The Serpent and the Crown Page 7

  One evening, murky clouds filled the sky as twilight drew near. The wind and rain battered the crew as they struggled to keep their boat on course.

  Kayo approached Jorobai and held on to the railing by his side. “These men are straining and their confidence in your direction is fading fast. If one of them dies, our journey will be over.”

  “If they are ill or injured we can care for them. What else can we do? I have already offered them everything.”

  “If we don’t reach land soon, you may have to make a choice.” Kayo nodded his head at the canoe strapped to the back of the boat.

  Jorobai turned his head to follow Kayo’s gesture but something in the distance caught his eye. “What was that?”

  “What?” Kayo looked out where Jorobai pointed.

  “I thought I saw something rising out of the water. Could be a shark.”

  Together they waited and watched the choppy water. “There!” said Kayo as a dark hump rose out of the water and dropped back down. “It’s not a shark. No fin. Looks like something much bigger.”

  “It’s coming closer,” said Jorobai. “Madrigo!” He called out to the captain at the back of the ship. “There’s something out there in the…”

  Jorobai was struck dumb when a giant black serpent sprung up and out of the sea in front of him. Before anyone had time to respond, it came crashing down head first into the boat. Its mouth came down around the entire upper half of one of Madrigo’s men. He didn’t have time to scream for his life as the serpent lifted him up out of the boat and disappeared into the depths again. The other men screamed on his behalf as they scrambled to find weapons to defend themselves.

  Madrigo shouted commands but Jorobai could not hear. The anger that he felt for Rongo’s death was in him, and now he had a target for his vengeance. He scrambled to find a weapon but all that was nearby was an oar. He broke it over his knee, discarded the flat end and held the shaft with a jagged, pointed end ready like a spear.

  The serpent rose up again and filled the sky with its black scales glistening in the sun’s fading light. Water cascaded down as it rose, and the men could tell that this was only its upper half. The enormous serpent could have wrapped up the boat and pulled it down in one instant but instead it seemed intent on taking them one by one.

  The men hurled spears and arrows at the serpent and whatever they could put their hands on, but it did not deter the monster as it crashed down onto its second victim. Jorobai swung wildly at the serpent’s head and grazed it across its snout. It rose back up with the man’s legs dangling out of its mouth and disappeared below the surface.

  “I’m next!” cried Jorobai as he stood in the center of the boat. “Get to the sides and form a circle around me with spears up. Be ready to attack. Go for the eyes. It can’t hunt us blind.” They looked at him with fear in their eyes, but they did what he said and retreated to the edges of the boat. Kayo looked at Jorobai and worried for his friend but he was too shocked to say anything. When Jorobai looked back at him there was confidence in his eyes.

  Jorobai clutched the broken oar so tightly the splinters dug into his hands. He breathed quickly and deeply through his nostrils as he clenched his jaws and set his feet. His eyes scanned the ocean surface as the boat rocked back and forth and the wind flung rain against his face.

  Lightning flashed as the scaly serpent erupted out of the water once again, its head looming above the ship. Jorobai looked up to see its mouth slightly agape and a thread of drool dripping down.

  The serpent dove straight down onto Jorobai. At the last moment he danced aside and the serpent’s face crashed into the deck. Jorobai lurched forward with the broken oar and drove it directly into the serpent’s eye. Jinjo stepped forward and drove his spear into the serpent’s other eye. Madrigo’s spear pierced the side of its jaw. The serpent rose up, writhing in agony and let out a piercing cry, almost like a scream, as it shook its head back and forth. It screamed again as its head sunk beneath the surface. The scream faded as it sank into the depths.

  Later in the evening the water was calm but the boat was damaged. Jorobai felt a little better having satiated his need to kill an enemy. It was a form of retribution against the creatures of the sea for his brother’s death. All around him the situation was dire. The men of Farilal had lost their crewmates. Their heads hung low. In spite of the repair work that needed to be done, they sat paralyzed, gazing out on the horizon.

  Madrigo stood at the front of the boat and stared off into the distance with his arms crossed. He took a long breath in and out, made his way over to Jorobai and sat down next to him. “Those men the serpent killed, Joto and Karamay; I knew them since I was a small boy. We have been friends for all these years. Just like all the rest of the men on this boat, we are brothers, very much like you and Rongo.” He paused a moment and took another long breath. “I want you to find your son, but this boat will not take you there. My men and I have had enough.”

  The flicker of an argument rose up within Jorobai, but he suppressed it. He couldn’t ask them to go any further, especially now that he knew the dangers of the sea.

  “I must go on alone. Let me use the canoe.”

  “What is the point of that? You know what the sea can do. You had a crazy vision with a shaman but you know the truth. The reason you can’t find your son is because he was eaten by a beast, just like Joto and Karamay. Nothing left to bury but our grief.”

  His words cut Jorobai, but they didn’t shake his faith.

  “I know what I need to do, Madrigo. My wife died when my son was very young. She died trying to protect him. Now my son is missing. My brother sacrificed himself so that I could carry on and find him. I cannot turn around now. I release you. I cannot ask you to go any further, but I must go on. Please just let me have some wood to make a raft.”

  “You can have the canoe. We are going home.”

  Jorobai loaded a fishing spear and water jug into the canoe and Kayo helped him lower it into the water. He tucked Jankaro’s knife into his belt and got in. Kayo leaned over the side and handed Jorobai the bottle of Amoza, wrapped in thick cloth and tucked in a satchel. “Use this in a time of need. Remember the chant I taught you.” Jorobai accepted with trepidation. He knew the potion could be useful but he didn’t want to lose another 40 days in a trance.

  “You will find your son. Bring him home.” Kayo pushed off on the canoe and the men watched for a moment as Jorobai drifted away.

  They put up their sails and turned around. Jorobai watched as Kayo and Madrigo faded into the distance.

  Into the Fire

  Hundreds of men, all peasants, gathered in the circular arena and filled seats that led up from the arena floor. Jankaro saw Rafael, dressed in shining armor with condor feathers sticking up out of the top of his helmet, standing on a raised platform with some of the other Galdean officers. The peasants murmured to one another ominously, speculating on what ill tasks might lay before them. Many of them carried swords, spears, or bows, but some of them carried more primitive weapons such as clubs, butcher knives, garden hoes, harpoons, machetes and slingshots. The group included young boys of just ten or eleven years and elders past their prime; there were even some women among the crowd who were not drafted but had volunteered to step up and fight.

  “As some of you may have already heard, the Cruxai forces march upon our great kingdom once again.” Rafael’s voice carried throughout the courtyard and silenced the crowd. “Our scouts have reported that the Cruxai horde has mobilized and marches on our great sister city of Dorfin. Most of our soldiers have already left Calixo. My brother Titus is with them. He will lead the evacuation of the city, sending the women, children and elderly here, and to Caladon, and to some of the small villages and townships that populate our kingdom. He will also coordinate the battle plan. All over the kingdom we are rallying all the men we can spare to fight them off.

  “My fat
her, our great king, has charged me with leading us to victory and restoring our kingdom to its former glory. To win this war, we must learn to dominate the enemy. Over the years we have won many battles. But we have lost more than we have won, and eventually they have taken every city and every inch of land on which they have set their sights. But we aim to change that today, and restore the destiny of our kingdom. So we must be brave, and fight with all our might, for the crown defends Dorfin just as it defends Calixo. We are one nation, and together we will defeat these evil fiends and send them back to the hell from whence they came!” The crowd rumbled with approval, stomping and hitting their weapons against the ground.

  “After every battle, we devise new strategies to fight the enemy. Part of this strategy involves you, the people of Galdea. We cannot defeat the Cruxai with our military alone. We need everyone. So before we march, there are some things that you must know about this enemy.

  “First, do not look them in the eyes. Their eyes have a hypnotic quality and you may be tranquilized and shortly thereafter you will be dead. Do not, for any reason, look them in the eyes.

  “Second, if you kill one of them, be certain it is dead! Stab it through the heart! When they are wounded, they play dead. You knock them down in defeat, you move on to another one, then next thing you know your throat has been slit from behind! Slit their throats, pierce their eyeballs, let there be no doubt that any life remains in them.

  “Third, many of their officers ride on lizard horses. They are incredibly fast, intelligent, strong, and their claws are razor sharp. It is best to leave them to the soldiers. Kill them from behind if you can, when they are distracted fighting another. If they see you coming they will send you flying with a flick of their tail.

  “And last, beware the Jurugas. If you get anywhere near them, expect certain death. They stand twice the height of men. They have fleshy tubes that look like hair that hang from their heads down their backs. Their faces look like they are wearing drooping, plated masks and their flesh is nearly hard as stone. They wield giant blades with pinpoint accuracy. They spit acid that will eat right through you. They are vulnerable between the different plates of their armor, their neck and their eyes. But I repeat: stay away from them. We have strategies to defeat them that will be executed by our finest soldiers, many of whom have died trying.

  “Now everyone to the front gates. We march immediately. Some of you will be given a new and better weapon on the way. For the crown!”

  “For the crown!” the crowd answered in unison.

  The Galdean civilian forces lined up in single file lines on the main road outside the front wall of the city. From there they were loaded into large wagons, each pulled by five horses. Each wagon carried twenty men and additional supplies. At the front of each line stood two officers. One oversaw a large bin full of weapons. He offered some of the men the chance to trade in their garden hoe for a sword, or their club for a spear. Some got helmets or bits of armor. “Wow look at you,” said the officer as Jankaro passed. “Oh that´s right, you are Altamont’s boy. Take a seat in that wagon there. And remember, don´t look them in the eyes!”

  Jankaro sat down next to a man with graying hair. As the wagon pulled away from the city, the man spoke. “I used to be a soldier. I retired long ago. Now I’m just a simple cobbler. I am a peaceful man. I fought these Cruxai many times long ago. We defeated them twice at Falconcrest before they took her. They are nothing but brutal and they don’t stop until they win. They just keep coming back, over and over again, such a mad, demonic horde.

  “Look at that pretty sword and pretty armor. You have never fought before, have you?”

  “I have never seen these beings. I only fight with Altamont. He trained me.”

  “Altamont is not a soldier. If you can survive this battle, they will train you at the soldiers´ guild. Then you will know how to fight. You are not from here. Where do you come from?”

  “I come from Olaya.”

  “Olaya? Where is that? How did you get here? How did you get here without ever hearing of the Cruxai?”

  Jankaro paused for a moment before answering. “My home is in the jungle. I was abducted. I don’t know who took me or why they brought me here. When I got here I was sick and hungry. Altamont took me in and helped me become strong.”

  “You will need that strength if you want to survive.” He frowned as he reached into his pouch, pulled out a small, tightly rolled bundle of herbs and put it in his mouth. “Why would anyone want to abduct a jungle kid like you and bring you all the way to Calixo?” He struck a smaller stick on a rough cloth to catch it on fire, and lit the bundle in his mouth. He inhaled the smoke and exhaled as he leaned back and gazed up at the sky.

  “Can I have one?” Jankaro asked. He was curious about the smaller sticks that made fire and desperate to change the subject.

  “The cobbler is a fool,” said a young man with folded arms seated on the other side of the wagon. “Those herbs will dull your senses. They are best saved for after the battle.”

  “He’s right, kid,” the gray haired man said to Jankaro. “You best wait until tomorrow if you want to try the smoke.”

  “I have seen the men in my village smoke, but they use a pipe. I was asking about the fire. We use striking stones. I have never seen fire made like that.”

  “It’s called a match.” He pulled one from a small box and handed it to Jankaro. “Strike it on a rough surface, but have your tinder ready. The flame is like a woman’s love, it lasts only for a moment.” A few of the men in the wagon chuckled at the cobbler’s joke.

  “Fire is medicine,” said an old man with a long white beard, seated at the end of the wagon. “Saved my life once.” He pulled back the sleeve of his shirt to reveal a scarred stump at the end of his wrist. “A Cruxai chopped off my hand in Falconcrest. I killed him, but I was bleeding to death. I held my hand in the flames of a torch until the wound was sealed. My hand is gone, but I can still feel it burning.” Jankaro’s gut turned as the light-skinned old man looked directly at him with a pained expression in his bloodshot pale blue eyes. He held his gaze for a moment, then pulled down his sleeve, crossed his arms and looked out at the horizon.

  “If your leg is hurt bad and you are bleeding to death,” said the young man seated to Jankaro’s right as he rolled up his pant leg, “you can tie it off to stop the bleeding, and you might live.” He tapped on a wooden staff that ran into his boot and served as his lower leg. “Juruga spit hit my foot at the last battle, when we beat them back from Dorfin. I fainted as I watched my foot melt away before my eyes. Someone tied off my leg and carried me to the medicine man. He said my leg was infected and he cut if off at the knee.”

  Jankaro felt sick as he listened to the grisly tale.

  “I think he has heard enough of our tales,” said the cobbler as he offered his cigarette to Jankaro. “Just take a puff, it will calm your nerves.”

  Jankaro took a puff of the cigarette, coughed, and passed it back to the cobbler. He felt light headed as he shook the grisly images from his mind.

  “Where do they come from? Why do they keep attacking?” Jankaro asked as he watched men with ropes pull down a large tree on a distant hillside.

  “They’re just a bunch of…” the cobbler began.

  “Why don’t you let old Cyrus tell him,” said the young man from across the wagon. “You’re too busy smoking.”

  “He’s right,” said the cobbler. “Cyrus tells it best.”

  “It’ll cost your three puffs of that smoke,” said Cyrus as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back.

  “Not another one,” said the young man from across the wagon.

  “Don’t worry,” said another young man seated next to him. “That old man can’t fight anyway.”

  “Here,” said the cobbler as he passed the cigarette to Jankaro. “Take it to him. He can have the rest.”

&nbs
p; Jankaro took the cigarette to Cyrus and sat back down as the old man took a deep inhale. “It all started with a princess who fell in love with a jungle boy like you.” The old man pointed at Jankaro and took another drag.

  “Come on Cyrus,” said the cobbler. “That’s not what happened. It all started when king Agustin decided to hunt down all the shamans of the northern jungle.”

  “And why do you think he did that? It’s because his daughter ran off with a young apprentice and never came home. He thought it was sorcery and he sent his army into the jungle to capture or kill all the shamans and traditional medicine men of the jungle.

  “There was one shaman who fought back. He created the Cruxai to protect himself and his tribe. He made them with old magic, blending the blood of men with the blood of lizards. His wife was killed by Agustin, but her spirit returned to the flesh in the form of a giant lizard. The shaman coupled with her in a cave on the side of an active volcano. Every day she laid eggs for him and they hatched into the Cruxai.

  “The Cruxai fought Agustin’s army and everything was going well for the last shaman. But the Cruxai eventually got out of control and killed their master. They killed everyone in the north. They’re heading south to finish the job of killing all the humans and claiming all of Galdea for themselves.”

  After three days of traveling in the wagon, they arrived at Dorfin by night, and the white-walled city was lit by torchlight. It featured similar architecture to Calixo in that it had two layers of defenses. The first wall was twenty feet high and surrounded the entire city with towers on all four corners; the walls encapsulated the markets, the shops and the residential areas. To the north stood one massive gate that would inevitably be the focal point of the attack. An inner wall surrounded the castle, where the governing class and elite citizens resided and administered the city. The castle also featured towers on all four corners.