The Search

Jeremiah guided his silky black horse through the old town. This ruined collection of giant, crumbling buildings is all that remained of a civilization that no longer existed. Most people didn’t risk traveling through these sections. Chunks of these ancient structures fell to the ground frequently. But the peace was worth it. He wound his way through the haunting skeleton of the formerly great city.

Nature had overtaken this once massive place. What had been a smooth thoroughfare, was now cracked into countless, uneven pieces. Trees and weeds growing up through the road. Vines had grown up, around, and through the colossal constructions.

Often, Jeremiah desired to have seen these great centers when humans still lived in them. But that time was long gone now. Stories were told of the great war that broke out that nearly destroyed humanity. Weapons so great they destroyed huge swaths of land. Countless died. A tragic end of humanity. Yet, out of the ashes, mankind began to rebuild.

Turning, Jeremiah again had to stop. Another pathway was blocked by a fallen building. No matter, he thought, shrugging his shoulders. This just meant a bit more time here. Stretching down, he patted his steed’s muscular neck. “We’ll take it slow, Koda.”

A soft whinny was the great beast’s response. The two had a solid bond. Jeremiah won his horse in a game of chance a decade before. If he had to guess, Koda had been poorly treated. It took nearly a year before Jeremiah was able to ride him. But now, the two knew by instinct what the other would do.

Gradually, the pair made their way through the otherworldly remnants. On their left, the sun was setting. Jeremiah had lost track of time again. But, now they could see the fires of their destination, Aramoor. The biggest town in this territory, they would have what Jeremiah needed. Seeds. His family had a poor crop the previous year. If he couldn’t trade for some different seeds, they may not make it through the upcoming year.

Darkness had fallen before he reached the gates of the walled village. Mostly made of felled logs placed vertically, the city’s protection was crude but effective. It was an imposing structure. Jeremiah pounded on the rusty metal gate. The area was dimly lit with a few torches. Above the gate, a man stirred.

“Aye! What’s your business?” Shouted the man. His voice betrayed the fact he had been sleeping.

After dismounting, Jeremiah shouted in response, “I just need to trade. I’ll stay the night and then trade tomorrow.”

“We don’t abide no trouble makers. Anyone that comes here to cause problems don’t never leave. Governor Maxwell makes sure o’ that.” The guard stood for a moment, staring down at Jeremiah. His silence intended to impress the seriousness of his proclamation. “You understand that?”

“Aye,” Howled Jeremiah in return.

Standing for a moment, stewing over the decision, the dark figure grumbled something Jeremiah couldn’t hear. He ducked behind the wall and shouted. A moment later, the metal gate opened. An awful screeching sound accompanied the wall being shoved to one side. Barely large enough for Koda to fit through, the wall stopped and a shadow ushered Jeremiah in.

Taking the reigns, Jeremiah led his trusted mount into the darkness of Aramoor.

“Follow this main road,” barked the man that had opened the gate. “It’ll take you straight to the inn. There’s only one, so don’t go wanderin'.”

Walking past the man, Jeremiah nodded. While he hadn’t necessarily expected a warm welcome, this was somewhat disconcerting.

Slowly, Jeremiah and Koda made their way down the muddy road. The village was made of buildings that were cobbled together of various materials. Nothing was uniform. Every building was its own shape, height, and design. Most had a bit of light coming through their windows.

A few figures shuffled around the street. Everyone gave him crooked glances. Aramoor residents were quite suspicious of this newcomer. What was most shocking was the smell. The odor of human waste was thick in the hot night air.

Ahead, there was a single structure that was brightly lit. The walk was only about 10 minutes from the gate to the inn. In front of the crude building were some hitching posts.

“You stay here bud,” Jeremiah said gently. “I’ll be back.”

He patted the horse for a few moments to reassure the animal, his forehead to the horse’s brow. Reaching into the saddlebag, he pulled out a carrot and fed it to Koda. Jeremiah walked inside.

The bottom level of this two-story building was a tavern. It was fairly dismal. Several patrons were seated at the bar. Heads down, staring into their ale. Some tables sat empty, filling the rest of the room. Jeremiah seated himself on the stool at the end of the bar.

“What can I get you?” asked the barmaid. She was well-kept, with a beautiful, low-cut floral dress. Her blonde curls were wrapped perfectly around her face. Around her neck was a beautiful golden heart locket. It dangled playfully above her chest.

Putting on his kindest persona, Jeremiah addressed the man, “I’d like a room for the night.”

“We have one,” began the proprietor, but she was cut off.

From behind, a very large hand grabbed Jeremiah’s shoulder violently. “You’re in my seat.” Growled the deepest voice he had ever heard. Before Jeremiah could stand, the man jerked Jeremiah backward, throwing him to the wooden floor.

The other bar patrons had turned their attention to him, obviously afraid of the man. “Looks to me like you owe me a drink,” He demanded. Jeremiah had never seen such a brute.

Taken aback, Jeremiah answered, “Sir, I’m sorry I sat in your seat.” He was doing his best to deescalate the situation. “But I just don’t have the extra coin to purchase any drinks.”

The sweet voice of the young barmaid interjected, “Come on Jack, just let him go. The next one’s on me.”

“No! This one offended me!” He was standing over Jeremiah, pointing. “He owes me.”

Bending over, Jack picked up Jeremiah, lifting his feet off the ground. “You gonna buy me a drink? Or not?”

Jeremiah swallowed hard. “I can’t.”

Raising his fist overhead, the ogre of a man swung hard at Jeremiah’s face.

Darkness

Waking up, Jeremiah opened his eyes. “Where am I?” He asked nobody in particular. Then the pain hit. His head began throbbing, and his eye wouldn’t open. Reaching up and touching it, it stung badly. Immediately, Jeremiah recognized that he was in a small jail cell, sitting on a makeshift cot.

“Well, look who’s finally up!” Came a voice that Jeremiah didn’t recognize. “We haven’t had the pleasure. My Name is Governor Maxwell.”

The governor walked over to stand just outside the metal door. “I run this here town and most of the district. Aramoor is the capital of my little territory.”

His clothing was very nice and appeared to be pressed. Raising his hand up, Maxwell began to stroke his clean-shaven chin while pacing back and forth. “I try my hardest to keep my towns nice, and most importantly, to keep them free of riffraff. Any stranger that starts trouble in my town, well . . .” and he let the thought trail off.

“I didn’t start trouble,” Jeremiah protested. “That giant freak started this!”

Shaking his head, the Governor said, “Well, that’s not what Jack, or the others that were there said. We got ourselves a few witnesses that all say the same thing. You were the problem.”

“That’s a lie!” Jeremiah shouted.

The governor’s pleasant tone changed instantly. “Enough! I have enough information. Tomorrow, you will be sold to one of the local traders.”

“The hell I am!”

“Your choices are as follows. One, you can be sold to work. Or two, we’ll hang you. I’ll give you till mornin’ to choose.” Governor Maxwell turned to walk away. “Too bad your horse disappeared. I could of used a new steed.”

“Wait!” Screamed Jeremiah. “Come back here. Let me out!”

Jeremiah shook furiously at the solid metal bars. It was no use and he knew it. But, he was frantic and didn’t know what to do. His wife and his daughter needed him to make it home with the seeds. If Jeremiah didn’t make it home, they would probably die. Or become slaves themselves.

Turning, trying to think of something to do, Jeremiah kicked the cot across the small cell.

“I told ya not to be makin' trouble.” This voice came from the front part of the building. But Jeremiah recognized it. It was the same voice that shouted from the top of the gate.

“Please,” he begged, “You gotta let me go. I’ll leave town right away and never come back. I have a wife and daughter. They need me.” He was desperate. “Please.”

Instead of sympathy, the guard just laughed. “I ain’t lettin' you go. They’d sell me in your place if I did. Now, I’m gonna take a nap. You wake me up and I might just cut a part of you off to keep an' remember ya by.”

“Damnit!” Jeremiah cried. “Let me out!”

Quicker than Jeremiah had thought possible, this guard was by the cell door, causing Jeremiah to back away a few steps. Pulling a huge knife from its leather sheath hanging from his belt, he pointed the blade directly at Jeremiah.

“This is yer last warnin',” the guard breathed menacingly.

Replacing the knife in its sheath, he returned to the other room.

Jeremiah set the cot back up, sat down. His mind raced, trying to come up with any solution to this dire situation.

Hours passed. Eventually, the daylight was nearly gone and Jeremiah was no better off than before. There was nothing for Jeremiah to do but wait for his cruel fate. It crushed him to think about never seeing his wife or daughter again. All he could do was imagine their faces, their voices. A single tear streaked down his filthy cheek.

“Hello!” Came the chipper sweet voice of the barmaid. “I brought you something.”

“Well that’s mighty fine of you miss,” the guard replied. “I am a bit peckish.”

Unable to see exactly what was happening, it sounded like she had brought him some food and drink. Craning his neck, Jeremiah struggled to see through the doorway, to no avail.

“Well, you eat up,” said the young woman as sweetly as sugar. “Then I’ll take these dishes back and be outta your hair.”

It didn’t take long, just a few minutes, and the guard had finished whatever she brought him.

Then, the man grumbled, shouted, and fell hard to the floor.

A moment later, the barmaid came through the doorway, keys in hand. She was a sight for sore eyes, golden locket bouncing as she walked. “We have to hurry.” She said, putting the key in the lock. “I know Jack was the problem.” Throwing the cell door open, the two walked to the front of the jailhouse. Laying lifeless on the floor was the guard. There was a little blood dripping from his mouth.

“Hurry,” She said.

By the time they got outside, it was dark. Waiting in front of the building was Koda.

Jeremiah contained his excitement, though his joy was plain on his face. The barmaid smiled. “I knew what they would do to him. So I hid him for you.”

His savior led the pair through back alleys where there were no people, to a much smaller locked gate with no guards. Taking out the guard’s keys she had stolen, she unlocked this gate.

“Go,” she said. “Before they find us. I will be fine.”

“I don’t know what to say, thank you,” Said Jeremiah, forever grateful for her bravery.

Speechlessly, she smiled with a glint in her eye.

Jeremiah mounted Koda and rode off into the moonlight.

“Well Koda,” said Jeremiah, “I guess we’ll keep searching.”