Seed of Reason: Purity Series Part Two

By Gavin Mills

There is a legend in the ancient lands of the Great North West that has passed down for generations from father to son. It speaks of a youth with bad blood who will embark on a quest to quell the rising fog and save creation. And it is said the legend will reveal itself when the world of man becomes threatened and the time is right.
...Now more than ever before, terrible forces mount, ready to destroy the tenuous New Order created so many years before by Rezden visionary architect of change, and close friend Maxmillian Grace. And now, as the world flounders in the clutches of evil incarnate, it is time for the legend to re-emerge, ...but will it lead to redemption or damnation? Can and will there ever be a Seed of Reason?

After the rains stay away and the weather changes - as a result, many believe, of the growing fog being spewed out by the Megacity - Joss is forced to make the decision no farmer ever should: stay and face disaster if the weather doesn't change, or abandon the peace and tranquility of life in the Great Valley and head for Horizen, once the birthplace of Rezden's bright New Order, but more recently better known to the common folk as the seat of Gradlock, evil incarnate, and his devious Supreme Council.

Arriving at the Megacity with his unhappy family, Joss immediately realises with horror that they have made the wrong decision. He is forced to join the other men of Horizen slaving for Gradlock and his corrupt system, while Sarah does her best to turn their new hovel into a home. Then within only a matter of days, Purity, adopted baby daughter found abandoned in the Netherwoods, becomes desperately ill. Some say it is because of the filth and squalor, but Gilbert knows the truth when learns of an ancient legend about a young man with bad blood who sets out to save his sister, and in so doing, save mankind.
Gilbert knows he has bad blood and becomes convinced he is the young boy - the one spoken of in the ancient fable. So with a ragtag bunch of unlikely heroes, he sets out on an epic quest to find the elusive seed of reason.

Meanwhile in the megacity, life is becoming untenable and the cruelty of Gradlock to both man and beast, knows no bounds. On learning that a child with bad blood has set out to find the seed of reason, Gradlock turns his rage on the parents of the young man with bad blood. Meanwhile word spreads like wildfire, of the quest of the unlikely heroes to find the seed of reason - what far too many believe is their only chance of ever once again seeing the light.

Then a child dies under the hooves of Gradlock's horse and carriage, and the despot shows no remorse. It is the last straw. But can the fabled seed of reason really bring salvation where there is no longer hope? Gilbert knows destiny lies in his hands, along with the lifeblood of his ailing baby sister and that of his parents. But the perils are great, the road ahead arduous, and the situation dire. For well Gilbert, his parents, and even Gradlock knows, 'When there is nothing left to live for, it is easy to die for something.'

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gavin Mills
• Release date: Dec 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370781386

Gavin Mills

Gavin Mills was born in the little town of Springs in South Africa where he attended school at St Brendan’s Christian Brother’s College. After school he had no clear idea what he wanted to do with his life. Engineering sounded good, so he applied and was accepted by the University of the Witwatersrand to study Chemical Engineering. When that didn’t work out, he did two years military service becoming a 2nd lieutenant and serving as transport officer for 52 Battalion out of Ogongo in Namibia in the late ‘70s.Coming out of the army, he went into computers as a programmer and later a systems analyst before giving up corporate to become a professional dancer, performing first in SA and later in London, Paris, Spain and Portugal - some of the highlights being principal dancer in Moulin Rouge Paris, Scala in Spain and Canary Islands, and Estoril Casino in Lisbon.On returning to South Africa, he performed in the first Miss World Pageant at Sun City in 1992, falling in love with Miss Hungary, who would return to South Africa two years later to become his wife. They have been together ever since, have two sons and live in Johannesburg. Whenever not writing or working, Gavin gets his kicks enjoying quality time with close friends and those most precious to him, his family.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Dark Horisons

Gilbert was jostled awake by the hard wood of the wagon digging into his side each time they hit a bump. He had no idea when he dropped off or how long he slept. He only remembered the darkness all around, and the unnatural silence.

His mother and Purity were still asleep in the wagon and his father was where he had been since their departure - facing the front, quietly steering Toby towards the city. He could half recall other wagons joining them all through the night, and squinting into the glare of the rising sun, became aware that they were now in a procession stretching fore and aft as far as the eye could see.

Although the sun was oppressively hot, it was masked. The same as when it shone through clouds. But these were not clouds. The sky was a yellow-brown haze, deepening in colour towards the horizon ahead. It was as if everything was a different shade of the same colour of hopelessness.

Gilbert was not used to seeing the world like this. Far ahead, at the limit of his vision was a dark unnatural shape he could not quite make sense of in the deepening smog.

Papa, we have entered the fog.

I know my son, I know.

The broken trail they had been following had become a wide well worn road. Gilbert had heard before of the wide roads leading to the megacity, but he had no idea they were this grand.

It was eerily quiet considering the number of wagons and families. …The only sounds, the squeaking of wheels and the occasional exclamation from an exhausted mule.

The shape in front of them loomed larger, closer. A dark, dirty blue-grey with streams of black smoke rising from it. Papa, is that the city?

Yes my son. Joss’s voice betrayed his thoughts.

As they inched closer the city took on form, holding them awestruck by the sheer magnitude; too amazed to look away, too afraid to speak, too sad to cry, too desperate to turn back.

Horizen was encircled by a massive stone wall, towering above the cleared land outside stretching to the surrounding thickets. Directly ahead a giant iron and timber gate was dwarfed by a menacing arch which looked to Gilbert like a monstrous snake about to strike.

Flanking the arch were two formidable towers with small windows all the way up, lit like demon eyes …And assaulting the silence, an incessant rumble. As if the city suffered.

Somewhere beyond, they heard the tortured grind of metal on stone as the gates opened outwards to reveal to most, their first glimpse of the megacity.

It was grey, oppressive and dirty, by far the largest city most had ever seen - and the stink, like dirty feet and wet dogs, was nauseating.

What is that smell papa? Gilbert called from inside the wagon where he was helping Elizabeth with Purity.

His father never answered, and then Gilbert knew: it was fear.

Gilbert clambered out joining his father at the reins. A troop of what appeared to be monstrous men on horses came charging towards them from the gates. He squinted into the morning glare as the horsemen approached.

Never in his life had he seen such ugly creatures. They were as tall as two men and wider than a barrel. Thick mattered brows hung low over bloodshot eyes in mottled flesh above hairy nostrils; beards like wire and wrinkled necks. They had arms like tree trunks and calloused hands ending in stubby fingers with filthy broken nails.

The terror was clear in the eyes of horses straining under their weight as the ghastly creatures moved from carriage to carriage, scrutinizing all heading for the city. Every so often, an unlucky soul was wrenched from a wagon. The lucky ones were thrown back into the throng, but some wretched souls were taken – sometimes with family – and tossed into dark cattle wagons that entered the gates when full - and returned empty.

Dear lord, Elizabeth, they’re trolls, whispered Joss.

Trolls don’t exist, Joss.

Silence! snarled the biggest in a harsh, guttural voice. We do not exist? Then I must be your worst nightmare. I will tell you once and you will never forget…

He dismounted and sauntered over to the wagon, lifting the side tarpaulin and leaning in. Thick yellow saliva dripped from a festering mouth with breath of decay, I am McMalice, …and these my men, of the clans McFear, McGreed, McEnvy and McHate. Welcome to Horizen, seat of the New Order – and retreat to the damned

The trolls exploded into laughter. Rasping, snorting, insane cackles sending shivers up their spines.

Greetings, I am Joss of…

Silence you pathetic little man! Do you presume we care? Move, move! What kind of a pathetic mule is that? The trolls all turned hungrily on Toby.

Leave him be! A small voice came from the wagon.

Elisabeth moved to muffle Purity, but it was too late. McMalice stopped and turned back towards the voice, seeing the little girl held fiercely by her mother.

See here… What a delicacy! She’ gorgeous? May I eat her ma’am? The troll lowered his head, smelling Purity hungrily.

Elisabeth snapped like a frightened puppy.

Stay away from my child!

Alarmed and scared Joss leapt in front of her. A long, wiry troll was at his neck, breathing putrid sulfurous breath into his face.

Back you vermin! In here you are my dog and I eat dogs, …so shut up and kneel before me – or so help me I’ll suck the juices from your skull and feed your eyes to my pigs!

McFear, leave them be… He will learn his place soon enough. It was the large troll called McMalice again. Now get them inside!

Then McMalice spotted Gilbert, tucked behind his father’s arm. He stopped dead and stared, drilling deeply into Gilbert’s eyes. The boy was terrified. He saw something in this hideous creature that he could not quite understand. A presence….

Abruptly McMalice turned on his heel and gave the order to move on.

Such was the welcome for new arrivals to Horizen the megacity, vision of Rezden and home of his New Order.

We have made a mistake, my love, whispered Joss.

It was the first time in his life that Gilbert had ever heard fear in his father’s voice.

CHAPTER TWO

The Belly of the Beast

The gates thundered shut behind them, blocking out the afternoon sun as an ostentatious carriage, appearing entirely of gold, trumbled towards them from the inner city.

Frenzied wolves, growling and slobbering, were harnessed to the front with silver chains. Standing on a platform in front was a small bony man in a long black coat, stringy black hair pulled tightly to the back of his head. His eyes were like black beads and his long, pointed nose looked translucent blue against his ghostly pale skin. Thin black lips formed a frozen smile as he eyed the convoy, hands clasped before him exposing impossibly thin fingers ending in long, sharp nails.

Silence! McMalice screamed the order. Hail Gradlock, Head of the Supreme Council!

Everyone around stopped what they were doing, and bowed their heads. There was silence - except for the incessant rumbling which seemed to permeate this strange new world.

When he spoke, his voice was like dry ice. New friends… Welcome! Welcome to Horizen, the answer to your prayers. Please… Come with us! You will have no need for your wagons. We trust you have come here for new beginnings, a better life… McGreed? Burn them and get rid of those mangy mules. They fester with disease.

He strutted down the line of wagons, slowing every now and then to cast his eyes on a terrified new arrival. Arriving at Joss standing with his family, he stopped and turned towards them.

Welcome… his smiled at Joss through red glazed eyes.

It was like being stabbed in the face. First the intense pain, then dull scratching behind the eyes, as though he could feel Gradlock inside his head.

…Joss - and your beautiful family, Elizabeth, Purity and…

Gradlock stopped. He stared at Gilbert, eyes gleaming with concentration. He could not reach within. The boy’s name alluded him.

Suddenly in a rage, he lunged forward and gripped Gilbert’s arm: What is your name, lad?

He felt a desire to squeeze the life from the child but resisted, intrigued.

Gilbert, answered the terrified boy, his arm immediately discolouring under the pressure of Gradlock’s bony grip.

It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man…, he hissed, releasing his grip and turning to McMalice.

Do keep an eye on this one... He is …precious - I would hate anything …untoward to happen to him. The look in his eyes would have flayed the skin off a brave man.

Gradlock climbed back onto the carriage and turned with a flourish to face the subdued gathering of new arrivals: I am exceptionally pleased to invite you to Horizen. Please, if you encounter things not to your pleasing, feel free to speak. Our duty is to all our citizens – all of you - and I hope and trust you will enjoy your new life here with us. The gracious McMalice and his esteemed cohort will show you to your new homes shortly. Please remember that levies will be collected each month on the day following full moon. Thank you. And he was gone.

The trolls dragged protesting families from their wagons, discarding their belongings to the ground. All the wagons were assembled quickly into procession and steered towards one of the dark side streets.

Gilbert squealed in horror as McHate dragged the protesting Toby in the same direction, but no one else spoke a word. All were too terrified to protest. Not one person of the families that had entered the city dared voice a challenge.

Joss and his silent family were led through a maze of damp, smelly streets lined by houses stacked almost on top of each other. Every now and then sullen faces appeared behind half closed windows and derelict doors. Dilapidated structures loomed precariously over the rough cobbled street.

Every so often someone would empty a bucket into the street, the filth running freely into cobble paving cracks before seeping into the steaming blackness of the sewers. Although not one house was exactly the same as the rest, they all smelt the same – damp and dirty.

Zigzagging deeper and deeper into the bowels of Horizen, it suddenly dawned on Gilbert: Not one plant! Nothing but battered decay and malignant filth.

Please sire, you move too fast, Joss pleaded with McMalice, lumbering ahead. He and Gilbert were struggling under the weight of the few possessions they were allowed.

On entering the city Purity had experienced an excruciating bout of coughing, and Elizabeth was carrying her, gasping with the exertion and falling behind.

McMalice turned blood-shot eyes on the struggling woman.

Is this why we wait? …Gesturing to the miserable child on her mother’s arm.

For this?

He grabbed Purity savagely by the scruff of her neck and ripped the child from her mother’s grasp, holding her aloft much the way one would a puppy.

Elizabeth stood dead still and spoke quietly, but her eyes projected murder through her fear.

Give me my child or I will have your eyes, she hissed.

McMalice hesitated. …Studied her thoughtfully.

My eyes…?

The other trolls were watching him.

Might be a trade worth considering, he scoffed, but maybe on some other day… Here! Have your wretched mouse, tossing the limp Purity to Elizabeth like a rag doll.

Joss frowned as he turned back towards their heading. A cruel and frightening creature no doubt, but was that fear or sympathy in his voice? Whatever, Joss was thankful the moment had passed leaving all unscathed.

There was more traffic now. More carts, people, industry. Even hints of frivolity. Suddenly, a dog came charging around a corner and knocked Gilbert nearly off his feet.

Stupid child! shouted the dog and carried on running. Joss dropped his burden in an instant and sprinted to Gil’s aid. He lifted his son and hugged him protectively... The trolls bellowed with laughter.

I’m OK Papa. …I’m fine.

Gilbert wrestled free and started picking up his scattered load.

I’m fine. Really.

They passed under a stone arch and stopped in amazement. Before them, hoards of people hollered and jostled, this way and that. …A space of trade, a space of recreation. A grand promenade. A space where almost a half century before, Maxmillian had sworn an oath to Fletch that an ancient well would be conserved, for the free citizens of the New Order.

Running the full length of the square, grand buildings rose behind grandiose arches. Buildings which they would later learn, were the seats of state, the Supreme Council, and all those at the helm of commerce, trade and industry. And there, centre stage and dominating all was the Clock Tower, …thick, high, overwhelming; with massive copper clock ticking away the days one second at a time.

But in spite of the grand testaments to man’s genius and innovation, that which caught - and held - all their attention was the tree. A single oak tree, stood just off centre beside the well. The only vestige of nature they had seen since entering the gates. The only sign of nature they would see at all in the megacity of Horizen.

It was an old tree, with rugged branches and hard leaves. In front of the tree was an ironwood bench - and the ancient stone well.

The well was beginning to show early signs of neglect. But in spite of appearance, there was a strange … presence. Gilbert staggered. The energy from the well as he faced it was like a physical force.

Purity suddenly woke on Elizabeth’s shoulder and manoeuvred impatiently for a view. She frowned for a second, and then her sleepy eyes twinkled into a glorious smile. She giggled with glee, waving towards the old well.

McMalice glanced at the gurgling child, and followed the subject of her attention.

Insanity starts young in these times, he scowled. Move! Time is wasted.

A tall dark woman with dark eyes and disturbing presence sauntered towards them from the Clock Tower.

I have the keys to your dwellings. She was obviously bored with her lot in life. However, it was welcome relief from the troll’s aggression. Joss lowered his eyes as he took the keys.

Why were the trolls in such good spirits, …anticipation? ‘What scheming do they know of - that we are as yet unaware…?’ Joss was thinking.

Giggling hysterically the trolls converged on the family like hyenas, grabbing from them what little they had left of value.

Empty your pockets! McMalice growled, obviously displeased with the meagre takings.

My lord, Joss tried to protest.

I am not your lord! Come to me!

McMalice grabbed the man’s sleeve, pulling him off balance. Joss was bewildered by the incredible force and strength of the troll. Before he could respond, McMalice ripped and the hip pocket of his old weathered jacket was no more. A small package, neatly wrapped and bound in fresh linen, dropped to the rough stone sidewalk.

Joss lunged to retrieve it, but McMalice, moving with a dexterity belied by his size and weight lunged, locking the man’s head in a vice like grip.

Not in front of my children. I beg of you. He pleaded, truly believing the troll was going to crush his skull and spill his brains. He could not believe the incredible strength.

Take it. It is yours, but unhand my father, Gil screamed, picking up the package and offering it to McMalice. Amused, McMalice studied him for a second before releasing his grip and surprisingly delicately, reaching for the trinket.

Now what have we here… McMalice looked even more menacing when he smiled. Shifting beady eyes from one to the other, he picked at the acquisition, growing in frustration at the futility of his efforts."

Please sire. It is of no value to you but immeasurable sentimental significance to me, Joss pleaded.

Be quiet you pitiful little man! he barked, turning to Gil. You! Unveil this secret your father so treasures – and need I suggest you take care? We would not wish to tarnish whatever treasure it might contain.

Hands heavy, Gilbert slowly removed the linen wrapping. His eyes flashed recognition – for only a split second – as the cloth fell away to reveal a shimmering disc, just smaller than the palm of a mans hand, but beautiful and finely crafted.

McMalice snatched the artifact from Gil’s hand.

…And we have… He suddenly stopped and studied the object as if mesmerized.

I know… I heard from…

He flipped the object over like a coin, holding it close to his face as he studied it.

Gruff! It cannot be…

In total disbelief, McMalice was mouthing the inscription over and over when he became aware of the quiet and the eyes of all, man and troll, watching him.

Where did you get this! he barked

Joss was terrified. It was a gift, sire

From who? the livid troll roared

A friend deceased, Elizabeth interjected. She was staring at Joss, willing him to shut up as it dawned on the farmer: It had been given him by Poulus. And Poulus too lived in the city. If the trinket had a legacy which could bring harm, best lay the legacy to rest where it could not be found.

McMalice shuffled closer. Deceased… He stared at Joss for a long time, and then smiled. We will talk of this later.

And without another word, he pocketed the trinket – a beautiful compass crafted in gold inscribed with ‘Gruff’ – and walked away.

Entering a narrow archway, they faced an insanely steep flight of stairs. The trolls assisted with their last remaining possessions and as they mounted, Elizabeth could hear her precious things cracking and breaking up the rickety stairwell.

McMalice stopped and fumbled with the bolt at a derelict olive green door. McEnvy growled just beside them and lashed out viciously with an iron studded heel, exploding the already tattered door inwards.

Purity who had dropped off again, jolted awake by the commotion and burst into tears.

There are no ablutions here – Ask your… neighbours and you will find what you need for this precinct. McEnvy knocked Elizabeth comforting the terrified Purity almost off her feet, slamming and virtually destroying the already battered door as he turned to leave.

The flaking walls were covered with dark grease stains, and the floor was moldy and sticky. The hearth was caked with grey brittle paste where the last fire had been doused and forgotten about. The iron fireplace was rusted. A leprous old mattress balancing on crumbling bricks just about filled the entire space of the small enclave supposed to be a bedroom. All window awnings were remnants of tattered calico, harnessed in obscene ways, directly to the walls.

Dear Lord, Joss. Is this our destiny? Tears welled up in Elizabeth’s eyes.

We will make this work, Beth. We have to… This time his voice did not betray the anguish and trepidation he felt in his heart.

CHAPTER THREE

The First Week

The first week in the city was the most miserable any of them could remember. Joss was collected before light the very first day, herded off with the rest of the broken men living nearby, being put straight to work feeding the great furnaces conceived by Jessop.

Elisabeth was left to turn the hovel that had been allocated to them, into a home. Completely out of sorts in his new surroundings, Gilbert hovered near her, helping here and unpacking there, but more in the way than of much help. Back in the Great Valley, she would have told him to go play outside, and he would have been gone in a second, but here, wallowing with the dregs of existence, she would not dare risk the boy moving too far from sight.

And as for Purity. Her health continued to deteriorate. Her head was stuffy, her bowel movements had become sporadic and extreme and she had developed a wet rasping cough.

It’s the foul air, people close by told the mother. They all go through it at first. She will adapt, but Elisabeth remained doubtful.

It was in the fourth week, late one evening as Joss rested his tired bones that a knock at the door announced a visitor. Joss and Elisabeth locked anxious eyes. They had learnt quickly that unexpected intrusions seldom heralded good fortune.

Before either of them could move, Gilbert was at the door. Uncle Poulus! Greetings! The young boy threw his arms around the bulbous man.

Joss and Elisabeth leapt to their feet. They embraced and exchanged greetings as Elisabeth invited their friend to join them for dinner.

Nothing would give a ravenous man more pleasure than to dine with you, but unfortunately, I must decline. Poulus apologized. Alice has prepared our meal and I cannot dally. But we will be gathering at the Clock Tower Square two weeks hence. A lot of folk from the old country will be there. We break bread and share stories, and it keeps us in touch with our lives, our friends and our sanity. We would be honoured if you would join us.

Gilbert jumped up and down with excitement. At last they would get out of the dingy old hovel and could enjoy some space.

The honour would be ours, Elisabeth smiled. Who all will be there and what do we provide?

There will be a lot of faces you may or may not remember. But they are all people who like us, have lost all and have come to the city under duress. Of us there will be myself, Alice, Ernest – he’s living with us now - and our children. Bring an old blanket, some food and some mead, and meet us before the midday hour near the well, under the oak tree. Ask for directions if needed. It is known to all.

The Clock Tower Square? Joss asked. It was much too close to the quarters of the Supreme Council. …To Gradlock. Joss thought back to the encounter at the gate. Is it permitted?

Yes – and not really, Poulus answered, but the trolls turn a blind eye. I believe they feel as long as we fraternize by the light of day, we do not pose a threat. I must leave. Will you come?

Joss walked the three short steps to the front door. We will be there my friend. God speed.

God be with you too, Joss, and he was gone.

CHAPTER FOUR

Words In Jest

Gradlock sipped dark red wine from an elegant bronze chalice as he watched the jester’s ludicrous antics in the ostentatious Supreme Council chamber.

Bravo! he cackled with bored sarcasm as the jester sang and rhymed and performed his antics.

His shrill voice echoed round the cold stone hall dominated at the one end by Gradlock’s magnificent throne, strategically elevated opposite a cavernous hearth large enough for a man to enter without bending. Rustic copper encrusted flares along the walls flickered off stuffed trophies of the hunt, ancient armour and implements of war cast haphazardly around the room. Above Gradlock’s head hung a magnificent coat of arms with the insignia, ‘In Power We Trust’.

The jester stopped abruptly. He seemed to listen like one would to whispered advice, then turned and grovelled up to Gradlock.

What I say is in the stars, and in the stars is what will be. Would the great Gradlock have the valour to hear what they say will be?

Gradlock scowled, caught a little off guard. He fidgeted irritably as he considered the question.

Speak joker, and tell me what it is you see. Tell me what the stars say will be.

Beware the young tree, a young boy and old soul - with bad blood.

The leering smile on Gradlock’s bony face turned to stone.

Beware the stream of bad blood! It comes from another time and it is the time. It is he who shall turn the world, and all men and beast alike. For though the blood was spilled and path lost, a heart beats now to the rhythm of the Universe. No might will stop it, no fright will kill it, beware the young tree of bad blood!

Gradlock exploded in a frenzy. Speak plainly jester!

I say what I know and I know what I hear. And I fear what I hear, for what I hear is the coming of a hearman, beware the young tree of bad blood!

Out! Get out! …Now! Gradlock was seething.

His mind raced back to the boy he had encountered at the gate less than a moon before. The boy whose mind he could not read. The lad whose arm bruised instantly in his grip.

He turned to McMalice and whispered into an ugly, wax-filled ear: Keep your eyes on that child… He is not what he seems.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Day on the Square

Purity’s condition had become of growing concern, deteriorating even further when Joss was transferred to the mill.

The coughing had become so bad at night that Elizabeth feared she might have contracted a palsy. Mother and father would take turns at her bed, burning oils of lavender and eucalyptus and massaging her tiny chest to dispel the violent spasms thrashing at her body. They stood by and comforted her but their hearts grieved watching powerlessly as she fought valiantly for breath.

Even a respected physician, known to Ernest and reputed to be of the best in Horizen, had given council. But far from curing her, his endeavors although providing some relief, shed no light on or solution to the cause.

Even though exhausted from the day, cursing his helplessness, and raging at the Gods for their nature, Joss despised not knowing what was