Death's Dreamer

By John Gordon Jenkins

In America it is a time of rebuilding on a devestated continent. There is an empire in the east allied with underground science cities that survived with technology. In the west there are growing villages and alliances working without technology. A teacher of the invisible side of life sends one of his students to help King Tabak of Shas a kingdom known commonly as California Mountain. Moorn comes as an educator and counselor yet is seen as an enemy of the ferocious military leader of Shas, Nuban. Given the title Prince Moorn to enhance his position he is captured by enemies and thrown in a bottomless well. Moorn reaches an underground city and escapes with the aid of a genius inventor of that city. The forces both for and against freedom and truth are a complex mix of a witch, the King's grief, the King's daughter Anna, Moorn's companion Sara, a pirate captain, the science city's leader, Ferran, slavers and tribal societies. Moorn must survive to continue his secret mission.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Gordon Jenkins
• Release date: Jul 18, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463346631

John Gordon Jenkins

I enjoyed writing at an early age and was an avid sci-fi reader pre teen and then into my teens. I have always been what I now name - a non-centrist, perhaps referred to as an individualist. I was guided into early inner experience with Gurdjieff teaching then trappist monasteries, Franciscan brotherhood and working in the world and ultimately reaching my continual overstanding that an inner and loving path is my personal way to the realms of higher consciousness. My journey to God began with lifetimes before this present one . . . and is never ending.

Book preview

Chapter 1 - At Animal Rock

Moorn was careful in exposing his past to the boy Albert. Explaining some of the happenings achieved two things that were needed. Albert was in the classes that Moorn taught at California Mountain. The community was expanding into two valleys just beyond the White range and expanding the young minds to a larger picture of life was something he felt was valuable to his charges. It was partly his sacred task of lifting up the awareness in this insular community.

I was very familiar with some of the ancient things. When I lived as a pirate I traded them. The working light strips were rare and I seldom saw them casting their quiet yellow light except in the Baron's estate.

How did you get them? Albert was the grain master’s son, an alert boy entering his teens, always asking questions in the classes Moorn taught at the castle.

Well Albert I planned to get some to build up a little hoard that I stashed at the inn I stayed in. But it didn’t work out that way. As a young man I thought myself very smart. After all I had been sort of a pirate until the yellows destroyed the island. It was a hard time for me. I was still missing my wife and child carried off by the yellows a year before.

Moorn and Albert sat high up on the bank and he swirled a bit of dirt around under his hand as they looked down at the creek that was often called Castle River. "I still miss them and wonder where they are. That Albert, was seven long years ago.

So what happened to the light strips? Albert the Grain Master's son asked. The boy was twelve years and tall as Moorn, though narrow as a pole. It was evening on California Mountain, the walled city loomed behind them as they sat on Animal Rock and listened to the rushing water and the early orchestra of night insects tuning up. And what kind of school was it anyway? he went on as the thoughts rushed through his head.

Whoa Albert, one thing at a time. Cassedus knew things about me that I didn't know about myself. Even now . . . Moorn punctuated his pause by throwing a small stone into the rivulet beneath them, I still don't know what he saw that made him pick me out of the bazaar after my theft and take me to the caves, perhaps it was my need. He wasn't gentle about it either. So, I became Moorn the Silent, probably quieter than you are around that red-haired girl in your class.

Albert reddened as he copied Moorn's motion and tossed a handful of pebbles over the little bit of white water where the river, now just a creek as fall began to run out its colors, flowed over a shallow ledge of flat rock and tumbled into a miniature foam bath. A finch flickered at the stones, then veered away when it discovered they were not part of its diet, ignoring them as they fell into the spray. It rained earlier, hard and short, and the air was fresh with just a touch of fog misting the valley further toward Window Peak. From Window on any clear day the distant ocean was visible.

It was a school of discipline. You work and play every day, don't you? Well so did I. Not thieving, usually doing some cleaning up in the beginning. Later I had lessons like I give you and the rest of the class every morning. The things that Traveler Cassedus taught were like the birds singing. You could hear that he said something, but you couldn't quite understand what the message was, only that it was beautiful and that it touched me with love. He didn't judge, not anyone.

I've got to go Moorn. My second sister doesn't like me out here with you; I think she'd rather be here than me and she will be home about now. She never has anything interesting to say. Women are strange. He said it almost to himself as he climbed up to the bluff edge then turned and waved before disappearing toward the walls of the castle.

Moorn sat quietly, content for the moment to be by himself. His path to this place and time seemed tortured and oddly twisted when he looked back over it like a map on a table. There were times when it seemed easy to stay at some point above his own life line. There was satisfaction in viewing his past this way. It was a perception without the boiling emotions that filled so many of his days. Yet here he was again embroiled in a strange world and an odd triad of people, even a quarto if you considered the princess.

It baffled him that Cassedus suggested he come here when he was well established in the routine of the Nevada Mountain community. He knew his perceptions were good, that he was well grounded in the understanding of the great sound, the Huuu, and what more could he want than to be close to the travelers, eager to scale the heights of spiritual responsibility. The earthly order always needed teachers in the city, instead it was suggested he do some tutoring for Baron Oblatts of Lake City. That led to a recommendation to the King of California Mountain . . . and here he was. No one to talk to about the values he cherished. Nice people here, but burdened by intrigue, strange mythologies and the torn emotions of the king.

The mountains here were more like gigantic foothills of the peaks to the north and the ocean was a distant veil on the sky. He knew the ocean well to the south where he had lived with the pirates on Wild Island. The chain through his mind linked feelings together that led to the memory of the brutal slave masters of the desert and that glimpse into the past connected to his Mother and Father and their deaths at the hands of the hunters of the Atom Empire.

According to Prince Clagorn, who escaped from the insane king of Atom, he, Moorn, was the legitimate heir to the Atom throne. He smiled at the thought. It was such a small thing to be a king, even of Atom, an empire of conquest, driving across the land to control all in its path. Its tentacles reached even into this remote land.

Are these happy thoughts or brooding ones. Does your attic require dusting? Her bare legs flashed for a moment as Sara settled beside him on the rock. She usually had a cheerful way of prodding him when they met. Moorn hadn't decided if she was interested in him personally or intrigued by his foreignness. California Mountain did have its odd outsider, but Moorn came right to the heart of things by his contact with the king, and there were some troubled by it.

He had mated twice, at least that was how he thought of those two women. Once when he was fifteen, a beautiful moment so easily destroyed by the mad King of the Atom Empire. Then he had his great love affair with the bold dancer on Wild Island, their child and their capture at the hands of an Atom fleet combined with a fleet of the Yellows.

Cassedus's monastery had opened channels of emotion and freedom from emotion at one and the same time. Now there was no great drive for a mate. But Sara was interesting with her strong, almost masculine face and her forward manner. He could imagine himself kissing and holding her, but not so quickly loving her. That was not a gift he could give himself so easily.

I would like to visit the sea some week. How do you recommend I travel? he asked her, avoiding her probing questions.

With one of the merchants who come through. Jase Red comes next week and he will turn around after delivering some metal goods from the Yellows. You are not happy, are you? Her hazel eyes were large and intense in a gentle way as if she wanted to look into his soul, but only if he would expose a piece of it.

Is that the thing a woman wants a man to be, happy?

Certainly it could be a good start. It's easy to be around you when you're gay and light, when you talk about the places you've been and the things you've heard of and the marvelous tales of your mother. She pulled at the big toe on her left foot with strong fingers. Did you know there are massages of the feet that can help the whole body, Sara wiggled her toes and pulled at several of them. I don't have the methods down too well though.

Moorn laughed and stood, pulling her up after him. Let's walk to the well and you can tell me some tales of your own.

Ahhh, but that would be breaking the code. A servant to the daughter of the king must be demure, don't you know. She made a face and set out at a pace that Moorn found comfortable for his long stride to match.

The well was on the fortress side of the river and not the only water source for the walled city. Within the ancient walls was a deep well that was covered and kept generally secret except to a few within the circle of the king. Sara grasped his hand in hers and Moorn found the experience a pleasant one. Not consumed by desire but able now to enjoy the feminine qualities in his companion without the passion to possess or the need to display love, he was comfortable.

Will you tell me about this strange teaching you talk of on an angle, never speaking outright? I am not an angular person, Sir Moorn. She stopped so suddenly he bumped into her. I require directness.

He moved along the trail and resumed the steady pace. You ask for more than I can teach. The reason I am always approaching it at an angle is that I am not so qualified as I believe I should be to be direct. Direct teachings do not often touch the heart, but they do satisfy the mind. I can tell you what I know, then you decide what makes sense to you.

Let's start now then, she stopped him again.

"Let's start tomorrow evening. Meet me on Animal Rock a bit earlier than this. We can talk about the Huu. Think about it tonight, the great sound that is the river of all life in the universe. There is a traveler who can move into your dreams if you invite him. But this traveler can only remain at your invitation and he will exercise no power over you. He will reveal to you your heart's desire. Think of Huu, a word that best expresses the great sound, when you slide into sleep tonight.

Hummph. She stopped at the edge of the well. It was a broad pool that joined an underground river far into its depths. I'll accept that you're not being angular Moorn; but it sounds as though you are.

He laughed and the sound echoed through the glen and off the water. It was such a laugh that she couldn't help joining him with her own vibrant sound.

Chapter 2. - The Pit

Bill Blake, the name seemed remote to him, though it was his by birth. Moorn sat at the rock on a small knoll with the forest growing up to where he overlooked the river. His mind lingered over the past, the marvelous time as a child in Harvest, his noble parents, even now their image was fresh and vital. They had escaped a great kingdom for love of each other. It is what doomed them, but their love had given him this body and this time to live, though the Atom Empire had reached out and destroyed them. A senseless act, he still hurt at the memory of the burned cabin and the charred bodies. It left only his sister and himself to travel westward, too young and alone to have a purpose or make sense of the intentions of others. He was deep in memory when a sound behind disturbed him. The blow struck him squarely above the neck.

He awoke with an aching head, the Atom Empire far from his thoughts. Moorn lay, bound hand and foot, in a leafy dale of the vast forest. The fall leaves crunched in the cool night air. The moon was cloaked in clouds, whoever his enemies were they had chosen a good time to capture him.

Do we let him live? the gangly leader of the trio looked at Moorn. A torch stuck in the low fork of a tree cast shadows around the silent dale. No wind ruffled the leaves of the stunted Oak.

I was the one that hit him, knocked him out with my favorite club. It was me and I should have the say. Kornbut spoke in a whisper, but it came out as a question. Algar the tall was their leader.

You'll have your say, yes you will. Algar settled back on his haunches. His voice was deep and raspy and he sat immobile until the other two stopped fidgeting. Kornbut still cast suspicious glances at the shadowy trees around them.

You say you've done us no harm, Sir Moorn, Algar said sarcastically. Yet you, a foreigner, come to Shas and gain the ear of our King.

Gain his ear and seek to ride his maid. the eerie, high pitched voice of Neebush crackled. He stopped his strange, nasal laugh at a glance from Algar.

I've done no harm to any of the people of your land, you know I am here by invitation.

Algar knows much my fine friend. Algar does not trust the Baron of Nevada City. Algar thinks the King is ill to trust such as you and now even the King has his doubts.

There was no purpose in arguing with them. Moorn sensed that their minds were set to some purpose unspoken. Of the three Algar was the most perceptive; though they were all primitives in their thinking, little more than overgrown children. There was some resentment in the castle community that Moorn had been sent with good words from the Baron of the largest city in the region. Now Moorn often talked with Tabak, the ruler of Shas and even sat at the meetings of the old ones on two occasions. He was sure that these three had not captured him of their own will, there was direction here and Moorn suspected it came from the leader of Shas's small, but potent military force, Nuban the hunchback.

Neebush cackled again, was she worth what we have in store for you?

Someone has told you lies ...

Shhh, Algar held up a hand and they sat silent, leaves rustled and the clumping of clumsy feet could be heard.

A voice broke the silence. Algar, Algar, where are you?

Come this way, look for the light. Algar's face broadened into a smile. We have a surprise for you Moorn. Someone to join you in your little patch of leaves.

Grunting, two men struggled into the clearing. They each carried one end of a blanket wrapped form, and dropped it beside Algar. The nearest man bore scratches under one eye. Algar dropped a coin into each man's palm and they shuffled off into the trees.

Algar pulled the edge of the cloth and Sara rolled out of it. Her dress was torn half from her body and her hands and feet were tied as Moorn's were. She lay on her stomach a few feet from Moorn.

Make a noise and I'll kill you both. Algar pulled the rag from Sara’s mouth and held a deer blade in front of her frightened eyes. He walked around them both. What a perfect couple, don't you think? his cronies laughed.

Sara’s eyes met Moorn's. Why am I here? she whispered.

No idle chatter now, Algar put the toe of his boot at Sara’s hip and lifted the dress from her bottom, snagging it and pulling it to expose her buttocks. No one will help you here no matter what we decide to do. He crouched down and cut a lock from her hair. Sara shivered as he stroked her back with the blade. Moorn could see fear in her eyes and a glint of steely anger as well.

But we will have none of your pleasures, we have better than your kind at home. His knife hand moved to her ankles and cut the rope there, then he freed Moorn's feet as well.

If you come peaceably I won't cut you into strips, and my companions will not play games. Try to get away and you will be very sorry. He lifted the girl to her feet and the shred of dress fell completely away. Algar’s companions stared openly at Sara’s naked form. Then Kornbut pulled Moorn up.

Algar led them both with a single rope connecting them by their necks and they walked through the forest that few travelled in daylight without fear and weapons. They shuffled and stumbled for a long time through the torch lit night.

Sara’s hair was dark, black, and her height was to Moorn’s shoulders. She was not considered a beauty in the town, but was handsome and strong. He looked back, hoping to reassure her but doubted she could see his face.

What were these oxen up to? Moorn mulled over the matter. This seemed no well travelled path, though here under the huge redwoods little brush cluttered the earth. The wind shoved clouds across the sky and finally a pale icicle of moonlight pierced the trees ahead. It cut across a smooth black surface just beyond this odd group. Moorn shivered involuntarily. He had only heard of the pit, never knowing where it was, nor wanting to. The sliver of dim light disappeared as they entered a natural clearing.

Like a tiny volcano the black rim of the pit rose at a gentle angle from the forest floor and formed a perfect circle of even deeper blackness at its mouth.

Some say there is a witch in these woods. I doubt she has any interest in our doings. Anyway, we've reached our goal, we have.

As Algar moved closer to see the fear in their eyes Moorn kicked him. Aiming at the crotch he felt his foot miss by a fraction, but Algar dropped swiftly down, the torch hissed in an arc and struck Sara. She screamed and jumped back, knocking down Kornbut as she fell. The rope tightened on Moorn's neck and he was pulled into the heap. Neebush had a torch up and was out of the way.

We're going to play with you after all, Algar gasped as he struggled to stand. Light, get that torch over here.

Moorn told Sara to get up and run with him. He kicked at Kornbut again, then pulled Sara by his motion away from the clearing. Neebush ran after them and Algar limped close behind. Sara screamed again as she fell over a root and Moorn had to draw close to her. The men wrestled him to the ground and bound their feet once again.

You should have taken the easy way. I've not much stomach for blood, usually. You see, Sir Moorn, they'll think it's just another love story to tell when they gossip, only we'll know the difference. He chuckled as he drew close with the knife.

You and Nuban, Moorn said, surprised at the firmness in his voice. He wants war with the coastal cities, to create his own little kingdom here. You're being used and don't even know it.

Algar smiled his hard, unfriendly smile. I always hated you from the first time I saw you. Doesn't matter about Nuban. I don't mind taking money to do what I want to anyway. My friends here are more interested in playing games than I am. I just want to throw the remains into the pit.

He stuffed a cloth in Sara’s mouth and was about to do the same for Moorn when an eerie cry cut through the silence of the night.

It's a wolf, just a wolf, Algar said hurriedly.

No wolf, stuttered Neebush, got to be the witch, got to be. He looked every way he could, moving the torch high in the air. After a minute he calmed enough to look back at Algar. Let's just go. I don't want to stay here any more.

Algar was pleased, he had no desire to see anyone tortured, it was an unmanly thing to do from his point of view. All right, help me then.

He took Moorn's feet and began dragging him to the pit while the others lifted Sara and carried her along. They almost dropped her and ran when the cry once again filled the air around them. Only Algar's stern look kept them moving.

With both captives lying on the rim, Algar gave a sign to his companions and they pushed them into the pit together. Moorn made no sound, but Sara tried to scream into her gag as they disappeared from sight. Algar listened for a long time. No sounds came from the pit. Perhaps it was bottomless. He shivered and the trio hastily left for the distant safety of the castle and their homes in California Mountain.

Chapter 3. - Lovers

The hills were cool and green with early summer, the rocks on the forest earth covered with thick moss. The grass felt good to his feet after the hard concrete and stone of the castle. Was there anyone as swift as he was among the California Mountain Men? Bra-In's gait could carry him far beyond the seeing of a guard on the high wall, but today was a short and very sweet run, a run to the thick copse of brush and small trees among the tall towers of wood that marked King Tabak's sacred forest.

Anna heard something. She sat up, alert. Was it Bra-In, or was it someone to betray her to her father? Her long brown hair hung to a slender waist. Her hips flowed with a womanliness that brought aches to the warriors. They dared not touch Tabak's last