The Beast Beneath Page #2

I was inspired by my dad who wrote a short story that got published last year. He got diagnosed with MS after being sick all last year.

• Fantasy
• Religion
• Spirituality & New Age
• Action and Adventure

								

Then black.
“My head.” I moaned coming out of my daze.
“Ah, so you're finally awake.”
“Lothar?”
“Yes, it's me.”
I opened my eyes. 
We were in a dark dungeon.
I bolted up and I noticed all of our company were stuck in this cage. Torches specked the dirty stone walls. 
“What happened? How long have I been out?”
Orvyn answered “Those horrid Bandits stuck us in their prison underneath their camp! It is morning now. There’s quite a lot of them.”
“They will let us go eventually. Then on our quest, we will continue. Until then we will have to be patient.” Lothar added, looking content. 
“What do you suppose they are doing? Or why haven't they killed us yet?” Crispin pondered. 
“Probably trying to get to us, making us wait so long, or maybe trying to figure out what to do with us,” I said.
We stayed in that dank prison all day, most of us growing more dejected by the hour. Except for Lothar who the Lord Almighty had blessed with a contented demeanor in this dark hour. He sang us comforting hymns and songs trying to lift our broken spirits. 
Ragged guards came for us after what felt like an eternity. They came in just as dirty as their fellowman and pushed us around. Pointing their spears at my crew and directing us up stairs to the world above.
The camp was filled to the brim with inhabitants crowding the walkways. Small stone and clay huts surrounded the paths. A fire burned to our right in a circular dirt clearing. People dressed in filthy rags and hateful glares gathered around the lush, green clearing.
When we got out we were bunched together being led to the fire. When we got closer I noticed next to it was a pile of rocks. What is this?
We stood awkwardly next to the fire while the Bandits jeered at us. A big wooden chair sat on the opposite side of us across from the flames. A scrawny old man dressed in a long black robe, like a judge, stepped up from the crowd and plopped down. His big brown eyes glared down at us with malice. 
“I am Elder Sudac, leader of the Cult of the Dragon. I will be your judge. You trespassers will be sentenced and punished!” He boomed angrily, he looked down at his people as if egging them on. 
More jeering. 
We are all going to die.
Exhaustion and despair set in.
“We start the trial! You may now speak vile outsiders.”
We instinctively let Lothar do most of the talking since he was older.
“We did not mean to trespass on your land, we did not know you were even here. Why persecute us for an unintentional mistake? We were sent on a mission by our King to fight a dragon and rescue his daughter.” 
“That means nothing to us! You think we care about your pitiful king who couldn’t even come for his own kin?!” The Elder thundered, hitting the armrests of his chair. 
“How dare you evil lil-!” Orvyn started but I quickly shushed him.
This Sudac has lost his mind, the fool will destroy our quest if not all of us with it!
“We must get back on our way soon. We would not have come if we'd known. We didn’t take or leave anything in our forest. All we did was mistakenly wander onto the soil. It could easily happen to anyone.” Lothar calmly spoke.
“Just because it could happen doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be punishment for those who break the law. Your folly will cost you, foolish wanderers!”
Orvyn was about ready to leap and pummel Sudac. Crispin and I were barely holding him back. 
“I have decided my verdict!” Sudac yelled.
Silence followed awaiting the decision of our fate.
“They are guilty and deserve death!!”
“That’s not fair! You are all mad!” Bard argued.
“We will kill only one as is the custom and we will terminate the redhead.” He screamed excitedly.
Orvyn went stiff with shock.
Not Orvyn!
The heckling and cheering of the crowds blocked out other sounds.
They are going to kill my best friend!
“No, wait! Someone yelled over the commotion.
What?
“Wait, let me take his place!”
NO!
“I’ll take his place! He’s young and still has his life ahead of him.” Lothar begged.
No, no, no, no!
Sudac gave him a sly look. 
“Okay, old man. You die.”
I peered at the others and they seemed as crestfallen as I felt.
Men and women started moving toward the rocks, picking them up and turning to Lothar.
“It’s a stoning for you.” The crazed Bandit laughed.
“They're going to kill him right now, we must do something!” I cried to Crispin.
But he was just as lost as me.
His emerald eyes shone with sadness and uncertainty.
I turned to Bard and Orvyn but each looked as shaken as Crispin and I.
There was nothing we could do, we had no weapons on us. And even if we fought back our horses were left at our camp, probably slaughtered by now.
Lothar was thrown back from the cascade of stones hitting him. …and then I couldn’t watch. He didn’t deserve this. I heard them throwing their sharp shards and taunting and mocking him. I wanted to yell at them to leave my friend alone! To let us go and to stop! But what could I do? We stood helpless as our friend slowly found peace in our Maker.
It ended about five minutes later. I turned back and watched as the evil murderers strutted back into their homes. They all left us alone as if nothing had just happened.
I turned to my friend’s broken body. We all wept for hours. We found spare tools lying around at a few houses and took our friend away to be buried. Orvyn and I carried him. On our way to our old campsite, we came across a flower field and set Lothar’s cold body on the ground. We started to dig and when the darkness in the sky began to transform into light we set him in his resting place and covered him with the floral soil. We were done by dawn. 
“On the Last Day, he will rise with the rest of the dead. Not among the flowers will he be found nor among the worms. But we will all be together that day beaming with joy and not a tear of sorrow in sight.” Bard reassured.
Our friend was not forgotten, but he could now rest.
Rest for us, in any of its forms, was not an option. We were still on a quest and we were tracking a dragon while the King was still waiting. We continued to our abandoned campsite with a renewed sense of purpose.
“What will we do when we find the loathsome thing?” Orvyn asked.
“Do you mean the dragon?” Bard spoke cheerfully.
“What do you mean ‘do you mean the dragon?’ How many loathsome things are there?”
Silence.
“Well actually there are-”
“Back to my original question?” Orvyn interjected.
“We'll probably try to overwhelm it with our skill and our cunning. If you have any cunning Orvyn.” Orvyn rode closer and playfully punched my arm.

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