz decided to change the subject. "This is fine craftsmanship on these tables. Did you make them yourself?"
"Me? No. Not very handy at woodwork myself. These were made by the town carpenter. If you like them you should go to his place and see some of his other work. I guarantee you've never seen anything so fine."
"I don't think so. We're really in a bit of a hurry."
One of Fritz's friends interrupted, "But the rest will do us good. We'll be able to go on at twice the pace afterwards, I promise."
"I agree," added the other.
Fritz forced a smile and said to the grocer, "I guess we will be visiting the carpenter after all. Could you show us the way once we're done here?"
When they had filled their packs and paid for their purchases, they were taken to another building on the far end of town. They stopped before knocking on the door to admire the intricate carvings etched into it. They depicted a scene of small mythical people engaging in some sort of celebration with much food and dancing. The level of detail was quite impressive, and now even Fritz was beginning to look forward to seeing what other masterpieces its creator had made. They were admitted into a room with several tables, each completely covered with wooden knick-knacks. Many hours could have been spent simply admiring the craftsmanship of the tables and chairs, ignoring the wonders displayed upon them. Fritz, however, did not wish to delay the journey by many hours, so he turned his attention directly to one of the wooden statuettes on the nearest table. It was the perfect likeness of a dog, so finely carved that it almost felt furry. Next he looked at one of a cat that had lain next to it and seemed to be of even greater quality. How much time, he thought as he searched through the other contents of the table, must have been spent in crafting them? It was over an hour later when he finally started becoming anxious about their delay and decided that preparations for departure needed to be begun.
"Come on," he called to his friends, who had likewise been busy sifting through the trinkets on the other tables, "we really should be going now."
"But why not spend the night here? The rest on proper beds would do us good."
"No, there's still plenty of daylight left. Besides, it looks like it's going to be a fine night for sleeping under the stars."
"Oh, all right. But the next time we come to a town, we're finding an inn and sleeping there."
"Fine with me." Then Fritz turned to the carpenter and shook his hand saying, "Thank you so much for your hospitality and letting us enjoy some of your work."
"Not at all," replied the carpenter. "Besides, they say it's good luck to welcome travelers into your home."
"Well, I hope that saying might prove true and that our stop here will bring you plenty of good fortune."
With that, Fritz and his friends were out the door and continuing on their way south.
Horace walked slowly down the spiraling stairs, the torch in his hand providing the only light by which to see. These led to the deepest room in the capitol, at least that he knew of. He and his confederates had discovered many secret chambers in that building that they now used for their private work, so who was to say that there were not still others that had escaped their detection? When he reached the door at the bottom, he unlocked it with a key that only the innermost circle of their group possessed. The room to which it led was fairly large, but the clutter with which it was filled along with the lack of openings to the sunlight gave it a claustrophobic feel. Horace wondered how the man working diligently in the corner could tolerate it. He never left, having one of his assistants bring his meals or whatever other items he might require from the world above. The other mystery about him was how he ever found anything in the mess that covered every square inch of the tables and floors. There were flasks containing strangely colored chemicals, clippings from various herbs, and chunks of rare minerals heaped together in piles according to no discernible pattern. If it became known to the public how carelessly these precious commodities that had cost the Republic so much were being treated, it would certainly cause a revolt. Of course, only Horace and his compatriots even knew of the existence of this project, and as long as their master was satisfied with the efforts being made to speed his recovery, they were not going to complain about the doctor's methods.
Whether or not the doctor had noticed Horace's entrance, he did not look up from his work to offer any sort of greeting. Horace likewise failed to acknowledge him and walked directly to the only uncluttered table in the room. Its sole occupant was the purpose for everything in that chamber--in a simple wooden box sat an abnormally large egg.
Horace knelt down before it and said, "Master, somehow they have discovered where you are. They have left the jungle and are headed toward the capital."
A serpentine voice emanated from the egg saying, "So they have taken the offensive while our army in Yailt was too busy hiding from the Republic to notice them. Not that it would have mattered--at least another year would have been needed to ready them for such a battle. The rest of the council does not know who these children of Jacob are or what their purpose is, do they?"
"No master. They simply think they are savages intent on destroying the capital."
"Good. Then perhaps this new development will work to our advantage. Rather than building an army of our own to hunt them down, we can let the Republic use their soldiers to engage them. We have not had the opportunity to train them properly, but perhaps the quantity of men at our disposal will make up for their lack of skill. Have the entire army of the Republic brought before the southern gate of the city and set up their defenses there."
"Yes master. We will not fail in turning them away."
"Perhaps, but it is likely that every one of the Republic's soldiers will be killed and those savages will succeed in breeching the capital. Either way I am losing an enemy. The important thing is that you delay them, for every day I am growing in strength. If they manage to reach me, then I shall rise up and destroy them myself."
After her fifth day of riding, the lower half of Kathryn's body was becoming exceedingly sore. The success with which her journey had met so far did much to take her mind off the pain, but she would still be grateful when she reached the next farm. It had been difficult convincing her father that she would be all right going out for such a long time on her own. By the end of the argument she had almost been convinced to wait until a less busy season when one of her brothers would be able to ride out with her, but that would have meant delaying the start of her schooling for another year. Now she knew that she had made the right decision and reflected on how proud her father would be after the successful completion of her trip.
The sun was setting and the trees that dotted the landscape had been transformed into dark, colorless silhouettes. There was a funny one up ahead. It was shorter than the others and had no branches. Strangely, it also seemed to be directly in her path. As she drew closer she realized that it was not a short tree, but rather a tall man. An enormous sword hung from his back, but somehow she felt reassured that he was not a bandit and that he would not try to harm her.
"Greetings, destroyer of the Empire," said the man.
Kathryn pulled up her horse within a yard of the man and asked, "Why do you call me that?"
"It's what you're planning to do, is it not? That's why you've ridden out on this journey of yours."
"Who told you that?"
"Does it matter? It's true, isn't it?"
"No, I'm out here trying to raise money from the farmers in this state so that I can enroll in the Imperial school. I want to serve on the council one day."
"That's true as well, but we both know your ultimate goal. Don't worry, I'm not a soldier or some sort of spy for the Empire. You don't think they'd be in the habit of sending out people to spy on little girls, do you?"
"No, I suppose not. But who are you then?"
"I'm here to encourage you. In order to gain the political power you need to see the fulfillment of your dream, you will need to burry your plans deep within so that no one will suspect that you harbor such thoughts. I am here to warn you against becoming so fearful that you burry them too deep to be recovered. You will be successful."
Before Kathryn could think of anything to say in response to these mysterious words, the stranger turned and began walking away. Kathryn sat there in confused contemplation for some time before she realized that she had more questions for him and spurred her horse to catch up.
"Wait, wait!" she cried as she pulled up alongside him and slowed her horse to match his speed. "You never told me who you were."
"I am the one who reminded you not to forget your purpose. That is all you need to know of me. Now you'd better stop following me and get along to that next farm."
Kathryn stopped her horse and let him walk away. She watched until she could no longer see him before turning her horse back along its original course and galloping off.
After she had finished addressing the crowd, Kathryn turned back toward the other councilors seated on the balcony. Seventeen of them met her with approving smiles, while the others exhibited a range of different reactions. Some immediately began interrogating their neighbors as to what was happening. Others stood up and began shouting protests at Kathryn. Many, however, just sat there dumbly, wondering whether they had actually heard what they thought they had heard. Moments later the chaos was abruptly transformed into silence as a unit of soldiers emerged onto the balcony.
"Everything all right Kathryn?" asked one of them.
"Where's Jorim?" she replied, not seeing the man who was supposed to have been leading those men.
"He said he had something to take care of so he left me in charge. Seems like everything is under control here. I'm going to take half my men up to secure the emperor, if you'd like to come with us."
Kathryn answered by walking over to the soldier who then led her to the staircase. Half of the unit followed them up to the emperor's box while the others stayed with the councilors to maintain order amongst them. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, they found that the emperor's two guards had already laid down their weapons and were standing there looking rather nervous. For his part, the emperor had stepped in front of them and was facing his would-be captors with an expression of total serenity.
The soldier who was leading the unit stepped toward him and said, "Please come with us peacefully. It'd be better if you didn't try to resist."
The emperor smiled as if being reminded of some private joke, and yet a definite trace of melancholy still lingered in his eyes.
"I figured that out many years ago," he said and walked toward the soldier with his upturned palms extended in surrender.
The soldier grabbed him by the wrist and ordered four of his men to arrest the guards. Kathryn watched as they led the prisoners away, deciding to stay on the balcony a few more minutes by herself. She walked to its railing and looked out over the crowds. Pockets of people had begun celebrating with wild cheering and dancing, while others stood there as if nothing had happened. She wondered whether either group really understood what had just occurred. Then her eyes ran along the main street that was still filled with soldiers from the parade. Their joy at the change in government brought her much greater satisfaction than did that of the crowds beyond them, for it came from understanding. Also, practically speaking, if a counter revolt was to be launched, it would have come from among their ranks, but fortunately there seemed to be only celebration there. Wait, there was a small skirmish down the road a ways. It appeared to involve only a handful of dissenters and looked as if it had nearly been put down already. Once it had been completely quelled she turned back toward the stairs and jumped as she saw a man there watching her. She had seen him only once before, many years ago, but still she recognized him. That giant sword was unforgettable.
"Hello again," she said.
"I have a task for you. There is a book in the Imperial library that I need you to fetch and bring back here to me. It was a gift I gave the first emperor centuries ago, but you won't be needing it anymore."
The sun had set over an hour ago, but Ira was determined not to stop until he had reached the city of Og. It lay not far from the border of his own kingdom and was renowned for the extraordinary skill of its metal workers. Ira was riding there with the hope of convincing them to join his kingdom so that he might acquire freer access to their talents. They were an independent city and would have been easy to take by force using the collective power of the armies under his command, but Ira respected genius and wished to deal with them generously. The wealth he would pump into their city if they accepted his proposal would make them by far the richest in his realm.
There were lights on the road approaching him. This region was known to be inhabited by bandits so that most honest travelers chose to keep off the roads once darkness had set in. Ira, however, did not wish to live in a world where one had to be afraid to travel at night, so he did not. This seemed to be a very obtainable goal, for either it was in fact a world in which he need not fear, or else he would soon not be living in it. In either case he would have his way. The torches were now close enough that he could see that they were being held by two men on horseback. They kept to either side of the road so that Ira would be forced to pass between them, making him almost certain that they were indeed bandits. Still he continued riding on, directing his horse to change neither its pace nor its course. As they at last came up beside him, Ira noticed them both reach towards their belts where their swords were hung. That was enough to condemn them. Ira drew his own sword and cut them both down before either of their blades was more than half way out of its sheath. Power was freedom from fear.
Within the hour he had arrived at Og and found a room in an inn. First thing in the morning he sought out its leaders and made his offer. In addition to being given trading rights with the other cities in the kingdom, which alone would have brought them a sizeable income, they were also to receive a percentage of the annual taxes. This arrangement pleased the leaders of Og very much, and the deal was quickly agreed upon so that Ira was back on the road before noon.
The success of this transaction made Ira quite happy, putting him in a good mood for the next several weeks. It seemed to him that everyone involved had benefited from it until one day some of his subjects came to see him in his palace.
"My lord, Ira. We are loyal subjects of yours who humbly seek your generosity to help us in a time of grave need. The men of Og have formed an army and confiscated our land. Without it, we have nothing and our families are starving. Please help us to reclaim it."
"That land is rightfully yours. Therefore I grant you permission to rise up against them and drive them off your property."
"Ourselves?"
"Yes. Who else?"
"But my lord, they outnumber us. Besides, we are only poor farmers with nothing but sticks and stones with which to arm ourselves. They possess some of the finest weaponry and armor in the land. We need your help."
"You have my blessing and my word that I won't hinder you. That is enough."
"But..."
"Good day."
"Yes my lord. Thank you."
The farmers brought the king's decision back to the rest of their people, and for the next two days they debated what should be done. Some wanted to send a second delegation to seek the king's aid, but those from the first argued that he would not change his ruling in their favor and, in fact, might take back even his verbal support out of annoyance. There was also a contingent that wanted to do as the king had said and take up arms against the people of Og. They were made up primarily of the younger folk and were quickly overruled by the cooler, wiser heads of their elders. Another suggestion that gained considerable favor was to find some new, unclaimed territory in which to restart their farms. It was pointed out that they had little money and no seed with which to undertake this endeavor, so it seemed almost certain to fail. In the end, though, it was conceded that despite the hopelessness of this latter course, they lacked the power to choose any other. The next day they sent out scouts, who returned a fortnight later having found some rather promising land. Within a month they had relocated and by the end of their first year on their new farms they were harvesting crops. It had been a year of sacrifice--selling everything not absolutely essential to survival, spending the days in torturous labor, and spending the nights in fitful sleep due to their empty stomachs--but they had done it.
A week after the people had removed their crops from the land, the men of Og came and once more removed the people from their land.
This was too much for even the coolest heads among them. If they could produce fields full of crops starting with nothing, then they could produce an army of fierce warriors out of the same. So everyone who was capable of walking--man, woman, and child alike--assembled carrying anything they could find that might possibly be mistaken for a weapon. They were so enraged by the injustice done to them that any one of them would have gladly assaulted the most heavily fortified of garrisons with nothing more than a feather in his hand. Thus roused, they set out to reclaim their land from the men of Og.
In their rage they thought nothing of stealth, but marched out in the middle of the afternoon across open fields to reach the land that had been theirs. The men of Og saw their heedless approach and laughed. Only half their men bothered arming themselves to prepare for the defense while the others merely looked on in amusement. As the farmers drew nearer, jeers and taunts could be heard coming up from the ranks of Og that were not silenced until the very moment when the two armies finally engaged each other. The farmers surged forward with savage ferocity, their raw emotion being forced to serve where numbers, skill, and equipment all failed them. The lines of the army of Og gave way before them, its men not expecting such a brutal assault. Encouraged by this initial success, the farmers continued pressing their attack even harder. Their foes kept falling away until the path in front of the farmers had been cleared; and then a cry came from the rear. In their eagerness the inexperienced farmers had allowed themselves to become flanked on three sides. From behind, from the left, and from the right the men of Og now fell on them, destroying any sense of order among the farmers. Panic set in, and after that it took less then a quarter of an hour for the farmers to be completely routed.
Jacob had just started his descent down the southern slope of the mountain when he saw something through the swirling snow. It looked almost human in shape, but it kept perfectly still, not yielding in the slightest to even the most violent gusts of wind. As he approached it, Jacob realized that, despite the fact that no one lived in these mountains, it was a man that he had seen. He was tall and sorely underdressed for the weather, clothed in only a simple tunic. Neither did he have any supplies with him, but only a large sword strapped to his back.
"Hello," said the man before Jacob could think of a sensible greeting for such an odd meeting. "What brings you up here?"
"Why do you want to know?" replied Jacob.
"Well it's not as if this place sees many visitors. The odds of two people being up here at the same time are unthinkably small--let alone the odds of those two people bumping into one another."
"I'm fleeing the capital. It's been overrun by rebels."
"So rather than dying at the hands of men you decided to throw yourself upon the mercy of nature."
"No. I'm not afraid of those rebels."
"Then why did you run?"
"Because there's nothing there to fight for any more."
"What do you mean? Surely there's something left there for you."
"No. The Empire has...it just disappeared. Everyone simply abandoned the principles for which it stood. There's no bringing it back now."
"I'm glad to hear my plan went so smoothly."
"You?" said Jacob, his weary body suddenly reinvigorated by a surge of rage. "Are you saying that what happened down there was your fault?"
"Perhaps I can't take all the credit, but I was the one who laid out the basic plans for the revolution."
Jacob lunged at the man, but lost his footing and fell to the ground as his target deftly side-stepped his attack. Pushing himself back to his feet, Jacob made another attempt and met with a similar result. He was letting himself become too angry, which was making his movements sloppy. Skill rather than brute force would be needed against this foe. This time he began circling his opponent trying to look for some opening to exploit, but all he saw was openings. The man simply stood there, not even turning his head to follow Jacob's movements. As Jacob came around behind him, he prepared to charge into the man's unprotected back, but then was held back by a sudden impulse of guilt. He could blame the failure of his first two attacks on the weather, but in reality he knew that he was facing a superior fighter, and even attacking from such an advantageous position he would still not be able to best him. He was outmatched, and to continue fighting would just be admitting his own ignorance. Jacob continued circling around until he and the man once more stood face to face.
"You have no idea what you did," said Jacob, struggling unsuccessfully to keep his voice from trembling. "If you had any understanding of what the Empire meant to this continent then you would have never plotted against it."
"And you do understand what the Empire meant, I suppose?"
"Yes. It meant unity and equality. It meant a fair chance for everyone to have what he needed to survive. It meant order, stability, and peace."
"Those are certainly some of the reasons I founded it, but I can assure you that they're not the only ones. I wouldn't even say that they were the most important. Fortunate side effects, perhaps."
"You? Are you trying to tell me that you're Abar I? Why you'd have to be some four hundred and fifty years old!"
A burst of laughter that the man had been trying to hold back for some time now finally squeezed its way free through his lips. "If I were Abar I, then I would indeed be over four hundred and fifty years old, but of course that is absurd. I'm far older than that."
"Do you expect me to believe that?"
"It doesn't really matter to me one way or the other. But for the sake of knowing how to proceed with our little conversation, do you?"
Jacob hesitated and then admitted reluctantly, "Yes."
"Then you can hardly fault me for taking away what I gave to you in the first place."
"No...no..." Jacob stammered, feeling that there was a flaw to this logic but not quite sure where to find it. "Whatever good you may have done in the past doesn't justify the evil you've brought forth now. Even if you did give us the gift of the Empire as you claim, once you gave it you lost your right to take it back. A gift isn't a gift if it can be recalled at any moment."
"Who said it was a gift?"
"If it wasn't, then what was your purpose? To build us up in a false sense of hope and then tear it all away just to show us new levels of despair? To show us how great you are because of your power to manipulate us? To make yourself feel better by showing how pathetic everyone else is? If those are your motives, then I don't care how powerful you are, you are truly pathetic. Go ahead and prove how much better you are than me by striking me down now. We both know you're capable of it, and after having taken away any reasons I might have for wanting to live, you might as well just go ahead and finish me off."
"No. I still have a task for you to do."
"Of all the reasons you've given me to think that you're crazy, that one just bested them all. Please explain to me how you could possibly expect me to do anything for you after what you've done to me?"
"If you knew the purpose behind it, you'd be begging me for the privilege of helping."
"Then what is the purpose?"
"I don't think that I'm going to tell you."
"Until you do, I'm not going to do whatever it is that you want me to."
"But I haven't even told you what it is yet."
"It doesn't matter. I refuse to do anything for you until I know why."
"No, you don't understand. I meant that since you don't know what it is that I want you to do, how can you avoid doing it?" He waited for Jacob to respond, but when he saw that no answer was forthcoming he added, "I think this conversation has lasted long enough. Goodbye."
Jacob wanted to grab the man as he walked away. He wanted to wrestle him to the ground and hold him there until his questions had been answered, but he knew he was powerless to do so. Instead, he simply watched as the man disappeared into the flurry of snow sweeping through the air. Then he continued making his way down the mountain to the world below.
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