The Staff of Ramah

By T. Alan Martens

A nameless woman wakes from a terrifying dream that has haunted her for her entire life. She is locked in a prison of her own shame and regret, made worse by the cold cell of stone enclosed around her. Broken and alone, her miserable world is changed by the visitation of a white eyed stranger. Great mystery surrounds this grey robed man but what he asks to do offers her the hope of change. Is there hope in this world? Can a woman who has only known sin and shame be changed for the better?
An unlikely group of companions embark on a perilous journey to reclaim a holy relic of power that has been hidden far too long from a world in need of healing. If they survive, they will never be the same, and neither will the broken land of Terros.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T. Alan Martens
• Release date: Jun 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301472345

T. Alan Martens

Born in Cranbrook B.C. Canada in 1968. Lifelong fan of fantasy writing. Lives in central Saskatchewan where long winters give much time indoors for writing. Married since 1990 and the proud father of two young boys.

Book preview

Prologue

Long before there was time itself and before the world was made, there was Eternal Ya. He created the shining ones to worship him and do his bidding. They were lovely spirit beings, full of pure light. Longing for more, he created the world we know as Terros. Being a beautiful and glorious deity, he took great care in making this world a great place of awe and wonder. Deep expansive seas, snow peaked mountains and lush forests filled the valleys that were a home for winding streams of fresh water. Once he had formed the entire planet in its great expanse, he filled it with all kinds of animals. He made birds to grace the skies and beasts to roam the vast fields. Fish of all sizes and shapes flourished in the sparkling waters. Ya marveled at the graceful symmetry of his new world, yet something was missing. Not wanting to enjoy this wondrous creation with his shining ones alone, he brought forth mankind to share it with him. He charged mankind with the care of this new world and gave them reason and a will to choose how they should live. All mankind marveled at their creator and worshiped him with love and freedom.

But Belial, the brightest of all the shining ones, was not content to leave this magnificent creation for mankind to rule; he wanted the new world for his own. Sensing the ill intent of Belial, Ya cast the rebel spirit out of his presence and the fallen one took many of the shining ones with him, descending to the planet below. In their cursed state they became known as Taints, forever exiled from the presence of Ya. No longer bright and lovely shining creatures, they became a dark horde of evil spirits. Seeing that the Eternal One would not let him have Terros for his own, Belial sought to spread abomination and ruin among the people who had been granted this creation instead of him. Through the help of the taints, hatred and destruction soon spread around the whole of the world before the Fallen One’s burning and hateful eyes.

Ya, however, loved his dear children, so he called forth the man Gaost to be his holy Cleric. Gifted with the holy power of Ya, Gaost was sent on a mission to discover a healer for the people, a helper that could aid the Cleric in the fight against Belial and his evil minions. He searched the world for one suitable, but the task was daunting. There were so few children of Terros that still worshiped the Eternal Ya. After many long years of searching, Gaost finally found the child of promise, a little girl born to a poor farm family on the outskirts of Jeru. Her name was Yeshu. Yeshu’s family were still true followers of Ya and had been praying faithfully every day for a child, having waited many years. As the young girl grew into womanhood, the holy Cleric of Ya was able to observe her growth and help with her training. On the evening of Yeshu’s 19th birthday, Ya came to her in a dream. My beloved chosen daughter, said Ya You are to be my holy agent of healing in this broken world. When you rise up, take with you my Cleric, Gaost to the rose patch behind your father’s house. There I will show the path I have chosen for you. When Yeshu awoke that morning she immediately did as Ya had asked. The morning sun began to appear over the horizon and she slowly approached the large wall of roses that entwined the fence in the back yard, Gaost standing close behind. Having also received instruction from Ya in a dream, the Cleric asked her to reach out into the middle of the thorny patch of deep red roses. As soon as her hand touched the delicate petals, the wall of thorns sprang to life. Sharp claws from the thorny vines reached out and grabbed her arm, digging in deeply. She cried out in pain as her whole hand was pulled into the writhing patch, her warm red blood dripping down her elbow. Gaost spoke reassuring words to stave off the panic that was building in her soul. Soon the pain began to diminish and she could see the form of a smooth wooden rod shaping amongst the thorns. Thorns began to drop off all around her throbbing hand, and soon she was able to pull it free. Moments later, she stood there with a meticulously crafted staff, engraved with wooden roses. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

With this holy relic, formed by the power of Ya himself, Yeshu went from city to town, spreading the loving god’s healing power. Great minions of Belial tried to slow her at every turn, but the mighty cleric, Gaost was always there with the white fire of Ya to destroy them. Seeing that his plans of destruction were being thwarted at every turn, Belial raised up his own disciple to seek out and kill Yeshu. One dark evening while Yeshu lay sleeping, this disciple of Belial killed her in a fitful rage of fire and stole the holy rod from her lifeless hand. Gaost returning from a journey, wailed with anger when he found her charred body. Belial, unable to destroy the staff of Ramah, as it came to be called, hid the fateful relic of healing in a deep dark tomb, guarded by his invisible minions. In time, the healing power of Ya was forgotten in the land and darkness thrived once again. Now only the legends speak of a strange white eyed man who wanders the land, searching for some sign of hope.

From the Terros book of legends vol. 1

***

Chapter 1

The nameless woman awoke from the same dream she had had for as long as she could remember; a nightmare. There was no escape from the dark ones that ceaselessly chased her through a deep and endless forest. She could feel their cold wet claws digging into her very soul while on and on she ran, till she came to the opening of a menacing stone tomb. Plunging into its black maw she hoped to find refuge, yet on the evil spirits came with relentless fury. A dim light at the end of the cold wet passage gave some direction but little hope. She knew that she must get to the light but did not know why. What was there?

She awoke with a scream. Waking to reality from this terrible dream gave little comfort to the young woman as she pulled her torn clothing closer around herself in a vain attempt to warm up. She wiped the cold sweat off her brow and remembered all too quickly that she actually was in a cold, dark stone tomb of sorts. A musty prison cell had been her home, on and off for most of her young life. Good a place as any for the likes of me, she thought. At least in prison, she got a regular meal, even if it was only stale bread and warm water. The guard was a decent sort of man for once too. Usually the guards would force her to give favors that only someone in her profession normally would. Being beaten and used was the only way of life she had right now.

A shout came out from the small window in her cell door. Whore, there is someone here to see you.

That name she knew all too well.

I’m very busy at the moment she mocked. Tell the warden that I will make him an appointment for next year some time.

It’s not the warden, and you are not earning yourself any favors by being so mouthy.

Who is it? she asked. It was not like she had any family that would be coming to bail her out or even give her some decent clothes to replace the filthy torn prison rags that she wore.

Never gave his name; just wants to talk. I would be nice if I was you.

There was a popping sound as the lock turned and the door creaked open to reveal this mysterious stranger. He wore a dark grey robe with a large hood that covered him head to toe, but she could still tell the man was very thin, and most likely, very old. All she could see clearly were his piercing white eyes, glowing like the moon when it hovers over the surface of calm water. She immediately looked away from his penetrating gaze and shuddered as she thought to herself; he can see right through me. If she felt exposed before, now she felt completely naked in this man’s calm yet powerful presence.

You are well I hope? he asked with a quiet, wispy voice.

Again the sarcasm came freely as it always did for her. I’m great, never been better. I’ve only been raped three times this week by the guards. It would seem that Galvin here doesn’t have a thing for my type.

He showed no reaction and her harsh words did not seem to have any kind of impact on his calm demeanor. She was good at playing this game. Her caustic language was a comfort to her, a shield to hide that small part inside her where there might actually be some feelings left.

The man continued on is his calm voice. I have a proposal for you. I will pay all of your outstanding fines if you will agree to accompany me on a trip.

Interesting, she thought. Are you telling me that you will pay the thirty silvers that the crooked warden thinks I owe him, just to get a companion? I’m not so sure you understand what kind of company I usually provide.

There had to be more to this man than appeared on the surface. He looked like some sort of priest or holy man so what would he want with a prostitute? Sure, she had given her services to so called churchmen before, but there was something quite different about this man’s demeanor.

I know full well what it is you do for your meager living, Rose. I am here to purchase you, as it were, but the choice is still yours.

Rose. It was a long forgotten name she had not heard since she was a little girl living in the rundown orphanage here in the city of Sharron. She had only heard it for the first 15 years of her life, as it was a name given to her by the holy mothers who raised her. Perhaps she was so named because of the full head of bright red hair that now hung in clumps around her dirty and bruised face.

"You are a beautiful girl my little Rose, but you always seem to prick those around you with your thorns." This is what mother Eunice would say to her. She could not even remember any other name other than Rose, so it had stuck with her. Since leaving the orphanage at a young age she lived without a name of any kind, other than the cruel titles given to those of her trade.

I see you have been talking to Mother Eunice. I have not been called Rose for a very long time.

Sad to say, the dear mother Eunice died many years ago. the man replied, As a result, finding you was very difficult. If you wish me to use another name I can. Would you prefer the rude names given to you by all the others I have spoken to in my search for you?

The woman thought deeply for a moment. For some strange reason this seemed like an important decision. Was she to be called whore for the rest of her life? Somewhere deep in the recesses of her soul, Rose still believed that she could come out of this prison of pain.

Rose is just fine. Remember though, I may be nice to look at, but I can make you bleed if you touch. She said theses words as if spitting in his face, yet he seemed once again unfazed by her foul speech.

Rose, I will need an answer. I wish to hire you for an indeterminate amount of time. I will pay your fines, and I want you to accompany me on a journey.

This seemed to be a simple enough job on the surface, but she was still sure there was more to it.

Where are we going?

I can’t tell you that right now. He said. Give it some thought if you wish. I will return tomorrow at this time and ask you again.

Why were you searching for me? Are there no other girls on the street that suit your fancy?

No more questions he replied rather firmly. Tomorrow you will decide one way or the other. Goodbye Rose. And just like that, he was gone.

***

The mysterious man left the prison and walked with a steady pace down the streets of the port city, Sharron. It was a rundown and seemingly godforsaken town that had few endearing qualities. Brothels and taverns where prominent here and so was reveling in the streets. As he passed the largest inn in town he was nearly knocked over by a stumbling patron. Shcuse me father. Never shaw you there. the man slurred, obviously drunk. He was just one of many men that were drunk at ten in the morning that day. Knowing there was nothing he could do to help at the moment, the robed man hurried on down the street to his destination. He finally arrived at the old dilapidated building that was his temporary home. It was the remains of the Temple of Ya that had long since been forgotten. There were other temples in Sharron that had a working priesthood, but the Eternal Ya was no longer worshiped openly in the land. As he entered, he went straight to the altar, fell on his knees and began to weep.

Father, I need your help. The one you have chosen is not at all what I expected. How can you use such a one for so important a task? Are there no others? There are so few left who follow your ways and I fear that I may lose all hope.

On and on he cried out to his God until he finally drifted off to sleep right there on the altar. As the single candle burned itself out, he began to dream.

Ya appeared before him in all his holiness and splendor.

My son, fear not. Is there anything too difficult for me? Sleep well this night, for I will lead you and the Chosen One down the path I have set. It will not be an easy path, but this you already know well. I will sustain you. I will be your guide. I will be your strength. Fear not my son.

***

Rose very quickly began to regret her decision to wait in answering the robed man. That night when the guards changed and Galvin went home to his family, others came who had no qualms about taking what they wanted from a captive prostitute. Once they had had their way with her, she crumpled up in the corner; lay on the side that was least bruised and began to shiver. She thought to herself, if I leave with this stranger, at least I may have a chance to escape. I could head to some other city, Jeru maybe. Living conditions may not be much better there, but at least the soldiers in that city would know nothing of her reputation. Maybe she could even get a job as a maid or barkeep. As she drifted off to sleep, she once again dreamed of dark forests, clawing hands in dank tombs, and this time, of a strange hooded man with dimly glowing eyes.

***

Chapter 2

The next morning came just the same as all the others in Rose’s life; cold and alone. The day seemed to drag on forever as she was lost in her thoughts. Who is this man? What is this man? There was some kind of soft and comforting way about him, yet those eyes…

Those glowing eyes took her apart inside. As she saw it, her only hope was to take him up on his offer, strange as it was, and try to escape.

A harsh bang on the door startled her from the restless thoughts.

Back off and make room for a visitor, you worthless sow! said the guard.

The ghost like figure, from the day before moved quietly into the room. Leave us please. he said to the guard. This time the man pulled back his hood to reveal a rather kind face. His dull black hair was cropped short and marked with patches of grey to match his scruffy beard. The brightness in his eyes was still there but the glow seemed less eerie when his hood was off.

This one has a mean bite, said the guard, I would be careful if I was you.

I will be fine constable.

The guard left, but not before spitting on Rose and sneering, Be a good dog, or I will make you regret it later.

Sadness seemed to sweep over the strange man’s face as he asked, Have you thought more of my proposal, Rose?

Last night’s abuse was more than enough motivation for her to accept, but she still had one question. I will accept, but under one condition. What is your name?

He pondered the question for a moment, as if he would be revealing too much if he told her.

She impatiently chided, Do you not have a name? ‘Cuz I will not be calling you master or anything like that. You know my name, even if no others do, so I want to know yours.

You can call me Brother Joshua. Will that do?

Brother Josh it is then, and yes, I will accept your deal.

He paused a moment with his brow furrowed, as if he was surprised at her response.

"Do you fully understand that I will need you for an unforeseen amount of time and you will not know where we are going at first?

What do I care? It’s not like I have so much to do here do I?

Very well then, I will go and make the arrangements for your release.

As Joshua left the cell, she could not help but wonder what she had got herself into. One part of her felt that there was something very compelling about this man. She wanted to know what he was all about. Mostly though, this was simply a decent enough opportunity to get out of this miserable hole and make a run for it. She would have to choose the time of her escape carefully of course. If she ran too soon he would no doubt just report her, and she would be right back in prison again.

Soon the guard returned and they left the prison building, but not before the guard took one last chance to call her some foul name and gesture rudely at her.

So, where to now Josh? Rose asked as she followed him down the street.

Brother Joshua is fine, please. he said with a frown. We are going to my place to pick up some things.

Why the sad face Josh? You got what you wanted. I am your woman for the time being. Am I not all you hoped for in a lady friend?

He responded in a voice that was colored with sadness, If you wish to know the truth, I am rather disturbed by the way you let those guards treat you; as if you are a worthless slave. Do you not get tired of being treated that way?

"And how is what you are doing any better brother Josh. You have just purchased a prostitute. Is being your slave gonna be any better?"

He sighed and was quiet for a moment before responding. "I regret having to purchase you, but it was the only way I could persuade you