Rebellion - An Eldritch Chronicles Short Story

in #writing7 years ago

pexels-photo-209756_s.jpg

Merrill wiped the moisture from his brow with the mud-stained sleeve of his shirt leaving a dark smear across his wrinkled forehead. The few white hairs he had left were matted to his scalp. The mist was cool and thick this morning and made it difficult to see the road from the tree-line where he was crouched. A slight breeze blew the stinging mist into his face and made his eyes water. He gripped his shovel, feeling the crags of aged wood under his thumb as he glanced over his shoulder at the other townsmen fidgeting nervously with their "weapons". He thought about bringing his axe. It was sharper and probably a more conventional weapon, but the shovel gave him more reach. Besides, he used the shovel daily. It felt right in his hands.

Blessed gods of the harvest are we crazy? he asked himself. We're going to get slaughtered. We're no match for these soldiers.

Merrill didn't know how they were going to stop them, but the town hall had agreed that they could not let another child die at the hands of this "King", this murderer. Enough was enough. For the last ten years, soldiers have gone from town to town and taken any girl that appeared to be of a certain age. The King was looking for someone, and he still hadn’t found them after all of these years. News traveled quickly among the towns and villages, and people tried to hide their children, but the soldiers just intensified their search by tearing homes apart and razing entire villages. This year, however, they were not going to lay down for these soldiers. They were not going to have their homes destroyed, their women raped, their children taken. This year they were going to fight back.

A hoot owl sounded from the mist and Merrill’s heart quickened. That was the signal from the scouts. Merrill wondered how they could see in the mist, but he didn’t have to wonder for long because he soon heard the drumming sound of soldiers marching and the clatter of hooves on the road. The sun had crested the horizon and the cool morning mist was beginning to clear. Merrill could see the treeline on the opposite side of the road now.

A parade of footmen carrying spears and wearing crimson leather armor came into view. Then a train of covered wagons pulled by draft horses and surrounded by cavalry.

Oh holy ones, there are so many Merrill thought.

He felt himself trembling uncontrollably and he reached his calloused hand inside his shirt. There his fingers found the wooden beads on his necklace. Raising them to his lips, he conjured the image of his granddaughter in his mind. “For you my dear Emma, today I will avenge you.” He kissed the beads tenderly and tucked them back into his shirt.

A woodpecker rapped on the tree in the distance. Another signal. He heard the creak of the wooden bows as they were drawn taunt behind him, and for a brief moment, time stood still.

We only have enough arrows for one volley, Gods we better make it good Merrill thought to himself.

Closing his eyes, he whispered a prayer. All was quiet except for the steps of the unwary soldiers echoing on the road before them. Then, with a whoosh, Merrill opened his eyes and saw the small barrage of arrows streak over his head and find their mark in the parade of men. Merrill and his townsmen began their charge.

divider-36856_1280.png

A wave of farmers, smiths, shoemakers, and merchants erupted from the trees on either side of the road and charged towards surprised men. A line of soldiers fell to the arrows while others quickly formed ranks around the convoy. As Merrill charged across the field, men many years younger than him quickly passed and smashed into the wall of spearmen. To Merrill’s eyes they were all so young, the soldiers and townsmen alike. Children fighting children. He winced as he watched his neighbor, Olsen Gantry, impaled on a spear during the charge. Many more of his friends suffered a similar fate all before he could reach the line, but he was surprised to see the rush break thru the wall of soldiers. And before he knew it, he was among them.

Merrill made eye contact with a young soldier and saw his intent immediately. He knocked the spear thrust to the side just in time to see it whisk by his face. In response, he swung the butt of his shovel up and struck the young soldier under the jaw. The blow lifted the young man off of his feet and knocked him backward. Merrill caught rapid movement out of the corner of his eye and spun, swinging his shovel in a wide arc at the sudden movement. The blade of the shovel smashed into two spears, knocking them from the hands of the approaching soldiers. The two soldiers’ eyes widened in surprise. They were not expecting an old farmer to move so quickly. One of them dove for their weapons and the other closed fast on Merrill. He closed too fast and got both of his hands on Merrill’s shovel. Merrill gasped as a knee slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Releasing his grip he fell backward trying to catch his breath, but the air refused to enter his lungs. A smirking young soldier stepped forward and raised the shovel high. Merrill turned his head and closed his eyes waiting for the inevitable blow to land. Instead, he heard a swoosh and a crack.

“Get up old man! We need you.”

Merrill opened his eyes to see Tom Mason grinning over him, covered in blood and dirt. Tom held a bloodied sledgehammer over his shoulder and extended his arm to help Merrill up. Climbing to his feet, Merrill grabbed a spear laying on the ground and looked around. Blessed Gods we’re winning! he thought to himself as he saw most of the spearmen on the ground and still a number of townsmen fighting.

“Enough!” a deep boom erupted from a covered wagon. The frame of the wagon exploded sending splintered wood in all directions. A sharp fragment lodged into Merrill’s thigh, but he hardly noticed. Instead, his blood chilled at the image before him. A man, no... a creature in dark canvas robes lept from the wagon and landed with a heaviness that shook the ground around him. The beast stood a man and a half tall. The skin on its forearms bore ghastly scars and its monstrous hands only had three thick fingers tipped in long black claws. The hood of its robes pulled far over its head shielding its face from view. Merrill smelled a potent musky scent and knew it must be this creature even though it was more than thirty yards away.

divider-36856_1280.png

“Seeker!” someone cried in the distance, and many men turned to flee.

A group of seven townsmen lined up with spears and axes ten yards in front of the Seeker. With desperate determination, they charged at it. The scene was almost surreal to Merrill as he watched the Seeker become a blur of motion. The beast scooped the body of a dead soldier and hurled it into the group of oncoming men with little more effort than that of a man throwing a sack of potatoes. The corpse crashed into the men knocking half of them down as the Seeker marched towards them.

Two of the men continued their charge and ran their spears well into the beast’s chest. It didn’t flinch. There was no blood, no indication that it had been injured at all. Instead, the Seeker thrust both of its arms forward it plunged its massive hands into the young men’s chests. With long black claws protruding from their back, it raised the men off the ground as they writhed and gasped their final breaths. It then threw them at the crowd of men trying to regain their feet. A line of remaining soldiers fell in behind the beast, as it walked nearer to Merrill and Tom.

“Thisss - will - bee your undoing. Today you lose your homes, your fam-el-lee” the strangely accented voice boomed from under the hood of the Seeker.

“Today you will all ... “

The Seeker raised a hand and paused. The soldiers following the beast halted abruptly. Slowly it turned its hooded head to look at the woods where Merrill had come from. Still trembling, Merrill followed its gaze to see a young girl emerge from the woods. She was a child, she couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve years old. Her dark brown hair was pulled back tight on her head. She was dressed in a simple leather tunic with many pouches hanging from her belt, and she held both of her fists clenched by her sides as she stepped out of the woods. Her gaze was fixed on the Seeker and she marched towards it with purpose.

“You are done here Zamos - your time has come” she shouted in a young shrill voice. For her youth, she spoke with authority.

“She is the one! Take her!” The beast hissed, and the soldiers behind the Seeker charged towards the young girl.

Merrill watched as the girl calmly lifted her hands in front of her, opened her fingers and whispered. Streaks of light exploded from her hands and darted into the oncoming soldiers knocking them to the ground. They rolled and cried out as their armor smoked and charred. In a short moment - they were motionless on the ground, the smell of burnt hair and flesh permeated the air.

“Holy father! Was that magic?” Tom gasped.

The enraged Seeker roared as it picked up a spear and began to run towards the girl. She closed her eyes and started chanting as the creature covered the distance with unnatural speed. Opening her eyes, Merrill and Tom watched as she squatted low and plunged her hands wrist deep into the soil. A web of light flared from the ground and quickly wove its way towards the oncoming Seeker. Merrill almost lost his footing as giant crystalline stones exploded out of the ground creating a monolithic cage encompassing the Seeker. As quickly as it happened, the light faded and all was quiet. The girl stood wearily, looking tired and drained of color.

A loud boom came from the stone enclosure, and the ground shook again.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.

With each sound, the wall surrounding the beast seemed to shift. Then the very light of day seemed to dim and Merrill felt cold. Not the chill of the morning, but a deep, penetrating cold that set into his bones.

The stone cage suddenly changed color becoming as black as coal, and then its glassy texture changed. It seemed to age and weather thousands of years in a matter of seconds and quickly crumbled around the Seeker like black sand. The beast took one step out of its prison and hurled the spear at the girl.

Time seemed to slow again for Merrill as he watched the spear rip through the air. He could see that it was aligned perfectly with its target. Merrill wanted to close his eyes, he could not bear to see the death of another child. But the spear never found its mark. He watched, his jaw agape as the girl spun out of the way and caught the weapon by its shaft. In the same fluid spin she sent it flying back towards the Seeker but somehow the spear was now glowing! The streak of light found its mark in the Seeker’s neck and the beast dropped to its knees and reached for its throat tugging at the shaft.

The girl charged towards the writhing beast and drew a large red stone from one of her pouches. Merrill heard her cry out as she leapt incredibly high into the air and watched as the brilliant red rays of light burst from the stone in her hands. She dropped onto the Seeker’s shoulders and plunged the glowing stone into the base of his skull. A blinding burst of light erupted from the entangled pair and deafening boom sounded. Merrill felt a wave of force hit him in the chest, throwing him and Tom to the ground.

Dazed and confused, Merrill rolled to his side. His ears were ringing and he couldn’t seem to focus his vision. He felt a firm grasp on his shoulder and slowly the image of Tom came into view, he was trying to help Merrill up. Stumbling to his feet he saw a circular patch of bare ground lay where there was once tall standing grass. The ground looked scorched as if a great fire had been set upon it. There was no sign of the Seeker. He caught movement near the treeline and looked just in time to see the shadow of a young girl stepping wearily into the woods. Her leather tunic was covered in black char and soot. She paused for a moment turning to look over her shoulder at the two men. Even with his old eyes, Merrill could see tears in hers. He reached into his shirt and brought the wooden beads again to his lips. Tears welled in his eyes and he waved to the young girl. She smiled, gave him a weary nod, and disappeared into the shadows of the trees.

divider-36856_1280.png

Thank you for reading this Eldritch Chronicles short story. I hope you enjoyed it. This is the 4th story I've written in this series and it takes place about 10 years after the previous stories I've written. You can find the others here:

Image source: Pexels.com