Chapter Sixteen
The gritty iron bars that held them captive were spaced just wide enough to tease them with thoughts of escape. Defeated, they sat on a thin wooden bench without speaking. Their keepers stood guard, making sure they didn’t talk or interact with one another. Each time they tried, one of the jailers threatened to stab them with a long sharp stick.
Ben was afraid of what was coming next. They had been here for hours without food or water and his stomach was already beginning to feel it. Their things had been taken and laid against the wall right in front of them. Miles cussed that their only means of escape was just out of his reach. Out of the three of them, Donovan was the only emotionless one. He sat there without saying a word or expressing any concern or anger. After a while longer, there was a knock on the jail door and the two guards stepped out. Miles jumped up as Diostist came through the door with a look of worry on her face.
“You have to get us out of here,” Miles said, with both hands gripping the bars.
“I can’t, but I have good news. I’ve gotten you passage to Atlantis like you asked. Apparently, Salinia thinks you are Atlantean spies, so in an act she considers ironic, she is sending you to war against them. Your boat leaves in the morning for the island,” she said, placing her hands around Miles’.
“Okay, I guess that is good news,” Miles said, looking into her eyes.
“How is going to war considered good news?” Ben said, jumping up.
“It’s good news because they couldn’t find any other way to get us there,” Donovan said, sitting there, stoic.
“What the fuck?” Ben said, as thoughts of death and failure filled his head. The stress of his situation was starting to build up again, tearing down his newfound resolve. Seeing Donovan sit there, cool and calm, added a sense of anger to the mix, but he didn’t show it.
“I’m sorry, Ben, but there isn’t any other way,” Miles said.
“Yeah,” he replied, too tired and angry to acknowledge defeat.
“Can you make sure we get our stuff back?” Miles asked her.
“Yes. I already spoke to my husband about that; it won’t be a problem. Salinia is leaving tonight for Atlantis and the three of you won’t be leaving until tomorrow morning. Get some sleep, and Miles…” She trailed off.
“Don’t say it,” Miles said, turning away. After watching him disregard her, she left without another word, and the guards came back in, returning to their places.
Sleep didn’t come easily for Ben that night as he rested up against a cold stone wall. Discomfort and distress were his only companions as he tried to gain some sense of serenity. With sounds he didn’t think possible, his stomach ached and turned with each thought of their coming journey. He had only seen war on TV, but he could only guess that the reality was far worse.
The next morning, his eyes opened, but he didn’t wake, because he hadn’t slept. The guard turned the key and opened the rusty gate for them to leave. On the way out, they retrieved their items, and without a word, the three of them were loaded into the back of a cart with ten other Lemurians. The ride through town was interesting because the streets were empty so early in the day. The shops and kiosks were closed, leaving the otherwise cluttered city devoid of life.
The constant bounce of the wooden wheels against the stone street brought nausea to the list of Ben’s worries. Already exhausted to the point of sickness, he tried his best not to throw up as all of this mixed with a growing feeling of uneasy nervousness in his gut. Miles and Donovan sat there with quiet desperation marked upon their faces. The three of them had nothing to say, because they knew that no amount of talking could prepare them for what was next.
After hours of weaving through cramped cave tunnels, they squinted as the light of day finally exploded into view, causing their sensitive vision to go white. As their sight came back, they found themselves stopping in front of a large wooden ship that swayed with the crashing of the sea against its hull. The massive size of the sails threatened to block the warm sunlight that rained down on them. In order to see, Ben held up his hand, blocking the oppressive sun, whose blinding light disagreed with the darkness of the cave they had just escaped from, but there was no escaping their fate.
The weight of his sword became more apparent as his feet hit the sandy ground below the cart. Miles and Donovan followed him as the guards yelled and corralled them toward the boat. The line of Lemurians pushed forward as the soldiers urged them on with the threat of physical damage. Ben had no trouble getting on the boat, but some of the other men were more reluctant and needed persuasion in the form of a whip. The crack against their backs split their flesh, giving them just the right amount of motivation to keep moving.
As he walked up the wooden plank, Ben saw the extent of the Lemurians’ armada. There, stretched out as far as the eye could see, was a sea of ships, divided into fleets, all preparing for their journey to war. The amazing sight brought only more fear as he tried to soak it all in. Miles collided with him, lost in the same spectacle. The entire line stopped, causing the men to push forward with little regard for those in front.
As he boarded, Ben noticed that the Lemurians were wearing tinted goggles that protected their eyes from the harsh sun. The ship hands led them to their quarters, which were nothing more than cramped cubbies with tiny portholes. The smell of rank sea food was strong because they were so close to the kitchen. Ben’s stomach turned as he took a heavy whiff of the seafood muck that was on the menu for later. The three of them were bunking together in the small cramped space, much smaller than their cell. Three beds had been placed on top of each other, the highest so close to the ceiling that Miles’ nose almost scraped against the splintered wood as he lay down.
“And this was the good news?” Ben asked.
“It’s better than the alternative…” Miles said, trying not to express his displeasure at the sleeping conditions.
“Both of you, please just stop. There’s no reason to get into this right now. Not with an entire army of flesh-eating monsters just outside the door. We just need to stay low and wait until the moment when we can get away,” spat Donovan.
Ben released a loud exhale before relaxing against the wooden bed. They listened as the continuous sound of footsteps marched past their door and finally stopped after an hour or more. After that, there came the sounds of yelling on deck, and the lurching of the ship as it left the dock. From there they lost any sense of time as the motions of travel became hypnotic. Stress, fear, and sickness were the only feelings the three of them felt for the next twenty-four hours.
Ben woke in the middle of the night and decided to leave the cabin to get some air. Without waking the others, he left and wandered through the vast passageways until finding the stairs to the deck above. The sky was clear of clouds and brilliant with millions of stars. The sound of water rushing up against the sides was soothing as he stood on the bow looking out across the sea. Something told him that this would be the last time he’d feel any sense of comfort or solace for a while. Staying out of sight, he watched as the crew rushed around doing their job guiding the ship towards Atlantis.
Lost in the sway of the water, Ben jumped when a hand fell down upon his shoulder, pulling him out of the tired trance the ocean had lulled him into. An angry-looking Lemurian guard barked unknown orders at him. The confused boy didn’t know how to comply, which caused further frustration. Finally the guard grabbed him by the arm and pulled him across the deck. Ben stumbled repeatedly as he tried to follow the forceful soldier down the stairs and into the belly of the ship. As they passed his room, Ben kicked at the door and yelled for his friends. This forced his captor to take Ben down to the ground and drag him kicking and screaming along the corridor. A few people opened their doors to see the commotion, prompting the soldier to command them back in. After a few moments, Miles and Donovan emerged from their room and saw their friend’s situation.
“Help me!” Ben said. The Lemurian soldier tur
ned and commanded Miles and Donovan as he had everyone else. With an unknown fury, Donovan launched himself upon the enemy with his bare hands and within a second, laid the man dead. The boy was free, Miles was amazed, and Donovan was lost, breathing deep as blood dripped from his hands. The lack of sound in the empty hallway became deafening as they all tried to figure out what had just happened.
“Come on, you two, we have to get rid of this body,” Miles said. Eyes still wide with shock, Ben and Donovan helped him grab the corpse and pull it into their room.
“What happened?” Miles asked, sitting on the floor staring at the lifeless body that was propped up in front of him.
“I was up on the deck looking out at the ocean when he started screaming at me. I guess when I didn’t respond he freaked,” Ben replied.
“Freaked? You’re damn right he freaked,” Miles said, kneeling down by the body. The man lay there, lifeless, staring off into the infinite void that was the darkness of death. The blank soulless gaze left Ben feeling uneasy.
“What are we going to do with his body?” Ben asked.
“We have to dispose of it,” Miles said, pulling out his dagger. “I can put a bit into the lantern, but the rest of the meat will have to be dropped out the window.”
“Oh god,” Ben replied as he watched the mage cut the hands and fingers off the corpse. Donovan also watched, staring at the grotesque scene with unblinking resolve.
“Get down here and help me,” Miles said to Ben. The boy stood there for a moment unable to move. “This is your mess, now get down here.” The stern words sparked the boy into motion, after first swallowing the growing feeling in his gut in order to complete the task. The two of them sat there for a while dismembering certain parts, trying their best to keep the blood from getting everywhere.
“Hand me the wool linens,” Miles said to Donovan. Donovan sat there, not acknowledging the command, or the sound of Miles’ voice. Ben jumped up and snatched the blankets up without a word and started soaking up the mess. Vomit hit the back of his throat a couple of times, causing him to gag, but, knowing that another mess would be counterproductive, he swallowed it back.
After an hour of cutting and dumping the messy pieces out the porthole, the body was finally gone. There was a slight stain on the floor the color of a deep merlot, which would be unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t actually inspect the room. The grisly act had left Ben shaken, but he did his best to hold it together. It had to be done, and he was grateful for the fact that he was still alive. Ben turned to thank his hero when he noticed that Donovan was still staring at the spot on the ground where the man had been.
“Are you okay?” Ben asked.
“I killed a man,” he replied in a calm voice.
“It’s okay,” Ben started.
“Does it look okay?” he shouted back. “I just took a life, and now my gut is telling me beyond all things that this was a heinous act. I don’t even know who I am supposed to be, and I know that this was wrong. I did something awful, and I will never be the same because of it.”
Ben opened his mouth to speak but caught a stray glimpse of Miles signaling him to shut up. They sat in silence for a while, watching the insects buzzing around the interior of the lantern until the bugs calmed down enough for the room to go black. Miles and Ben turned in, leaving their distraught friend sitting on the edge of the bottom bunk staring off into his own guilt. Ben could feel his fear and confusion and wanted to reach out to him, to console him, but he knew that he was out of his depth. How could he tell the man it was going to be okay when he didn’t even know if that was a true statement?