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The mud was everywhere. It engulfed the grass and weeds on the plains. It was slick and clammy at the same time, so travel by horse became impossible. Travel by foot was even harder, because every step had to be carefully planned and executed so the walker did not become trapped in the mud.
The storm was over--leaving the land brown and tired, like the field after a battle with no blood shed. There was only mud and water waiting to be absorbed into the ground, and waiting for the sun to come up, and the day to begin again. It was a new hope, as with all the hard days before which came to nothing, but it was new hope nevertheless.
We walked along the road, as the first lights of dawn rose out of the east. Our feet were twice their normal weight from all the mud clinging to our boots. No matter how hard we tried to shake it off, there was still some mud weighing us down. Finally, we just accepted our new feet of clay and kept walking.
I walked a few meters behind Jenna. During the storm, all of our possessions had gotten wet, so we walked slowly under the extra weight of water that penetrated our clothing and froze against the skin. Jenna insisted that we keep moving, instead of finding shelter. We pushed on against wind and rain. When the storm was over, we still walked. That was all we could do. With every step, I wanted to just fall to my knees and die in the middle of the road, but Jenna would not allow me that privilege.
She was ten years younger than I. She had fought with Blake against Servalan's army in the west for many years, and left for a reason she never talked about, at least in the two years I had known her. She never talked about her past at all, in fact--as if it did not exist anymore. Before she found me, I had heard of Jenna, the legend, the girl soldier who fought by Blake's side. With me, however, she was an outlaw who stole with a sword, and, together, we were impossible to catch.
Off in the distance, we saw the outline of a building huddled by the side of the road. Jenna stopped walking and turned to me. "That has to be an inn. Let's stop and get something to eat," she said.
"We're running low on money," I said.
"I'm hungry."
"I'm hungry, too, but let's just steal some food and run." It was a bad idea and I knew it.
"No, I want to sit down under a roof," Jenna said, already walking toward the inn.
#
The stale air smelled of a mixture of mildew and animal waste, and felt like a long sword being drawn up into my nose. I chose to stay outside, while Jenna went into the inn. I found a patch of moist ground under an old oak tree, and sat down with my back against the rough trunk. With my sword on my lap, I had a good view of the inn, in case Jenna had to leave in a hurry.
I did not mind sitting on the wet ground--especially when the alternative option was to go inside the tiny inn. Even though they might look large on the outside, inns could be so minute on the inside that the walls would fall in on me at any moment. Moreover, there were always too many people in there. Most of them lay on a dirt floor with ale drooling from their lips. A rat or two always lurked around somewhere, with its rabid little teeth just waiting to dig into someone's hand or ankle. Scavenging food, they stayed in the shadows until ale accidentally spilled on them; then, with their hair spiked and tail dragging, they moved to a new location——usually under my table. Grasping the handle of my sword, I felt much safer in the open space of the plains.
Whenever I thought about the rats, I longed for the better days, when I was Servalan's most trusted strategist, and spent many hours in the great hall, with its high ceiling and Greek pillars. From the stained glass windows, banners of illumination were projected on the white stone floor.
Servalan sat on her golden throne, with her long black hair flowing down her white robes. Her tiny face deceived many who thought she was weak. She was absolute power, and she listened to me as my words echoed throughout the great hall. Everyone in the hall listened to me and watched her, because they knew that I, without even taking up a sword, won the battles for Servalan.
Then, one day, I was wrong for the first time ever. I had miscalculated. I had thought Servalan's powerful army could crush Blake in one final battle. There were rumors that Blake had been seriously wounded, and that many of his knights and generals had left him or been killed in battle. It was the perfect time to strike. However, I did not predict that Jenna would go to the nearby villages and rally the women to fight in the men's place.
Most of Servalan's army was clubbed to death with shovels and broomsticks before they knew what hit them. It was a great victory for Blake. I heard the news even before Servalan. Immediately, I fled out into the night alone and on foot, without the common sense to grab even a sword on the way. I had failed Servalan, and she would make me pay with my head. I ran west in the hope of finding asylum with Blake's army.
Less than a day after leaving Servalan's castle, I was robbed by bandits who took everything I had, and left me to die in a ditch by the side of the road. Then, the closest thing to a miracle happened to me--I, who had never believed in miracles. Jenna found me and took care of me. She thought I was a nobleman who had fallen off his horse, and who would pay her handsomely for all her trouble. Jenna thought wrongly; however, realizing that I had some intelligence and tact, she agreed to me temporarily as her partner. After two years, I was still her temporary partner, only on a more permanent basis.
I liked Jenna. She taught me how to use a sword and steal from knights and noblemen. We soon became the most wanted of outlaws, uncatchable, because no one ever saw our faces. I had suggested wearing masks when we stole. Jenna never asked why an intelligent man was near death in a ditch at the side of a road, and I never asked about Blake.
Slowly, all the exhaustion pushed in on my body, and I allowed my eyes to close for only a few seconds. After my mind forced them open again, I focused on Jenna, slowly emerging from the inn, carrying a pitcher and some bread. I quickly stood up.
"There's goat's milk in the pitcher," she said. "Sit down and eat quickly. A traveler from the west said another storm is coming. It won't be safe for us out on the plains. We have to make our way to the forest in the west." She handed me the pitcher and bread.
"But won't we be walking into the storm?"
"We have to take that chance. We can't outrun it on the plains. Just eat."
"Why don't we just stay here at the inn?" I suggested, even though I hated the idea.
"No," Jenna snapped, "Eat your bread." She rarely snapped or lost her temper.
I sat under the tree and ate. The bread was soft and the milk sweet. Good food had become extremely rare to me these days. Most of the time, I settled for merely edible, but under this oak tree, I was eating a feast fit for Servalan.
Jenna walked a few steps away and stared off to the west. Something was wrong. She looked tired and off her guard. Something had happened, but I did not know what it was. Maybe it had to do with Blake. I did not know. I never knew when it came to Jenna.
I finished the bread and milk. After placing the pitcher in the doorway of the inn, we started walking west.
#
At the edge of the forest was a large mountain. One side of it was a perfectly white, smooth cliff that looked out and greeted the morning sun. On nights with a full moon, the rock face glowed and lit up the plains beneath it. Many believed that on nights like that, all the great warriors came back to Earth to do battle one last time in the glow of the moonlight. Some said they actually heard the battle cries and clanging of swords in the midst of battle. However, I never heard such things.
The other side of the mountain was completely covered with trees and gently slid down into the forest below. Near the bottom, some of the rocks jettisoned out from the mountain to form tiny shelters from the falling leaves. Some of this was where the dead warriors slept when the battle was over. They were always gone when the sun rose.
We walked in silence. Jenna knew that I was watching her. Still, nothing was said. Although we travelled quickly, we did not reach a cave in the side of the mountain before the storm came, instantly soaking us again.
Slightly past midday, the sky became black like a night without a moon or stars. The rain became invisible arrows piercing down on us without ever stopping. Hunched over like animals, out of fear of slipping on the rocks, we made our way around the mountain. Twice, lightning struck the plains, lit up the entire world, and nearly blinded us. With a little luck, we found a cave. It was only four meters high, but it was dry and large enough to hold both of us. I crawled in first, while Jenna sat at the entrance and stared out at the rain falling on her.
"Carnell, do you believe in judgement day?" Jenna finally asked, not looking back at me.
"Judgement day?"
"When all stand before God, and the good ones go to paradise, while the bad ones go to hell."
"I don't believe in God."
"Where do the soldiers go?"
"Well, I suppose, following your theory, if they were good and heroic, they would go to heaven."
"I don't believe it. When you die, that's the end. There's nothing after that. There's life, then there's death, then nothing."
I did not know what to say. I wanted to ask her about the traveller from the west at the inn, and why she had left Blake. Everything. I had to be patient, though, and not let her lose her course of thought.
"There's nothing," she said again, as she wiped the water off her face with one hand and pushed wet blond hair out of her eyes.
I slowly reached out and placed my hand on her shoulder. In the two years I had known Jenna, I had never touched her, except in extreme circumstances when our lives were in danger. Jenna did not brush my hand away. She slowly moved inside out of the rain and closer to me. I extended my arm around both her shoulders and held her close.
"Before I found you, I fought with Blake against Servalan's army in the west. I was with him for two years. I even saved his life a couple of times. Then, we had a quarrel over something which seems petty now. I left him and his army. I just walked away. When I looked back, he was standing at the edge of the camp, leaning against a crutch because his leg had still not healed. He looked old, older than he really was, and his face was all scarred up. One of his eyes could just barely open. He just stood there at the edge of his camp, and smiled at me with a look of complete hope. He was saying that he would continue without me, and he was wishing me good luck. I just continued walking, and never looked back again. I think I knew then that it was over for him. He could never win."
The rain continued to pound the ground outside. Night simply became a continuation of the day's darkness. In the night, the rain lost much of its power and became just a quiet downpour. I could hear the continuous hum of the crickets as they called to each other in the darkness.
"Jenna, what happened at the inn?" I finally asked.
"Blake is dead," she said quietly.
"The traveller from the west told you."
"I knew him. He was Sir Avon, Blake's most trusted knight. I never liked him, though, never trusted him." She paused for a thoughtful moment, "Still," she said then with obvious reluctance, "Avon was loyal. He stayed with Blake all the way to the end and did not betray him." A shrug and another pause followed.
"I still don't like him or trust him. At the inn, I overheard him talking to someone. Blake had been ill for a long time, but he hid it from his men. Then one morning, he closed his eyes and stopped breathing. That's all. It just ended. After Blake died, his army gave up and went home. Avon is on his way east, where he hopes to make a profit fighting in some holy war. It's over. Servalan has won. It's all over, and it all came to nothing," Jenna said quietly.
There were many things which could have been said, but I spoke none of them. I just sat there quietly and hoped that Jenna would talk some more. However, she did not say anything either.
Because of the shadow of night caused by the mountain, I did not see the dawn until the ground and trees glowed from the sun I could not see. I looked down at the short blond hair that covered Jenna's head. I could hear her breathing quietly into my arm. Twice, she had changed my life. I have debated many times whether it was for better or worse. I will never know.
How much longer will we have until we are captured or killed? I will never know.
Did she truly love Blake enough to die for him, or was she just a mercenary? Maybe it was a combination of both. I will never know.
Servalan has won. Won what? Nothing. Nihil, in the Latin. Nihil comes from nothing, and nothing becomes nihil.
I carefully placed Jenna on a bed of leaves and crawled out into the warmth of the sun. The warm rays showered and dried my clothes. I leaned against the rocks on the outside of the cave and closed my eyes. I was tired and old, but, for the moment at least, I was warm.
Soon, the soldiers will be coming home with their pockets filled with gold, and we will be there to greet them.
the end
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