The Marenon Chronicles Collection

Chapter Ten





It quickly became obvious that the gauntlet was designed to feed the bloodlust of the barbaric people occupying the bridge-town. Once inside, the victims were to become a show for the guards and other people, from where, Silas could not guess. The spectators stood on the lofty walls on either side of them. Silas could see them pointing at him and others in his group. It seemed they were making bets. Who would survive? Who would make it to the end first? Who would be killed first? It didn’t matter. There were endless ways to make money at the expense of those facing their second death. Their jeers and laughter made Silas wish that he could vomit. But his empty stomach prevented him from getting that kind of relief.

A masked guard, fat and bulging, walked to each of them with shackles clanking and hanging from his meaty arms. He silently clasped chains to the wrists of individuals to make pairs. Two-by-two they would run the gauntlet. Silas wished he could get a glimpse of what was to come, but once inside the gate, they were herded into a courtyard to wait. They saw nothing but high stone walls and a small door that would stay closed until they had been made ready by the masked guard. He finally came to Silas and the metal was slapped around his left wrist. He thought at first that he would be paired with Dink, but to Silas’ disappointment, the fat guard pulled red-beard next to him. The two were then destined to either live or die together. Dink’s partner was shaking more than the rest and was quite nearly ready to wet himself. After every person was paired, the guard stood in front of the door and smiled a large, toothless grin. He seemed excited to watch what was about to happen as if this were the best part of his day. Each person waited intently as the crowd on the wall above them continued to cheer and laugh. What happened to these people to make them act like such animals?

Just knowing the chance of survival was low, each chained prisoner fixed his or her eyes on the door in front of them. With the growing shouts from the crowd it was becoming impossible to listen for what lay beyond the door.

Silas looked to his red-bearded partner. “What’s your name?” he asked as if it mattered.

“Gunther,” he said, looking forward, his eyes unwavering from the wretched door. “I was right you know.”

Silas didn’t want to admit it, but Gunther had been right. They had been marching to their deaths the entire time, but what else was there to do? Arguing his point would not prove advantageous at the moment so he held his tongue.

“We just need to stay focused and be ready for whatever is ahead,” Silas replied and nothing else was said after that. A rhythm of shouts formed in the crowd above. They chanted for their picks so they might win that extra bit of cash. Silas was determined to make whoever bet on him rich.

Without warning, the door flew open. Instantly the pair standing directly in front of it was incinerated by a burst of flames, while the rest dropped to the ground. A loud moan shot out from the crowd. When the heat from the fire-blast died, Silas looked up from his position and noticed what looked to be a gigantic lizard, a dragon perhaps. He had never seen anything like it. Its large black snout snapped through the door, chomping at any food it could find. Silas tugged on the chain to get Gunther’s attention. In acknowledgement his counterpart stood, hunched over. When the footed serpent reared back for another fiery blow, the pair slipped under its belly and crouched, hoping the beast wouldn’t stomp on either of them. The dragon scraped and bit at the others as they scattered and tumbled through the door. It was disoriented by the number of meal options it had, taking bites in random directions. Silas and Gunther remained under the creature, attempting to avoid its heavy feet. The crowd was belligerent; throwing rocks at those they didn’t want to make it, mostly hitting the serpent, adding to its confusion. Again the monster blew fire, setting one of the chained prisoners ablaze. His partner was incapable of extinguishing the flames. He tried vigorously to drag the sizzling, smoking body, but it caused him to be slower than the others. The dragon went straight for him, giving Silas and Gunther their opportunity to run. The monster bit into the exposed prisoner, and the crunching bones and muffled scream sounded louder than the mob above. Taking advantage of the other’s misfortune, Silas and Gunther, along with the remaining survivors, ran down the path behind the monster.

After a moment, they came to a covered passageway, blocking them from view of the crowd. Silas figured that such a passageway was meant to provide suspense for those betting to see who would emerge out the other side still alive. As they edged forward they could see a tunnel. It was dark and no danger could be seen; yet everyone knew the danger existed. Each looked around; eyes darting to one another, hoping someone else would volunteer to move first. Dink reached down for a rock and threw it down the tunnel. Instantly a section of long spikes jutted out from the walls on both sides and continued in succession, one by one, down the tunnel. Silas counted seven sections of protruding spikes, each retracting mere seconds after they were discharged. He knew he could run it alone because the timing was fairly consistent, but with a person chained next to him it would prove fairly difficult. He looked at Gunther.

“We can do this,” he said.

Gunther shook his head. “I don’t know if I can.”

“We have too. There’s no going back.” He tugged sharply on the chain and stared Gunther down. “We’ll count out loud. Each section of spikes comes out in three-second bursts. We’ll count together then move.” Silas looked at the rest of them. “All of you do the same and you’ll make it.”

He got some nods of affirmation, but none of them were going without seeing someone else go first. Dink was still having trouble convincing his companion to go through at all. The man was shaking through his entire body and Silas sensed that Dink was afraid that the man would get him killed.

“Let’s go first,” said Silas.

Gunther let out a deep breath and nodded. They stood only a foot from the spikes and waited for the cycle to go through three times before finally making a move. The first set retracted and they jumped forward. The second retracted and they jumped again, this time spikes shot out behind and in front of them. With each jump they were only inches from a painful and gruesome death. The others behind them stood rigid in anticipation. Each time the spikes retracted in front of Silas and Gunther, they would leap to the next opening, until finally they made it to the other side. Luckily there wasn’t another fire-breathing dragon or some other monster to devour them when they made it through. At the end they both bent over in relief and watched for the next pair to come through.

The spikes shoved in and out through the rock. The sound of scraping stone sent shivers into their spines. The next couple began well, but by the third jump they realized something wasn’t right. The sequence of the spikes had changed.

“No, no,” one of them cried.

“Just try to follow it!” the other shouted as they leaped forward.

The two tried, but it was impossible to figure out the sequence while in the tunnel. With panic taking over their minds, they stepped into the wrong spot as the spikes ripped hundreds of cylindrical holes through their bodies. Silas had to look away after watching them.

“The spikes change sequences when someone else makes it through!” Gunther said.

Gunther was right. Silas forced himself to look back up, watching the sequence run three times through. When he figured out the pattern, he shouted to the other side. “It’s changed! You have to run two forward and one back!”

He repeated his command several times and with only the sound of scraping metal and stone, he saw Dink and his partner running through just as he instructed. Within twenty seconds they were finished. Dink let out a gasp of relief and gave his companion an encouraging pat on the back. The following sequence became more difficult and it gruelingly claimed the lives of the next pair. The group was down to only five pairs in all. Each of them studied the sequence and shouted out commands. Finally the next pair made it through, a man and a woman. The next sequence was more complicated. Even after deciphering the pattern, none of them were sure if it could be done. They would have to be fast runners. Silas guessed the sequence would be passable if the pair would run four ahead and three backward then one ahead again until the end. He shouted these instructions several times, but it was still a long time before anyone attempted to come through. Everyone knew why there was such a hesitation. None of them knew if it was even possible to maneuver at that speed over the hole-ridden bodies that littered the floor. The grotesque shoving and retracting of human flesh against the spiked walls and red-painted floor was more than enough to make several of them sick to their stomachs.

The spikes came out at the same speed as before, requiring the next couple to be flawless in their execution. It didn’t happen. Two by two they were all killed by the same mechanism, adding to the heap of shredded bodies. The last pair didn’t have a chance as they tripped over a leg or some extremity on the ground. Their death was quick, but not painless.

Each of the survivors hung their heads in gloom for their fallen companions. They had started with nearly a hundred that morning and were now down to six. Anger flooded Silas’ heart. They took a few moments to collect their breath and silently moved down the path into the wide opening. The crowd’s cheers and boos erupted from above as it was revealed who was still in the running to survive the gauntlet. Some began handing others money as they saw that their pick had been killed in the tunnel. Silas hated being put on display in such a way. He hated them for their hunger and thirst for blood. He hated Marenon.

The group of six walked down the path, feeling exhausted and defeated. They soon reached an area where the path split into three different directions. Silas looked at the others, knowing that the same question loomed in each of their minds. Should they all go down the same path or take separate ones?

“It seems obvious to me,” Dink said. “Who knows if they all lead to the end? If only one of them does, then one pair will make it through.”

“But there is strength in numbers,” Gunther said.

“Maybe,” Silas said. “Who knows whether a large group would make it worse? This place is unpredictable. Any decision we make could be good or bad.” They all stood in silence for a moment, none of them wanting to make the final decision. Silas finally spoke again. “I think we should split up.”

It was decided. The man and woman would take the path to the right, Dink and his partner the left, and Silas and Gunther would take the middle.

“Good luck,” Silas said to them all. “We’ll see you on the other side.”

Dink stopped for a moment, catching Silas’ attention. “I didn’t think death would be like this, you know?”

“Who would?” Silas said emotionless. He did not want negative thoughts of bitterness to cloud his determination to make it beyond the next obstacles.

Dink turned and walked.

The paths quickly veered away from one another. Each pair could no longer see or hear what may have happened to the others. The crowd above them had become background noise and soon they heard no noise at all as they passed under another ceiling, covering them from view. Just then, Silas noticed, for the first time, that the gauntlet was one massive structure, built like a town square, but with high walls enabling the crowd to watch. The walls also helped keep the players in the gauntlet. Silas thought it must have taken a lot of work to plan and build. The path they walked was rocky and narrow, and Silas knew the peace of soundless walking they experienced would be brief. He remained alert and aware.

Without warning, the earth began to shake. It was difficult for the pair to keep their balance and they both fell to the dirt. In front of them the ground began to split under the pressure of the shifting plates. There was no place to take cover from the falling rocks, should the walls on either side of them or the ceiling begin to crumble. Wider and wider the crevice spread until Silas could finally see that it was not an earthquake after all. The ground had opened up, and before them appeared stairs leading down into the darkness below. The shaking stopped and a dusty quiet fell around them. Silas and Gunther glanced at each other with a grim understanding that they might not make it out alive. With only slight hesitation they picked themselves up and descended into the unknown.

The further they went down, the darker it became. Soon, they were completely underground with no light, blind to what could be endangering them. The Eerie darkness clung to Silas’ exposed skin, sending a cold shiver up his spine. Once down the steps, the path narrowed. It was straight and void of any obstacles. This would change, Silas knew, but he felt relief nonetheless. Their chain clinked lightly with each step, serving as a warning sound to anything that might be awaiting them ahead.

As they continued their slow pace, the air began to feel lighter than it had only moments before and their sounds started producing echoes. In an instant, flames ignited on torches in a circular motion revealing an enormous room resembling a cathedral. Forced to shield their eyes from the blazing light, they knew their guard was let down.

Silas wondered who had lit the flames, but it seemed that they had caught fire by their own power. The two squinted through the light, letting their eyes adjust. Silas instantly noticed seven doorways leading out of the chamber. The one directly across from them was their way out. It led up the stairs and to the top, or at least this is what Silas was hoping. He pointed this out to Gunther and slowly crept toward the other end, hoping they didn’t fall into some sort of trap. As they neared the center of the giant room, the sound of swords being unsheathed and the tapping of boots on the floor caused them to freeze in place. Six black-robed figures emerged from each of the other doorways. Every masked man carried a sword and held it in front with a fierce and almost robot-like focus. Silas and Gunther were defenseless as the cloaked warriors moved in closer, cutting off their path to freedom.

Silas was startled by the sound above them as the ceiling began to crack open from the center. The gap widened and the sun shined brighter, illuminating everyone in the giant room. Soon, the crowd above them became visible and they erupted in cheers at the site of the cloaked swordsmen closing in on the captives. Silas shook his head to maintain focus on the coming fight, trying hard to ignore the chants from above.

The partners stood back-to-back watching every move of the slow approaching combatants.

“We may not survive today,” Silas said, “but what do you say we give this crowd a show trying?”

“What do we do?” Gunther asked.

“Just try to get one of their swords.”

“What? How?”

“Just follow my lead,” he said.

It was time to see if his grandfather’s training still held true in the afterlife. When the first soldier attacked, Silas caught the blade with the chain and twisted it around the hilt. The man was immediately disarmed and the sword landed in Silas’ right hand. He was in his element now. Stunned, the black soldier did not jump back as he should have and instead received a slash through the heart sending him lifeless to the ground. The crowd once again exploded into cheers of giddiness, not having expected to see a fair fight.

One attack after another, Silas was able to parry and stab, with Gunther occasionally shouting warnings of oncoming attacks from various men in black. The two worked like an engine and then a second man was down on the ground. Silas pulled the chain firmly and they both took off running at a pair of soldiers in black, clotheslining them to the ground. Silas spun around sending the blade through the man and Gunther crushed the other’s throat with his foot, causing the crowd to groan.

With two left, he and Gunther lunged forward to clothesline them except this time Silas slid to the ground and tripped up the feet of one of the soldiers, slicing him through the chest, and in the same fluid motion slicing the other’s neck. In the end, he and Gunther stood, covered in blood that was not their own, with six dead bodies at their feet. Every person in the crowd seemed to be focused on these two as some were jumping up and down with glee while others stood in stunned silence.

Gunther stared at Silas in disbelief.

“Where did you learn to do all that?”

Silas said nothing for a moment. “My grandfather,” he finally answered. They stood a moment to catch their breath. Silas had never fought six opponents before and he didn’t wish to do so again. He was surprised by his own strength and abilities especially since he had not been formally trained in more than two years. It must have stayed with me, he thought.

“I suppose I’m lucky to have become your partner,” Gunther said.

“It’s probably not over,” Silas answered, keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him.

They made their way to the door with the stairs leading to the top. Once they emerged from the top there was another loud burst of cheers and boos from those who were making money and those who were losing it. The noise resounding through the crowd at least proved that some person from another group was still struggling to survive. Ahead, they saw another large wooden gate like the one they had come through in the beginning. This time there was another guard standing in front of it. Silas hoped beyond all hope that the challenges were finished. He looked to his left and right and saw that the other two paths did actually lead to where he now stood. He hoped that the others would make it out.

In mid-thought, the man and woman emerged from the path to his right. They looked battered and bruised, but they were alive. It was several minutes before Dink arrived alone. The chain dangled from his wrist, dragging a bloody stump of an arm that looked to have been bitten off by something; a remnant of what used to be his partner.

Silas nodded at him then looked ahead at the guard standing to tell them the next phase of the gauntlet. None of them moved. Out of the one hundred that had begun that morning and the twenty of them that were called to the gauntlet, only five were left. What kind of hell was this place? What kind of person would make others go through these trials for no reason at all but to provide some sport? If this was any representation of what awaited them in Marenon, Silas wanted nothing to do with it.

The guard at the gate motioned them to come forward. The stinging pain in Silas’ shoulder served as a reminder of his injury. He applied pressure in hopes of stopping the bleeding, knowing he would need all the strength he could muster for whatever may happen next. They stood within feet of the guard, malice growing strong in their hearts. Killing him crossed all of their minds, but it was probably a futile idea. It would take only moments for other guards to rain sharp arrows down on them.

The guard held out an arm to quiet the crowd.

“You have made it to the end of the gauntlet,” he began, “and now you face your greatest challenge.”

Silas didn’t want to hear it. The patronizing speech would do nothing for them.

Why not just open the gate and send us to our deaths?

“Your greatest challenge is to become someone noteworthy in Marenon,” he said. “Many have gone on to great things and others have wallowed in fear and depression only to have a meaningless existence between here and the true afterlife.” He stepped forward and pulled out a set of keys to unchain them. “Do not become like those who went on to do nothing. Live here as true citizens for the king you now serve.” He paused. “You are the survivors. Welcome to Marenon.”

The gate opened slowly. Relief flooded through each of them as they realized that the gauntlet was finished. Gunther fell to his knees thankful he survived the day. Silas wanted to lie down and sleep for a few weeks. The five were battered and bloody, but they had held strong. Beyond the gate they were led up a path with people on either side of the railings, not cheering, not booing, but just watching, hoping to get a glimpse of the new five that were strong enough to make it through the gauntlet.

The five made their way to the end of the bridge where they faced hundreds of buildings with people scattered all around the city. Silas could hear a blacksmith pounding away at a piece of metal, men and women shouting out, selling their goods. Vendors were scattered about, setting up shop for the crowds who were exiting the gauntlet viewing area. The smell of spices and fire-cooked meat was the first smell of food any of the group had experienced in Marenon. Silas suddenly realized how hungry he had become. One vendor who was set up near the exit of the gauntlet shouted out to the group of five.

“Welcome to the city of Canor!” he said. “I’ve got maps of the city and the whole country. I’ve even got food here!”

Gunther, the woman and her partner walked over to the vendor only to be told that they needed money to buy something.

Silas looked at Dink. “What’s your plan?”

Dink stared at the ground, then to Silas. “When I was fighting my way through that thing, I remembered exactly how I died,” he said grimly. “I’ve got to figure out some things. My wife might be here too.” There was an awkward pause, and then Dink asked, “Where will you go?”

“To find my grandfather,” Silas said. Dink nodded, eyeing the ground. Silas wondered what had happened to Dink. Why was he here?

They stood quietly for a long moment.

“Well, good luck,” Dink said.

Silas grinned and offered his hand in friendship. “I hope our paths cross again, Dink.”

“Perhaps they will, Silas.” And without knowing where to go or what to do they both walked away from each other and into the city. Silas’ first need was to find some food. He was starving and had not been given the opportunity to eat in this afterlife. He left the other three to their murmuring as they despaired over not having money or a place to go. Silas knew his plan, but he had no direction. The city was busy, but it was not as his former world. Everything was old and looked as if it had come from a history book. The streets were crowded, not with vehicles, but with horses and people on foot. There was no modern technology in the city to speak of. This surprised Silas since everyone here had come from Earth hadn’t they? Were there no cars or electricity? From a distance, Silas heard a loud “PSSST!”

He turned to see a dark-haired man with a thin beard upon his gaunt face. He stood at the corner of one of the buildings in the shadows. After realizing he had been noticed, the man motioned Silas to come join him. Silas wasn’t sure if he should, but what was there to lose? If anything, he might be of some help. As Silas slid into the shadow of the building, the man spoke first.

“I saw you in the gauntlet,” he said. “Not bad at all.”

“Er- thanks,” Silas said.

“You had some good moves against the dragon and you seemed to go through the spiked tunnel flawlessly. I also saw you took the middle tunnel. You’re quite the fighter. You’ll want to get your shoulder taken care of, though.”

“What do you want?” Silas said.

“I’ve got a job I think you can help me with,” he said. “It pays well and the danger is nothing compared to what you just faced.”

“Thanks, but I’m here to find someone.” Silas turned to leave, but the man grabbed his arm firmly.

“Everybody starts out looking for someone in Marenon. Sometimes they find them, sometimes they don’t. If you help me on this job, I’ll pay you well, and I’ll help you find who you’re looking for.”

The offer sounded good, but Silas couldn’t shake the feeling that the man should not be trusted. He wrenched his arm away from the man and gave a questioning look.

“Who are you?”

The man stood straight and extended his hand for a shake and said, “My name is Alric Thirsk, what’s yours?”