After the Fall: Tales of Adventure and the Supernatural

By John D. Hartman

In this third collection of short stories, you will be introduced to characters that find themselves in unique situations. In After the Fall, Boris Pastornis army defeated the small village, but find their weapons useless against a rampant sickness. the plague will come to our island. The breeze may scoop it up and bring it here, or it may hitch a ride upon the feathers of the birds that ferry back and forth on a daily basis. You will be unable to control the breeze and you cannot kill every bird. No, the plague will visit soon enough. Perhaps even the dead themselves will bring it to you.
Other tales will feature a variety of characters such as the young boy who is convinced that evil is following his family even as they move to a new town and it waits for him in a local farmers cornfield. And then there is Cameron, a product of one mans imagination who becomes all too real, and Logan, an actor who discovers that playing the role of a vampire is not as much of a fantasy as he imagines. There are also ghosts roaming these pages, and other unnatural beings waiting for you. Come, have an adventure and enjoy your visit to the supernatural.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504958431

John D. Hartman

Following the completion of the four volume fantasy series, The Fire Child, the author published his third book of short stories entitled After the Fall. His time away from novel writing provided the opportunity to develop new plot lines and characters for a totally different fantasy series beginning with Druid Island. “My sole purpose in writing fantasy novels is to entertain the reader and to capture his or hers imagination. Each tale should be like an amusement park ride in which the reader holds on to their seat anticipating what is around the next bend. Film has the advantage of being able to create special effects that flash before the reader’s eyes, whereas books need to create visual effects using only the reader’s mind and imagination. The reader should be able to ‘see’ what is taking place on the pages of the novel. For a writer, it is important not to fall into the trap of repeating old story lines or thinly disguising the same old characters.”

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© 2015 John D. Hartman. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 11/16/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-5844-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-5843-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015917669

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Contents

After The Fall

Snow Falls At Donner River

Wolf’s Den Tavern

The Chinese Box

The Devil’s Ladder

The Book Of Emlinton

The Lighthouse At Thunder Rock

Desert Thirst

Gravesitter

Cameron

Corn Maze

The Crypt: A Love Story

The Woman Of Camelot

Tsunami

The Wedding At Seneca Cliffs

The Portrait

The Weatherby House

The Black Beast Of Bristol

AFTER THE FALL

T he town of Kirstani had held out against its attackers for over 60 days despite overwhelming numbers. It was not that the townspeople were such skilled or brave warriors, for the delay of the inevitable conquest was due solely to the town’s geographical location. Set in a small valley with tall, rugged mountains to both the east and the west and Lake Uriah to the north, the only area to be defended was the south and even that space brought about difficulties for any raider as the land was mostly swamp and heavily insect infested. The invader’s nighttime forays were nearly impossible for the horses often found themselves belly deep in the snake filled water and the poisonous vipers had no preference regarding the steeds or their riders so that it wasn’t long before the bogs and the quicksand pits were filled to near capacity with the dead. During the daylight hours, the insects were so thick and hostile that many of the soldiers dropped their shields so to free a hand in the hopes of swatting the gnats aside making them easy targets for the bowmen of the town. After the third week, even some of the most veteran among the troops were asking themselves why they were wasting their time on such a remote area that appeared to have no strategic worth. No one, however, would ask such a question of Boris Pastorni, the invading general, whose ambition was to be the ruler of the small Balkan territory.

Under Pastorni’s command, the rebel soldiers had already conquered a quarter of the land and he felt that soon he would be ready to march upon the Capitol itself and take possession of the throne. His ranks had swollen after each battle as he gave the defeated villages the option of either having many of their younger men join him or face being annihilated. The first few hamlets had opted not to follow the barbaric troops and Pastorni had immediately ordered the slaughter of each man, woman and child. Fear and loathing preceded his march across the small nation.

The takeover of Kirstani would add little in the way of manpower nor was it of any great military value and no one could quite figure out why Pastorni was willing to delay his onslaught and risk the loss of men and supplies while giving time for the ruling government located to the west to reorganize and amass a larger army to oppose him. Only Boris knew that the reason stemmed from his personal hatred for the remote town. It was in Kirstani that he had been born and it was from that town that he had been expelled as a young man after he had raped and murdered four young women.

At the time, rather than executing him outright for his actions, the town leaders had him dragged into the swamp and staked out for the insects and creatures to feast upon. It had been decided that his death would be slow and painful and a most fitting punishment for his actions. But the result was not the way they had always assumed it had been, for Boris did not die.

As fate saw fit, Pastorni survived his ordeal after a fleeing deer had tripped over one of the ropes that held him to the ground knocking loose one of the stakes that had bound the man. The pursuing wolf had stopped and eyed the human spread out before it and growled and sniffed, but it opted for its original prey and leaped over the man and brought down the deer. While the beast ravenously tore into the animal’s hide, the human worked himself free and crawled away to safety.

Pastorni made his way out of the swamp, his body covered in insect and rodent bites. He had lost one finger of his left hand when a large rat had bit through skin and gnawed through bone. At the time Boris had screamed at the pain, but he derived some satisfaction seconds later as a huge hawk had swooped down and completed the food chain by sinking its talons into the back of the rat and flying away with it. Pastorni had watched as the insects feasted upon the blood that oozed from his hand and he suffered with each and every assault the tiny creatures made upon him. Once he had escaped from the swamp, he vowed to return one day and have his revenge. That time had come, but the cost was high both in men and morale.

After such a long siege, the rebel army that marched into the village was a poor sight to behold. Sixty-five days of camping within the swamp had decimated the health of nearly every man and they staggered forward, many leaning on their lances for support, others shuffling their feet like weary old men. What they found in the village was not what they had expected for its people were starving and dying by the hour. Dead bodies littered the dirt streets and disease hung over the town and, unsuspected by the invaders, it was quick to attach itself to the newcomers who were already weakened and ill.

Pastorni rode into town upon one of the few remaining horses for most of the others had either perished in the swamp or had been butchered to feed the troops. Of the few sickly steeds that had survived such a fate and could still walk most had been confiscated by the growing number of deserters that thinned out Pastorni’s army. If the town had not fallen when it did, it was possible that neither party would have seen victory.

Boris headed straight to the town’s square and ordered his soldiers to search out the leaders and bring them directly to him. Only two men of the village council of six were found to still be alive and they were hurled to the ground before the barbaric leader. The rebel sneered as he recognized both men as part of the group who had once condemned him, although they knew him not since the last time they had seen him he had been much younger and cleanly shaven and of considerable less weight. He ordered the two men dragged to a nearby tree where they would be hanged. As the nooses were being tied around their necks, an elderly old hag pushed her way to the front of the group that had been herded together to watch the execution. She studied Pastorni’s face for a long time and her eyes opened wide and she screamed out his name.

Pastorni’s head turned quickly and he glared at the woman and knew her to be the mother of one of the women that he had defiled and murdered. With a knife in her hand that she had withdrawn from under her apron, she attempted to move forward, but two soldiers grabbed her arms and shoved her to the ground. The General gave a small laugh. So, old one, you are still alive. Have you raised any more daughters?

She looked at him and spat. You are a bastard! she cried out, And I curse you. I hope that your pain and suffering be long lasting before you fall into death’s arms. Your soul is damned and I pray that the devil himself comes to claim it.

He may come, old one, but you will not be here to greet him. He stepped forward and raised his sword and brought it down swiftly severing her head from her body. Leave her in the street, he slurred as he kicked out at the dead woman. Let the dogs, if any remain, feast upon her bones. He looked over to the two men upon whom the nooses had been tightened and gave the signal. A dozen soldiers rushed forward, grabbed the ends of the ropes, and hauled the kicking bodies high into the air until the taut ropes strangled them to death.

As the bodies swayed in the hot wind that had grown in force, a slightly built Oriental man made his way slowly through the crowd. He appeared totally out of place in his bright silk robe and one of the soldiers spotted him and grabbed him by the arm. After questioning his intention, the trooper brought him forward.

General, this man insists upon seeing you.

Boris stared at the strange individual and gave a crooked smile. Bring him here. As the man neared, he was given a hard push to the lower back that sent him sprawling at the feet of the general. Pastorni reached out with his foot and lifted the chin of the fallen man. You wanted to see me. Why?

Oh most esteemed warrior, the Oriental began in a supplicant voice, My name is Len-Chow and I have been sent by my master to invite you to dine with him this night.

Your master? his tone was filled with haughty satisfaction. I am now your master! Those around him laughed loudly and the fallen servant peered up and a crooked smile had come to his face. Pastorni noticed it and kicked out and blood seeped out from the man’s cut lip. You are insolent and very close to death, you fool. Now, speak out.

I have been close to death many times, your eminence, and I do not fear it any longer. In many ways, I would even welcome it. But I beg your indulgence if I have offended you. Pastorni narrowed his eyes and studied the man further. Upon first seeing him, he had thought the man old, but now the man appeared young. Where he had acted as somewhat feeble in his shuffling steps, his shoulders were seen to be broad and his arms were muscular. Boris wondered how he could have been so mistaken. As the blood continued to trickle from the man’s lip, he made no effort to wipe it away. He spoke once more, this time more softly.

I have brought a boat to carry you to the island where my master awaits. Boris stiffened as the servant continued to use the word master and, from the corner of his eye, he saw that others had noticed the effrontery as well. He has prepared a feast suitable for one who is a conqueror of such a humble village. But we should hurry, for the night approaches with anger, the wind is at play and the waters of the lake are in great turmoil. If you can find the courage within you to attempt such a crossing, I will row you to my master’s abode now.

Boris felt his anger seething. You are dangerously close to having your head severed from your body, you arrogant fool. I fear nothing and no one. He looked around and all eyes were upon him waiting for his next move. I will go with you, he tried to muster an imperial tone to his voice, but only half succeeded, so that I may introduce myself to your one time master for he will soon be a servant to me as are you.

As you say, your eminence. Len-Chow stood and turned and the crowd parted before him as if they were frightened of the man. Pastorni delayed for a moment, uneasy about the Oriental’s entire demeanor and the people’s obvious reactions to him. Len-Chow turned and gave a slight bow of his head. Have you had second thoughts? he asked, his voice light, but irritating.

You will feel my blade before this night is over, Boris hissed between his clenched teeth as he took a step forward. He motioned, and two of his warriors fell in behind him and they made their way to a rickety old dock where a small rowboat was moored. The four men boarded the unsteady craft and, with powerful strokes, the Oriental propelled them away from shore and toward the island whose blackened shadow was etched against the lightning filled burnt orange sky.

Len-Chow had been true in his assessment of the lake for the boat rocked and fought against the rough swells, twice tossed high out of the water only to come slamming back sending spray over them all. The two warriors clung tightly to the sides of the craft, fear glowing in their faces, while Boris sat stiffly, his eyes never leaving the face of the rower who displayed no emotion.

It took nearly three quarters of an hour for the men to reach the island for the water tried valiantly to push them back to the shore from which they had departed, but the Oriental would have none of it. As the rowboat eventually pulled into a small shallow area, the two warriors jumped out and rushed to shore anxious to have the solid earth once more beneath their feet. The servant slowly stepped out into the water and waded forward dragging the rowboat on to the shore so that Pastorni could step out on to dry land. He smiled and extended his hand so as to help the general from the boat, but Boris slapped the hand aside and climbed out on his own.

Now on shore, he tilted his head back and stared up at the large and ornate house that loomed over them from the top of the hillside. Despite the storm and the wind, a pale white fog had accompanied them as they crossed the lake and it now swept on to the shore as if magically drawn to the land. The few lights shining from the mansion were soon shrouded by the mist and appeared more like white smears upon some artist’s black canvas. Several flights of wooden steps weaved their way upward from the shore to the fence that encircled the house and, as they climbed, the cries of nesting birds dwelling among the niches in the rocks accompanied them. Each loud screech eerily reminded the men of the outcries they had heard from their dying comrades as they fought to take the town. Once they reached the top, Len-Chow pushed open the heavy, rusted gate allowing it to add its own scream to the welcoming of the group.

The wings of the house were hidden in the darkness and the one torch that burned near the main door flickered wildly in the strengthening wind that began to howl much like a ranting lunatic. The torch was enough, however, to highlight the ornate details decorating the door and Pastorni paused and involuntarily shuddered as he saw the carved wooden trees and bogs and a body staked out upon the ground. He glanced quickly to the face of his guide and saw that his expression gave away nothing.

Len-Chow reached out for the knob and opened the door, stepping aside and allowing Pastorni and the two others to enter. Once they were inside, the door closed, but the Oriental had remained on the outside and the three men found themselves alone. They drew their swords and looked around suspecting a trap as they listened for any noise, but the entrance hall remained empty and quiet and, after several minutes had passed, Boris motioned for the two to follow him and, as he took his first step, a far door down the passageway opened allowing light to escape and bathe the darkened area directly before it. The men walked slowly, looking to the right and left at the closed doors that they passed, until they came to the opening. Pastorni glanced inside at the brightly lit room and saw that it was lavishly furnished and, at the far end, standing before a roaring fire within the fireplace, was the Oriental, Len-Chow.

My master bids you welcome, gentlemen, he said while initiating a small bow. Come and rest yourselves and I will bring you refreshments.

How…?

Please, the Oriental moved with a certain glide to a small cabinet from which he withdrew three goblets. He looked back over his shoulder. Sit gentlemen, and enjoy a glass of wine. He poured out three drinks and carried them to a small table set before a long couch of purple velveteen. I will inform my master of your presence.

He left the room and one of the soldiers hurried over to the table and picked up a goblet and drank deeply while the other watched the door through which Len-Chow had exited. He spoke in a near whisper.

What is going on, General? How did that yellow fiend get into this room before us? Look around you; there are no doors other than the one we came through and no windows. Surely he did not pass us in the hallway.

Pastorni was still rattled by the carvings upon the door that he had seen, but he kept his voice steady as he went to join the first man on the couch. Keep your sword sheathed, but be prepared to use it at a moment’s notice. I do not like the feeling about this place.

We should never have come here, the first spoke as he downed his wine. Who is this master of whom he speaks? The fear in his voice worked in reverse bringing back Pastorni’s bravado. He smiled broadly and picked up his wine goblet.

You have just survived a long battle, Johann, and yet you worry about one man whom we have yet to see. Calm yourself. If there is any trouble, he will die as quickly as any other man.

The third man, Banito, was about to join the two at the couch when the door reopened and he tensed, as did the others. They expected the servant or his master, but were surprised by the appearance of a beautiful young woman. She was tall and shapely, dressed in a pale blue frock of a material that seemed to billow with each step she took as if she were floating rather than walking. She smiled attractively at the trio and spoke in a soft, lilting voice.

Good evening, gentlemen. Len-Chow will be back shortly with food for I am sure that you must be hungry. I would suspect that you have not had time to eat since the fall of the town, have you?

No, we have not, Boris replied, failing to stand and motioning the woman forward, but she remained where she was. And who may you be?

My name is not important, for it would be unknown to you. I have come merely to see your faces.

And why would our faces be of interest to you?

She smiled coldly. So often faces change after death touches them and I wanted to see yours before that happened so that I could remember them as they were.

So you believe that death is about to touch us? Pastorni now stood and moved toward the girl. He had no use for women with sharp tongues. To him, all women were merely objects meant to serve men like him, men of power and standing. He reached out and his fingers ran along her soft cheek. Before death wraps its grip around me, I believe you will feel the touch of my hands upon your body. You would like that, would you not?

She brushed his hand aside easily and nearly whispered. You are such a fool. You are like a blind man who fails to see that one more step will send him tumbling over a cliff. Just then the door was pushed open and Len-Chow walked in with a tray of fresh fruit and assorted pastries. He glanced at Pastorni and the girl and his eyes betrayed the loathing that he felt. He walked pass and set the tray down upon the small table and addressed the general.

You may wish to fortify yourselves with this light fare. Dinner, I am afraid, is still being prepared. My master is very demanding as to his menu and will accept nothing but the best and cooked to perfection. I am sure you will find the wait worth while.

Just when will we meet this master of yours? Boris folded his arms in front of him and the Oriental smiled.

You will meet him soon enough.

Boris reached down and placed his hand lightly upon the hilt of his sword. I believe I would rather meet him right now. You will take me to him, he demanded.

Ah, but that is impossible. My master is asleep at the moment and I dare not disturb him. But he will awaken soon and will be most pleased to greet you at that time. He glanced at Pastorni’s hand and shook his head slowly. You persist is believing your weapon will gain whatever it is you desire. In my master’s house, however, it is solely his desires that are fulfilled and no one else’s.

Anger seethed within Pastorni, but the young woman gently touched his arm. You must excuse Len-Chow, General; he has little patience for fools.

Fools! He grabbed the woman’s arms and squeezed hard, but she did not flinch. You dare to call us fools? He drew his sword and his two companions followed his lead. When your master wakes, he will find two dead bodies. The Oriental will die swiftly, but you, he grinned wickedly, I will enjoy delaying your death until I have had my pleasure.

She stared at him with cold eyes. Ah yes, general, it was told to me that you enjoy bedding a woman before you kill her. He released his grip, surprised by her words, and she continued to speak. Although I believe it was four women that you murdered from the village, is that not so?

Who are you, he turned his head looking again at Len-Chow, and who is he?

We are merely servants of the master.

Is what she says true, General? the one warrior stepped forward and asked worriedly and the girl smiled.

Ah, have we given away some dark secret, General? Were your men not aware that you have a personal interest in our tiny village? Did they not know that you have wasted so much time and the lives of so many men just so you could taste the bitter dregs of your revenge?

Pastorni shot a look at his two companions and saw the hesitation in their faces. He spoke brashly, not wanting to display any anxiety at the woman’s words.

What the wench says is true. I once lived in this village, but that is history and has nothing to do with the present.

The death of four women…? Johann shot him a contemptuous look.

They were mere playthings and worth nothing.

You…murdered them?

I saved them from shame, he grinned wickedly. They would have been exiled from the village for their actions once they were revealed.

You are so despicable, the woman murmured nearly under her breath and Boris was about to grab her again when Len-Chow took a step forward. The foreigner’s eyes flared, but he maintained his poise and spoke quickly and softly.

I sense that my master has awaken. Please wait here while we tend to his needs. He will greet you shortly. And he motioned for the young woman to join him and, together, they left, shutting the door behind them. Pastorni turned to his two followers who glared at him now that they had learned his story. He felt he owed them no explanation for any of his actions and he went to the tray that had been brought and selected a fig and ate it slowly. The two warriors looked at one another, but said nothing and they sat together on the couch staring at the fire and not looking at their leader.

Silence dominated the room until, after nearly 20 minutes, the door reopened and Len-Chow looked in. Dinner has been prepared and my master awaits. If you will please follow me.

The two soldiers hesitated, but Boris was quick to stand and follow the man. As Johann and Banito rose and joined the others in the hallway, the door closed behind them unaided and the apprehension they had felt before quickly returned.

Len-Chow led the three men down the corridor and through a door on the left. The room they entered appeared to be a study and the men marveled at the walls lined with shelves and packed with books for none of them had anything other than the most rudimentary reading skills. They walked through the room and entered another and stared in awe at the large table spread out before them with bowls of vegetables and platters of meat. The Oriental motioned for them to sit and Pastorni took the chair at the head of the table and expected his two soldiers to sit next to him, one on either side. Instead, the two men sat on the left side of the table keeping two empty chairs between them and their leader. Boris sneered in contempt, but said nothing.

Len-Chow walked slowly to the far door and opened it and the woman entered pushing a wheelchair before her. Seated in the chair was a frail looking man with long gray hair and dark eyes that focused strictly on Pastorni and they did not leave him until the woman positioned him at the far end of the table directly opposite the general. She took her seat on his right.

As she had wheeled the man forward, Len-Chow took the opportunity to leave the room, but he now returned carrying a bottle of wine and he proceeded to fill the goblets of each man. Once he had finished, he moved to the end of the table and stood behind the wheelchair.

On behalf of my master, the lord of this lowly island, I welcome you. Please help yourself to the food before you. My master’s diet is limited and so he will be unable to partake, but I am sure you will find the offerings quite to your liking.

How do we know that the food has not been poisoned? Pastorni asked while keeping his eyes fixed upon the frail looking man. Len-Chow smiled and bowed and moved out from behind the chair. From beneath his tunic he withdraw a knife and, from each of the platters, he sliced a thin piece of meat that he promptly ate. He grinned.

I must thank you, General, for I seldom have the opportunity to savor such fine cuisine. He slipped the knife away. As you can see, I have not fallen ill. If I may sample any other dish for you, I will be most pleased to do so.

The display was enough for the other two soldiers and they reached for the platters and loaded their plates with a goodly amount of food. Pastorni waited and merely sipped his wine. Len-Chow continued to grin almost as if he was aware of some secret, and he spoke softly.

You surprise me, General. You hesitate to touch the food for fear of poisoning, but yet you readily drink the wine. A careless mistake on your part. Boris quickly stared at the goblet, but the Oriental continued calmly. Do not be concerned. Like the food, the wine has not been poisoned. I merely point out your temporary lack of cautiousness.

Silence, Len-Chow, the new voice was surprisingly strong and gravelly. You are making our guests uncomfortable.

I apologize for my indiscretion, master. He resumed his place behind the wheelchair.

So, Pastorni, the chair bound host placed his hands flatly upon the table, we finally meet.

Am I supposed to recognize your face or do you have a name that I would know? Boris asked, staring hard and searching his mind.

I am not surprised that you do not recognize me, General, for even though I had been a citizen of Kirstani for many years I seldom spent much time in the village. I was a merchant and, he held out his hands encompassing his surroundings, as you can see, I was quite successful and became very wealthy. You, however, left our town while yet a young man. For so many years I have prayed to live long enough to find you. I searched, but it was a daunting task for you assumed a new identity and made a new life for yourself hoping to leave your sins behind you. I always had the feeling, however, that you would one day return to Kirstani and I swore that I would be waiting for you. He slumped back in his chair. Now we have the opportunity to die together.

Pastorni set his goblet on the table and glared. Again someone speaks of my death. First that yellow skinned lackey of yours, then the girl, and now you. I am no longer amused.

Nor should you be. He looked over at the two warriors who continued to eat voraciously and he shook his head slightly. The scales of life equal out, General. Every man receives his just reward or his just punishment; it is merely a matter of time. Too often the aggrieved party is impatient and attempts to rush matters before the proper juncture designed for their fulfillment. That is quite upsetting for it tends to throw off the balance that exists within the world. One must always allow events to draw to their own inevitable conclusion. He sighed and continued.

Today is the perfect example of what I speak. You have lofty ambitions, General, and a vile nature that permits you to kill and maim without concern. How many have died because of your ego? I would venture to say that you could not even guess at the number, and yet it does not bother you. You are a man without conscience, one who believes that he deserves no punishment for his past acts.

I have suffered in the past, Pastorni said quickly, surprisingly perturbed by the old man’s words.

Have you? What is suffering, General, and how is it measured? Granted, you have endured some physical pain, but what of the mental and emotional grief that you have caused to others. Which is the greater, do you think? He clutched at his chest and the girl quickly grabbed his other hand and the old man smiled kindly as he looked at her.

Do not concern yourself, my dear, for I will be fine. Being this close to the finish line, I will not now stumble. He motioned at the food on the table. Go on, General, eat. It would be a shame to waste this food when so many in the village, as well as your own troops, are starving. I had considered sending additional food stock to the mainland, but knew that the gesture was fruitless. To die of starvation or to die from the plague, who can say which is worse?

The plague? The word caused Pastorni to set down his goblet and the two warriors stopped eating and stared at the old man. Are you saying that the village is infected?

Oh yes, General. Did you not notice the sickness as you rode in? Did you not pay attention to the weakened condition of the people and the stench that was in the air?

Bah! The siege was prolonged and food became scarce. My men were tired and hungry as well; that was the cause of the weakness that we saw in the villagers, nothing else.

The old man sighed. Ah, how blind we can all be at times, seeing only that which we want to see and nothing beyond the obvious scene that is presented to us. The truth is that the plague was visited upon the village a week ago, General. It made its way out from the swamp where it had festered within the carcasses of the dead horses and soldiers, aided by the putrid water. It was carried by the insects that fled the swamp and made its way into the village as those insects sought out the fresh water of our lake. Initially the sickness was not recognized. Len-Chow, on one of his trips to the village, was the first to identify it as he took some of our supplies to ease the hunger of the people. Len-Chow knows all about death, its symptoms and causes. He reported his findings to the council so that they could take steps to curtail it but, like you, they chose not to believe him. By the time the grip of the plague tightened, it was too late to do anything else but die. Since the village was doomed, it was decided to use the plague as a final weapon and so the village surrendered to you knowing that you and your warriors would come marching in without a second thought and filled with the pride of your victory. It was to be the villagers’ act of revenge to pass the plague on to you. When your troops entered, it was seen how weak your men had become and all knew that it would not take long for the sickness to be transmitted to them. So it is that this was one battle that no one has won.

I do not believe you, Pastorni stood, his eyes blazing and his breath labored.

In a way you could say that we saved you and your two warriors…at least for a short time. The old man smiled. When we saw the white flag of surrender waving over the village, I immediately dispatched Len-Chow to bring you to my island. I did not want you to remain long in the village and so take the chance of you contracting the plague too soon.

Why would you want to save me? Boris sat back down, but leaned forward. You have already spoken of my death, saving me from the plague is contradictory.

Ah, you misunderstand. I did not want to save you from the plague, General; I merely wanted to be present when it claimed you. I did not want to miss out on watching you die, not after waiting these many years for that pleasure. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing.

My name is Casimer Urnakov. You did not know me, but you knew my daughter. She was one of the four that you murdered so long ago. When I returned to the village and learned what you had done, I went to the swamp to find your body. I had to see it for I wanted to be sure that it had become carrion for the animals to feed upon. But I found no trace, merely the stakes and straps by which you were tied. Everyone said that some creature no doubt killed you and carried off your body so that it could feed later, but I never believed that. Evil men often have a way of eluding death until it corners them and there is no further escape. And so I waited here, on this island, and I prayed that the good Lord would bring you here before death claimed me. And now you have arrived.

Boris laughed wickedly. Urnakov, I cannot recall your daughter’s face, but I am sure she was most beautiful. I would have never wasted my time on an ugly girl. Whether she was the first or the fourth, I do not know nor do I care. I can only say for certain that she was pleasurable and she screamed when she died. Of that I can be sure for I always enjoyed taking my time with my knife blade.

You are a hideous beast, the old man gritted his teeth and his fingers tightly clutched the table’s edge so that the nails bit into the wood.

I have never denied that fact, Pastorni said easily as he sat back watching as the Oriental moved away from the wheelchair, slipping his hand within his tunic. Boris’s eyes narrowed and he waited, but Urnakov raised his hand slightly.

Do not provoke him, Len-Chow. His death will come quickly enough.

You say that, old man, but you are a fool. Boris took another sip of wine. In fact, you have done me a great service and have actually saved my life.

The old man grinned. And what makes you think that?

Why, you have rescued me from the village and the plague. All that I, and my two companions, have to do is take your boat and row across the lake to the opposite shore. From there we can make our way over the mountains and to safety, leaving the village and the plague behind.

Ah, yes, that would have been possible…if Len-Chow had not already scuttled the rowboat. I am afraid that it rests at the bottom of the lake. So you see, you have no way of leaving this island.

Pastorni thought for a moment and gave a small smile. That may be so, but it still works in our favor. The plague is on the mainland and the distance between the village and this island is quite vast. Once it has claimed the lives of all those who dwell within the mud shacks and makes its way through the ranks of my soldiers, the sickness will die out. The plague is a parasite and will not survive after its hosts are nothing but waste. From the looks of this table, you seem well fortified with supplies so we need not be in any hurry. And, if necessary, I am quite sure that with our ingenuity we will be able to locate suitable material so as to fashion another boat, perhaps not one quite as sturdy as yours was, but one more than capable of freeing us from the island if the waters are calm. So you have not won, Urnakov. You have merely succeeded in keeping me a prisoner for a time being.

You revel in your confidence, General, but it gives me great pleasure to know that you are wrong for, you see, the plague will indeed come to our island. There are many options open to it. The breeze may scoop it up and bring it here, or it may hitch a ride upon the feathers of the birds that ferry back and forth on a daily basis. You will be unable to control the breeze and you cannot kill every bird. No, the plague will visit soon enough. Perhaps even the dead themselves will bring it to you.

The two soldiers stopped eating and shoved their plates aside. Do you believe what he says, General?

Boris turned his head toward them and gave them a disgusted look. Bah! You are warriors and should know that it is too soon to give up so easily. First of all, we only have his word about the plague. For all we know our comrades may right now be celebrating our victory and taking whatever they may find of value from the village. Secondly, I cannot believe that one so sly and diligent as this Oriental would condemn himself by sinking the only means off this island. I would wager that he has another means of escape hidden somewhere. We shall find out once he feels the pain of our urging.

Len-Chow laughed lightly, but remained where he stood. Pastorni looked over at the girl. And if he is not cooperative, I am sure we will find our hostess to be so. He smiled at the soldiers. As you have learned, I am not one averse to inflicting pain upon any woman. The two warriors glared at him and said nothing and he laughed lightly for he gave little thought to anyone’s opinion of him.

Pastorni pushed away from the table and stood. The first thing we must do is to verify that the boat that brought us has been destroyed. To take that one’s word for anything would be a mistake. The two soldiers stood as Boris pointed to Len-Chow. Take him with you and have him show you the sunken craft. It may still be salvageable. He sneered. And if he refuses to cooperate, do not be gentle with him.

Force is not necessary, General, Len-Chow said easily. I will be most pleased to show these gentlemen the remains of the rowboat. He walked toward Pastorni who was quick to lift his sword.

Come no closer until you remove the knife from beneath your tunic.

Len-Chow bowed his head slightly. Of course, General. He reached in and withdrew the weapon and placed it carefully upon the table. He smiled patiently. And now may we leave?

Pastorni waved him by and the Oriental left the room accompanied by the two soldiers. Once the door was closed, Boris sat down and grabbed one of the plates and began to eat, keeping his eyes on the two across from him who silently and patiently waited. After a couple of minutes, he spoke again.

Now, who else is on this island? How many other servants are there?

There are no others, the young woman spoke softly. Len-Chow and I alone attend to our benefactor. Once there were others, but after you laid siege to the town, they rejoined their families on the mainland. Death surely has claimed them by now. It is quite sad for they were good and honest people.

Death comes to all in due time. I doubt if anyone will be sad at my passing. He grinned broadly. Now, how stocked is your larder? How long do you believe the six of us can hold up here?

Supplies are plentiful, General, she rose from her chair and moved behind Urnakov’s wheelchair, but the plague will be here long before you need worry about such things. She pulled the chair away from the table and Pastorni got up quickly.

Where do you think you are going? he demanded.

He is weak and tired, she reached down and rested her hand gently upon the old man’s shoulder. He should rest. I will take him to his bedroom. Do not worry, General, I will be back shortly. After all, there is no where for us to go.

He glared at the two of them, but nodded his head. Go! I will look about this place to see what treasurers you may have. I am sure I can find more than a few items that will make this unpleasant episode worthwhile.

She turned the wheelchair and moved toward the door. Before leaving, she looked over her shoulder. Before you wander too far, General, I would suggest that you take Len-Chow with you. He knows this house well and we would not want any unintended injury to befall you.

Once alone in the room, Pastorni began to get an uneasy feeling, as if a hundred eyes were watching him. He tried to convince himself that he was being foolish, that he was allowing his imagination to play tricks upon him, but he could not shake the feeling. He gripped his sword tightly and turned, but no one or no thing was present. He sheathed his weapon and rushed out of the room to find the others. He fully intended to walk slowly down the narrow hallway, but he found himself in a run. He reached the door, opened it and stepped out into the cold twilight air and he breathed deeply trying to calm himself.

General! He turned fearfully to the sound of the voice. General, what is it?

Johann and Benito were walking in his direction and saw the strange look upon his face. Pastorni quickly got his emotions under control.

It is nothing! I…I simply came out to see what you have discovered.

What we were told is correct, the boat has been scuttled. It sits beneath the water at the shore’s edge. In the clear water, one can see that nearly the entire bottom has been destroyed. It is not salvageable.

Where is the Oriental?

Benito looked behind him. He was right along side me a moment ago, General. There…there is no place for him to go, unless he went back down the cliff.

Go and check…quickly. I do not want him out of our sight!

The soldier hurried to the edge and peered down, but he saw no one. He looked back to the General and held out his hands in dismay.

He is not here! It is impossible. Suddenly the door to the mansion opened and Benito pointed. General, he is behind you, coming out of the house.

Pastorni and Johann turned and Len-Chow stood in the doorway. He smiled and gave a small bow. Excuse me for disturbing you, General, but I have been told of your interest in seeing the rest of the house.

How…how did you get inside? And you did not have time to see the girl!

Len-Chow merely smiled and stepped to one side. If you will come with me, General, I will be pleased to take you up to the rooftop, to the lookout post. From there you will have a fine view of the village.

Boris was hesitant, but he knew that his two companions were watching him anxiously. You two, he tried to muster the authority back into his voice, stay in the hallway and wait for my return. Do not wander around for I trust nothing in this household.

Len-Chow led the General down the hallway and opened a door across from the room they had entered when they first arrived. The door did not open into another room, instead it revealed a darkened stairway and the Oriental lit a lantern and began to climb with Boris trailing close behind him. From the outside, the mansion appeared to be three stories high, but it seemed to Pastorni that the flight of steps continued on much higher. They had passed no other doors or landings until the reached a doorway at the top. Following Len-Chow out, Boris found himself on the rooftop and a series of long narrow wooden planks led them to a small observation deck upon which a telescope had been anchored. Len-Chow moved to the instrument and peered into it and, stepping aside and smiling, he motioned for the General to take his place.

Pastorni looked into the glass and rotated the lens so as to get a clearer view. Once he did, he wished that he hadn’t. The telescope was powerful enough to allow him to see deep within the village. A multitude of bodies littered the ground, their faces contorted into ugly masks showing the agony that they had suffered in death. There were other figures that continued to move about, but they did so in a stumbling manner, often dropping to their knees until they crumbled to the ground writhing in the throes of the plague. Soldier and peasant were thrown together into a macabre portrait of death. The General was able to recognize many of the warriors that he knew well and even his hard heart was touched by the harshness of the pitiful scene. He pushed the telescope aside and his hands tightly gripped the wooden railing. Len-Chow moved to stand beside him and spoke in a near whisper.

Each man begins his journey toward death the moment immediately after his birth for such is the process that carries us to the afterlife, but some deaths are more violent and agonizing than others. Lucky are they who die while asleep for they know not the pain that waits so many others.

A tiny bead of sweat had appeared on the upper lip of the General and Len-Chow did not miss it, but Pastorni grabbed the Oriental’s gown and spoke harshly.

You are not a foolish man, Len-Chow, nor do I truly sense your willingness to die. So tell me, what plans do you have for escaping from this island? Tell me, and I will make you a wealthy man. We will leave together and I will see to it that you never want for anything for the remainder of your life.

The Oriental gave a small, humorless laugh. And with you around, General, how short would my life be? He shook his head negatively. There is no escape from death, General, surely you, as a skilled and brutal soldier, know that. Once death has you in its sight, it is merely a matter of time.

Many thoughts raced through Boris’ brain as he searched for some solution. He finally released the man’s tunic and stepped back.

I know it will do me no good to threaten you, Len-Chow. But I feel that you are not the humble servant that you claim to be. Exactly what is your story and why do you remain with that elderly invalid?

It brings much sorrow to me, for my master is but a shell of what he once was. When I was a child, he purchased me from my previous master who was a cruel and uncaring scoundrel. Casimer took pity upon me and he bought me not to be his slave, but in order for me to be a free man. I was seven years old at the time and had been beaten so badly that other men would have considered my price to be a waste of money for I was at the brink of death. But my master nursed me back to health and he raised me as his own son. When I was old enough, he sent me to the best schools, and when I was inquisitive enough, he sent me to study with the monks of Tibet. I returned to him mentally wiser and physically stronger. When sickness first struck him, I took control of his business and turned over all the profits to him. He had been warned by many that an Oriental is scheming and not to be trusted, that he would be bled dry of every coin and one day would have his throat slit. Len-Chow gave a small hollow chuckle. I knew how people talked, but I also knew that Casimer never doubted me. I owe him my loyalty because I owe him my life. Such a debt is never properly repaid.

As a soldier, Pastorni nodded in agreement, I can understand such loyalty, but there are still many unanswered questions that I have about you.

I am a simple man, General.

I think not and I sense that you and I are destined to reveal our innermost natures to one another.

Perhaps so, but I already suspect that your inner nature is not so very different than the outer one. You are a cruel man, General, a murderer who craves only his pleasures. You are shallow and have no loyalty to any man, nation or philosophy. You are greedy and avaricious and a pitiful specimen of a man.

Pastorni glared and spoke through clenched teeth. I have killed many men who have said less to me. You are fortunate that I feel you still have a usefulness for me. Len-Chow did not respond either by word or by any change in his demeanor or facial composure and Pastorni recognized what a dangerous man he was. He decided on another tactic.

Tell me about the girl. Why is she here?

Ah yes, the girl. On one of our journeys to the Arabian Peninsula, we found her along the side of the road. She was young and had been beaten and defiled and left to die. My master took her in and tended to her and she has been with him since. He treats her as the daughter he once had, the daughter that you took away from him.

What is her name?

Jasmine. Her name is all that she remembers from her past life; what she had to endure erased all other memories, which is for the best. She is a loving daughter to my master and a tender sister to me.

Pastorni smiled sinisterly. "I thought as much. And so you do have a weakness, Len-Chow. Now I ask you once more, how do you intend to leave this island? Once your master is