The Marenon Chronicles Collection

Chapter Three





Silas Ainsley’s grandfather was dead and he knew it was only a matter of time before he would be killed too. Marcus and Theron had taken Garland's body away several hours after he had died. Marcus had questioned Silas for hours, often times hitting him and slapping him. Once or twice, Silas offered a lie leading the men on a wild goose chase to find the medallion. They told him that if he did it again that they would end his life. They gave him twelve hours in the dark to think about it.

Silas tried to imagine what his captors did over the course of two days, but it was difficult to see in the dimly lit room and they rarely walked by. Trying to listen in on their conversations was no good either because the door muffled their sounds. Silas was so exhausted that he was starting to hear noises that weren’t even there.

It had been two days since his capture and in that time he had not been fed, and water had been given to him only once. He was weak and without hope. He began to think that the help his grandfather had promised was a figment of his imagination or just words of a dying man who had lost his grip on reality. Marcus and Theron would eventually decide to kill Silas and that would be the end of it.

One night, or morning, Silas didn’t know which, it was Theron’s turn to question him about the medallion. On orders from Garland, Silas pretended to know nothing about it. Theron said it was a powerful tool and that he needed it. After a few slaps to the face and a threat of longer time in the room without food or water, he was gone. Silas expected him to return, but he did not.

The ropes dug deep into his wrists and he wished he could at least try to escape, but there was no use. He would be dead before he made it through the door. He tried to reconstruct the path he took when the men dragged him and his grandfather to the room. It was a long passageway, and it went through several levels. The fact that he passed out several times along the way didn’t help the reconstruction either. There was no way to remember. He knew it began on a mountainside and tunneled downward. Old gold mines littered these parts of the mountains. Now, two goons used one of them as a hideout to keep their hostage. Probably as good a place as any, Silas thought. He wondered what was here that his grandfather had been trying to reach.

Sleep was scarce and when he did, he was plagued with nightmares. Silas ultimately came to the conclusion that if they were going to kill him then they should just do it. What was the use keeping him here? As he lay contemplating his fate, he was jerked from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps nearing his door. The faint glow of a torch grew into a bright flickering under the door as the bearer came closer. The door swung open and Silas had to shut his eyes to keep from being blinded.

“It’s time,” the gruff voice spoke. It was Theron.

Roughly, Theron grabbed Silas by the neckline of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. The dim light in the corridor was blinding to Silas’ dilated pupils. He had to force himself to keep his eyes open to study his surroundings in case he found a chance to escape.

After Theron cut the rope around his legs, they walked down the tunnel that led from his tiny room. Eventually they came to a much larger area at the mouth of the cave where the stone danced with a red and orange glow from the torches lining the wall. The ominous blue light of the moon revealed the cliff’s edge outside of the cave with a figure standing near it.

Marcus. He wore his sword on his side, but kept his hands behind his back as he watched Silas walk along willingly with Theron.

“You can let him go,” Marcus said. He stared at the boy and shook his head. “Silas, Silas, Silas.”

Silas did not acknowledge him.

“As I have explained to you before, we need that medallion. It has a greater value than you can possibly know. If you lie to me again, I will kill you. If you refuse to speak, I will kill you.” He paused. “If you tell me where it is, and you are true to your word, you will be left here to fend for yourself. If you survive, fine, I don’t care. It doesn't matter to me.”

Silas smiled weakly. “If I knew, I would have given it to you when you brought me here in the first place. But I don’t.”

Marcus lifted up a hand. “Stop talking.” He walked to Silas and grabbed his neck and forced him to walk further into the moonlight. He took him to the edge of the cliff and shoved Silas to his knees.

The moon shed its light onto the entire landscape. It was beautiful, yet eerie as it illuminated the 500-foot drop Silas would encounter should he slip. Or be pushed.

“I’m going to give you one last chance to tell me where it is,” Marcus said as he slid the sword from its sheath. The sound sent an electric shock to Silas’ heart. He was about to die. “If you don’t tell me, I will cut your throat and your body will fall down the mountain. But if you do, I’ll leave you out here in the wilderness alone. Either way, you will never hear from us again.”

Silas didn’t believe it for a moment. If he told them the location of the medallion he would be at the bottom of the cliff before he knew what happened to him. But if he refused he would be there too. Telling them the truth, however, might buy him an hour more. It was worth a try. A certain peace came to his mind as the mountain’s night wind shuffled his blonde, shaggy hair. He almost didn't mind dying in such a wonderful, tranquil landscape. For a moment, he was alone with nature, but he was pulled from his thoughts by the sudden cold press of steel against his throat. Silas closed his eyes, ready to accept the fate that was about to present itself.

“It's in the truck.”

“What?”

“The medallion. My grandfather left it in the truck before we sent it over the cliff.” He sighed loudly. If his 'protector' wasn't coming then this was his only chance. He was out of time. “You will find it there.”

“You lie, I looked in the truck,” Theron said, stepping forward.

“Well, look again,” Silas said. “There’s a secret compartment behind the passenger seat.”

“Mr. Ainsley, I've grown tired of your deception,” Marcus said. “Whether you are telling the truth or not, I'm tired of you.”

Theron moved closer. “Marcus, what are you doing?”

“Shut up,” Marcus said.

“It's really there,” said Silas frantically. Even in his physical state of weakness, he felt adrenaline pulse through his veins. “You told me you would let me go.”

“I'm through with you, Ainsley.”

“Marcus! Stop!”

“He’ll be no use to us!” Marcus yelled, facing Theron.

“We’re supposed to keep him alive!”

Marcus shook his head and turned back to Silas. “Let Judoc take care of him.”

Silas closed his eyes as Marcus reared back to slice through his neck, but the swipe never came. Silas’ eyes flew open at the sound of Marcus screaming in horror as an arrow tore through his shoulder. The whistle from the arrow shot seemed to chase the impact. Silas instantly dropped flat to the ground as he heard more shots through the air. Theron was hit in the knee, bringing him to the ground. He pulled out his sword ready for a fight, but another arrow soared into his chest, ending his life on Earth.

Whoever was doing this was helping Silas tremendously, but perhaps they were not a friend at all. Could this be the protector? Silas began to crawl with his bound wrists away from the cave and down the path as Marcus continued to scream out in pain. Another arrow ended his cries as it struck him through the neck.

Seeing a chance to flee, Silas pulled himself off the ground to run, but before he was able to take two strides, an arrow landed only inches in front of him. He froze in place, knowing if he took another step the next arrow would not miss. The commotion from behind him had stopped; Marcus and Theron were dead. Silas stood with his tied hands in the air feeling stupid and even more vulnerable than when Marcus had a sword to his neck. He shuffled around on his feet, trying to see his attacker, or savior, he wasn’t sure which. He looked into the trees surrounding the cave and the path. The woods were too dark for him to see much more than rustling leaves.

He looked from one direction to the other. When he turned once more to the cave, a dark silhouette met him with a drawn arrow inches from his forehead.

“If you so much as flinch I won’t hesitate to let this go,” the dark figure said. His voice was rough and harsh.

Silas tried to swallow, but his mouth was a desert. “I believe you,” he said.

“Are you Silas Ainsley?”

Silas nodded.

“Good. Get back in the cave.”

“What?” That was the last place Silas wanted to be.

“Go, now!”

Silas did as he was told and marched toward the cave opening. “I don’t know what this medallion thing is! I don't even want it!”

“Shut up! Get in the cave!”

“What are you here for?”

“Get in the cave!” the man repeated.

The man looked around as if he were expecting more men to pop out and shoot at him. Silas stepped over Theron’s dead body, and looked at the ground where Marcus lay, knowing it could have been his own corpse lying in a pool of blood. What was happening? Who could this person be? Silas thought his protector would be a little more reassuring. Silas was no more confident in his survival with this man than he was with Marcus or Theron. It made him wonder how much power this medallion really had and if there were others after it. Silas led the way down the fire-lit corridor, not knowing where he was supposed to be walking. The stranger eased his pull on the arrow, but left it fixed in place. He looked around as if searching for something in particular. After a moment he pulled back his black hood revealing his shoulder-length hair and rough, salt and pepper beard. A scar ran from his ear down his neck, but was mostly hidden by the thick facial hair. The man was intimidating, but Silas was too fatigued and weak to fear him. He either wanted to be killed as he had been promised, or let go. He was sick of being a prisoner. After several moments of searching every direction for something, Silas couldn’t figure, the man finally met his eyes.

“You're safe with me,” he said.

Silas doubted this, but it was better than another threat.

“I'm here only to find the medallion and get you to safety.”

“Are you the person my grandfather spoke of?”

The man nodded. “I’m guessing, yes.” He took a deep breath and continued. “Your grandfather and I were friends many years ago, before you were born.” The man finally strapped his bow and placed the arrow in his quiver. Silas winced as the man grabbed his wrists and swiftly cut the rope with a dagger he pulled from his belt, freeing him from the bonds.

“You don't seem that old,” said Silas.

“I wasn’t too much older than you when we became friends. He was a guide and good teacher. I am honored to finally be in your presence, Silas.”

Silas didn't know what to say. So many questions flooded his mind at once, yet he didn't feel as though he had the strength to listen to the answers. He just wanted a warm bed and some food, yet he was greatly interested in one detail.

“How did you know to come here?”

“What do you mean?” the man asked.

“My grandfather told me you were coming. I want to know how he knew that.”

The man sighed and looked away for a brief moment as if to think of the best thing to say. “There isn't much time to get into the specifics, Silas, but for now I will just tell you that it has been the plan for a while. It is a plan I've been a part of since your grandfather trained me and before you were born. The Reckoning.” The man must have noticed the expression on Silas' face. What he had said was not good enough.

“The Reckoning?”

“I promise to explain everything to you when there is time,” the man said. “Right now we have to get off this mountain.”

“What's the hurry?” Silas asked, wishing only for respite.

“The barrier has been lifted,” he said. “There is now nothing to stop the Stühocs from coming here and kidnapping you.”

A sudden cold filled Silas' insides.

“What are you talking about?” Silas asked.

“I swear to you that I will explain everything, but for now, we must get the medallion.”

What was it with this medallion? Everyone seemed to know about it’s importance but Silas, and he was sick of it. “I'm not telling you,” Silas said. “Not until you tell me why you need it.”

He could see the man's face turn red with frustration, maybe anger. “We don't have time for this. They are coming, Silas, and if they get here before we get the medallion it will fall into their hands. You don’t want that to happen, I assure you.”

It wasn't enough. For all he knew this was just a ploy for the man to get his hands on the medallion and kill Silas. What if this was just another possessed person that took a more thought out approach?

“Tell me why you want it so bad, and it's yours.”

The man waited, staring into Silas' eyes, frustrated. He wanted the medallion and he wasn't going to get it because of some seventeen-year-old with an attitude.

“If we don't get the medallion it falls into the hands of the Stühocs. They will comb this mountain to find it. They also won't rest until they have you.”

“Why do they want it? What is it?”

“It comes down to this, Silas,” the man said with ferocity. “There is a war coming and the person with the most medallions wins. I know you don't know me and having my side win may not sound like the most appealing thing to you right now, but I don't care. It would be much better to be in my hands than that of the Stühocs’. If the Stühocs are able to get the medallions then they will destroy us all.”

“Medallions? You mean there's more than one?”

He nodded. “Yours is just one of six.”

The man let his words sink in, then added, “If you don't mind, we must go.” The sword strapped to his back was glinting in the torchlight. He looked as if he were from another world, another time. Silas nodded, accepting the fact that he would not get all of his answers today.

“It's in the truck. We dumped it over the cliff two days ago. I'm not sure how long it will take to get there.”

“You mean it's not in the cave?” The man looked alarmed.

“That's right. My grandfather hid it in the truck so Marcus or Theron couldn't get to it.”

The man simply nodded and continued to think to himself. After a few long breaths he said, “It could be very dangerous out there. I'm not sure if the Stühocs have made it this far yet.”

It was difficult for Silas to guess what the man was planning. He did not feel the great sense of urgency this man felt, though it seemed he should.

“But we have to get the medallion,” the man continued. “Your grandfather was counting on it. It is essential to the plan.”

“What is the plan?” Silas tried once more.

“For now it's to stay alive, and get that medallion before the Stühocs do.”

“Are these others possessed by the Stühocs just like Theron and Marcus?”

“No,” he answered. “These are not the possessed, these are the possessors.”

Silas’ face drained of blood and his skin grew cold.

The man then moved abruptly. “Come,” he said.

“Where are we going?”

“To get the medallion. You have to lead me to the truck.”

The man walked toward the cave’s opening, picked up Theron’s sword from the ground and tossed it to Silas. Catching the sword at his chest, Silas followed the stranger who made his way in the direction of the woods behind the cave.

“You know how to use that thing?”

“Of course,” Silas answered.

“Good. Don't use it unless you have to. Leave the fighting to me unless you have no choice.”

Silas stopped for a moment and the man waited.

“A friend of my grandfather's must have a name, I'm sure.”

The man paused and respectfully gave a short bow. “Silas Ainsley, my name is Kaden Osric. I am your guide and your protector.”