The Last Summoning---Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Book Four) (7 page)

Instantly the town became alive, throbbing
with cries of laughter, and exclamations of relief. “We are saved,
SAVED!”

The townspeople gathered around the wagons
with smiling faces. Their clothes were worn, and dirty, and their
eyes were red from the wind constantly blowing sand into their
faces. They cried out in happiness, tears streaked down their
cheeks, their faces alight with new life. The wagons were instantly
surrounded as eager hands began distributing the goods to everyone
present.

“Wait! A soldier cried, slapping a woman’s
hand away from the barrel of water. “WAIT!” the soldiers voice cut
through the crowd like a bolt of lightning, instantly causing them
to cease what they were doing.

“These wagons of food and water come with a
price!” the soldier thundered. “Must I remind you that your people
came to us, asked us for help? All Morack asked in return is for
you to turn in your weapons and you will never want for food or
water again. Your men agreed to this. And furthermore, an edict has
been send through all the land, into Morack’s realms and the realm
of the great kings, that all weapons will be outlawed from this day
on, and the making of such weapons is punishable by death. There
shall be no more distributing of food or water until you have
fulfilled your end of the bargain. Do you understand?”

“Our weapons? But why?” the same man asked.
His eyes were filled with anger, and he shook his fist at the
guard. “If we give our weapons to you, how will we feed our
families, how will we protect ourselves against marauders?”

“How will you feed your families?” The
soldier let out a loud laugh. “You villagers are naïve, and stupid.
You come begging to Morack for food, and yet you say that without
what he asks, you will starve. Don’t you know that Morack and The
Fallen have vowed to protect you? From this day on you will want
for nothing. And that is a promise! If they ask for your weapons,
it is for your own good. To keep you safe. You need not question
their authority.”

“I don’t like it…” the man insisted.

“Fine!” the guard shouted, shutting the back
of the wagon. “Then, die, all of you!”

“Wait!” a frantic woman in the crowd
screamed. “Everyone, give them what they want! Please!”

“We’ll die anyway, if we don’t,” another
voice cried out.

“Yes!” another shouted. “Bring them our
weapons. We have no need of them.”

“Good!” the guard barked. “Hand over all of
your weapons and you shall have sufficient food and water for your
needs. “Quickly!”

The crowd stirred, and burbled with angry
shouts and cries. The voice of the man who had spoken out against
the idea was quickly drowned out by a hundred other, more
desperate, voices. Swords, arrows, bows, and other assortments of
weapons of various makes and sizes were quickly brought out and
handed to the guards who emptied their carts of the supplies, and
in turn, the town’s people filled the carts full of their own
weapons. Gradually, the wagons were emptied of food, and were
heaped with weapons.

Andrew watched all this with a growing
foreboding in his heart. There was little he could do to stop such
an exchange. Who was he to stop the people from receiving food and
water when they needed it so badly? Who was he to condemn these
people to certain death if they did not comply? What were swords,
compared to hunger and thirst? How very clever this plan was. He
saw, now, why The Drought had been released. By having the people
hand over their weapons, The Fallen now had full control.

How could he stop it? Once the people had
given up their weapons, there would be no summoning. There could be
no battle. It was already lost on the battlefield of thirst and
hunger. Andrew searched the crowd for that one voice who had
questioned, yet the man had disappeared into the masses. Andrew
felt desperate. His heart felt heavy. He searched inside himself
for an answer. What to do? He had no idea what he was supposed to
do now. Destroying The Shade’s trees was one thing. But to stop a
Drought, to summon the people, to awaken them---was quite
another.

“You there!” A guard shouted, pointing in
Andrew’s direction. “I said
all
the weapons. I can see your
sword hidden beneath your cape. Don’t try to hide it. Hand it over,
now!”

Andrew’s heart beat faster. He looked to
Freddie and Croffin. His eyes filled with surprise and fear.
Croffin looked as if he might run up to the soldier and hand him
his small weapon. Andrew quickly yanked him back. Andrew stood in
front of his friends, unmoving, his eyes hard, and his jaw set.

“I said, hand it in!” The soldier insisted,
looming before Andrew. “What are you waiting for? If you withhold
just one of your weapons, I won’t hesitate to take back all the
supplies we have given this village, do you understand!” His voice
had grown so loud that it had gotten the attention of the
villagers.

They all looked at Andrew and the soldier,
their faces ridden with worry. “Give it to him. Give him what he
asks!” The voices of the towns’ people were angry, and
desperate.

Andrew stood still, his eyes firm, and his
face angry. “No!”

The soldier’s face turned red with anger.
“What did you say?”

“I said no! I won’t give you my sword!”

At his words, the villagers burst into an
angry roar, and surged in around him, trying to rip his sword from
his hands.

“Freddie, Croffin, follow me!” He pushed
though the crowd. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he
raised his sword, and fought his way to the back of one of the
wagons filled with weapons, with Croffin and Freddie by his side.
Startled by this sudden burst of violence, the angry mob fell back,
mesmerized by the weapon that Andrew carried. Andrew steadied
himself on the piles of weapons and lifted up his sword, shouting
at the top of his lungs. His sword looked huge in his hands, like a
bar of lightning stuck to the end of a golden handle.

The people gasped and fell back when they saw
it. The soldiers gathered around the wagon, their eyes filled with
fire, their own weapons ready to strike.

“Stand back!” Andrew ordered, his voice thick
with anger. Sweat gleamed on his forehead, causing his hair to
stick to his face. His eyes were filled with indignation, and his
hands shook as he held the sword. Croffin and Freddie stood by him.
Fear and uncertainty shone on their faces.

Everyone looked to him, waiting, watching,
wondering.

The silence was heavy, as the heat beating
down on the crowd, pressuring him to speak. He looked into the
faces of the people. Most of their eyes showed fear; and some
looked angry. But mostly there was fear.

He held the sword high, and looked to the
soldiers. “I and my friends are strangers to this village, so do
not take your anger out on these people. We have not taken of your
supplies, so we are not bound by the same promise. However,
regardless of the dire circumstances of this village, I can no
longer sit silently by and watch as they hand in their weapons
without giving a word of caution. Oh, good villagers, if you give
up your weapons today, you will have given up your last means of
defense. Don’t you see that you must not give in! For on the day
that you do, you lose your last means of independence and you may
never get it back again!”

The people cried out in angry shouts,
swelling with fear and worry, that the soldiers might think them of
the same mind as Andrew.

“Please! Listen!” Andrew cried above the
angry crowd. “I’ve been sent here to warn you that if you do not
take a stand while there is still time, it will be too late. If you
let The Fallen rule over you, you will become a fallen people. Do
you not see, if you do not awake, and listen while there is still a
little time left, while there is still hope left, you may not be
able to take back what you have so foolishly given away for a
morsel of bread.”

“But we have no choice!” the crowd cried.

“I know,” Andrew said. “That is why I am
here. To give you a choice, where there was none.”

“Lies!” The soldiers shouted, trying to sway
the crowd. “Silence these traitors! Those who rule you have only
wanted what is best for the people. They have always given the
people their freedom, and protection, and security.”

“You are not FREE!” Andrew shouted, his voice
strong and powerful. “Have you have forgotten so quickly?”

“Free?” A soldier barked, turning to the
crowd and lifting up his hands in reassurance. “You have been
always free. Your rulers have always seen to it that you have been
free from fear, free from war, free from ignorance, free from
poverty, and even now he has sent this wagon full of food and
water, so that you will be free from hunger! This boy is a
conspirator trying to divide the people against their own
rulers!”

“No!” Andrew shouted, his voice filled with
emotion. “You are not FREE! Even a master of slaves provides food
for those who serve him. For you have sold yourselves into bondage,
and willingly, at the price of your firstborn, and the promises of
a better future. Look at yourselves. You have believed in a lie, a
great lie that has covered the world and shrouded even the sharpest
of minds with vain promises, and cheap indulgences. Do you not
remember what it was like, not so long ago? The days when you kept
what you earned, in the days when you were free to do as you sought
fit for yourselves? Do you not remember the days when speaking your
mind was not a crime? Do you not remember what it was like to be
really free? You may have gained a crust of bread, or water today,
but for what? To prolong a life of captivity?”

“We are free, you idiot!” A man shouted,
trying to pull Andrew off the wagon. “We are alive. And that is
what matters!”

“Kill them!” The guards shouted. “They speak
against their sovereigns, and will pay with their lives.”

Andrew didn’t seem to hear the guard, or the
angry shouts of the people. He quickly scanned the crowd for one
face, one hint of light. The only faces he saw were that of the
woman and child he had helped, and the man who had first spoken. It
was to those he looked, and then held up his sword. The light it
bore had grown dim, its grandeur suppressed by the angry people
gathering round him. Yet he held it proudly. “I know that you
cannot follow me now. I understand that you are hungry and thirsty.
I, too, am thirsty, and have fallen prey to the mirages that cannot
satisfy. But I know now where these mirages lead. They aren’t real.
Today he may feed you. But tomorrow he may use you for fuel. A
false trust in The Fallen will only lead to captivity. But soon,
when the Drought has been broken, you may remember my words, and
follow. Until then, I will keep charge of what you have freely
given away.”

The crowd surged in around him, trying to
pull him and his friends off the wagon. He cried out in anger, and
pushed away from the people and their grasping hands.

The wagon suddenly jerked to life as Freddie
cracked a whip against the horses at the front of the wagon. The
wagon lurched forward with a start, nearly toppling Andrew onto a
protruding spear. Andrew quickly climbed over to the front of the
wagon with Freddie, watching as the crowd of soldiers and villagers
was left far behind.

“Andrew!” Croffin howled, clambering over the
heaps of steel and iron weapons, higher into the wagon. “Look
they’re coming after us. They’re going to kill us!”

Fighting blind

The further away from Danspire they got, the drier,
and dustier it became. The green land of only a few months back had
turned a sickly brown. Trees had died. The grass had become nothing
but stalks of dry tinder.

Their horses breathed heavily in time with
the pounding of their hooves hitting the ground as if in rhythm to
some internal war dance.

Lancedon sat on his horse that Coral had
somehow managed to steal out of Morack’s stables. He held onto the
saddle horn, feeling the wind on his face. He sensed the warm sun
shining down on his skin. He could smell the sweat of the horse as
it worked hard to keep up with Coral’s horse. He leaned down and
pressed his face against the head of the horse, feeling its
powerful muscles heave back and forth as it ran. Coral had tethered
their horses together, to keep Lancedon safely by her side.

They had been keeping a steady pace all day.
He liked the feel of the wind, of the sky, the sun. To be moving,
to be working for something again, made hope touch the cloud of
darkness that had shrouded his world. Yet, even with this small
shred of hope, his inability to see caused him to feel frustrated
and dependent, like a child. He could do nothing without the aid of
his friends.

He sat tall in his saddle. His brown hair
hung in loose locks around his face. His eyes stared ahead,
unseeing and clear. Yet his face was full of passion.

The sun shone through the tall trees, bathing
the world in a relentless, inescapable heat. This was something he
did not need to see, to understand.

“Where are we going anyway?” Lancedon
asked.

Sterling brushed sweat from his brow with his
shirt sleeve, and scanned the horizon. “A grand and beautiful
place. I’m not sure if it still exists anymore. But if we can get
there, and if it is like I remember, we may find allies and
friends, people that will help us.”

Lancedon stared ahead with unblinking eyes.
“I have little hope that we have allies anywhere.”

Sterling glared at Lancedon with hard eyes.
“It is only because you cannot see. Just because you are blind does
not mean everyone else is. There are still many left. Many who will
come when the call is sounded. They, like us, are biding their
time.”

Lancedon grabbed a large strand of coarse
horse hair, and wound it up in his fingers. “What makes you think
they’ll listen to me?”