Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #16 July 2015 | Seite 39

Taran and Dawit drew their weapons and established a perimeter, with the smooth wall of the cave at their backs. They cleared enough room so that Simon and Jhamed had space to stack their packs and sit down on the sandy floor to wait. Their arrival had generated enormous interest and a crowd gathered. People pushed and jostled to get to the front. Eyes were gouged and brittle bones were broken in the crush. Dawit had to threaten them with his axe to get them to stand back. He scratched a line in the sand with his foot. “Cross this line and you shall feel the mercy of my axe on your wretched skulls! Stay behind the line and you shall be freed this day.” The crowd eyed his axe and chattered nervously. Everyone stayed behind the line. Simon was lost in his thoughts. The dungeon and the people seemed to be in a mist. Everything was a blur. He vaguely heard Dawit’s orders to the crowd. His focus though was in his mind. He was close to the Sword now and it was aware of him. It filled his mind with images. There was so much information that Simon could only grasp snatches of it. He saw a great warrior. There was a huge battle, with much death and bloodshed. He felt warm, bloated, and happy. Another figure was there; he was dark and cowled. They fought. Now the dark figure held a still-beating heart in his hand, and he threw back his head and laughed. Simon saw his face. Even though he laughed, it was expressionless. It was pure white, unmarked by beard or blemish, by eyebrow or lash. The eyes were black as coal and showed no emotion. There was coldness in those eyes, colder than the heart of a glacier. Then Simon felt absolute coldness and saw the actual heart of a glacier, and even though it chilled him to the marrow it was like a blacksmith’s furnace compared with those eyes. He felt a momentary flash of hope as he saw the faces of humans, only to be dashed to despair when he saw the face of a hideous crone, with hooked nose and rotten teeth who cackled and mocked. He felt hope renewed and he knew he was the bearer of that hope. Come for me. I am ready. Together we shall be invincible. I am so weak. I must feed soon. Simon shivered with cold and felt so weak that, had he not been sitting down, he would surely have collapsed. The crowd buzzed and jostled, but they were but vague murmurs and shadows in the fog. He didn’t know how he could go on. He couldn’t even stand up. The fog parted. The crowd and his friends remained hidden in the mist. Yet, out of the fog, a figure walked, clear as on a sunny day. She was the most beautiful girl that he had ever set his eyes upon. She was tall and slim, with a tiny waist and small breasts that were falling out of a simple red gown. It had once been a beautiful dress, but now it hung in rags. Her hair was long, straight, and jet-black. When he had last seen her, it had been clean and perfumed. Now it hung in lank, greasy strands. It still framed an elfin face of such pure beauty that it made his heart lurch. Her eyes were the purest blue, shining like jewels against the milky whiteness of her skin – still evident even amongst the brown stains. Her lips were still voluptuous, despite their lack of rouge and the dry cracks that crossed them. Around her neck, she wore a simple necklace with a small silver locket that he knew contained a lock of Manfred’s hair. Simon’s heart lurched. He felt such love and joy as he had never known before. The fog cleared and he jumped to his feet and took Juliana in his arms. He held her tightly as if he never wanted to let go. “I have come back for you.” He sobbed into her hair. No! You have come back for me! She is nothing. We are the Trinity. Simon could not understand why he felt a sudden pang of jealousy. There was a new confidence about Simon. He didn’t know where it had come from, but he liked the feeling. Taran and Dawit seemed to treat him with much more respect. Jhamed was still Jhamed, but he seemed to be happy about it. Juliana melted into his arms. He liked that feeling. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, but decided that must wait until later. He stood tall and addressed the crowd. “My friends; please listen to me. I am Simon the Red.” Where the hell did that come from? I like it! “My friends and I have come to free you and release you from the yoke of the Witch Queen. Will you help us?” For a brief moment, there was silence as the words 39