A Tale of Time: The Malice of Men

Chapter 35: Fear

Fear is gripping.Fear is deadly.

Fear is fire.Fear is frost.

Feat is a lie.Fear is the only the only truth.

Fear is the linebetween life and death.

Fear. That was all that he could feel. Fear in everypart of his body, in every inch of his blood. He couldn't think. He could look,but he couldn't see. He could hear, but he couldn't listen. Everything wasvague. The only clear thing was his own doom.

Part of him had begun to guess where he was. He hadnever been here, but it was obvious. The people who brought him here wereterrifying. They wore thick, heavy armour. Their weapons were heavy too. Mostof them carried spears, but some carried swords. They bound his hands behindhis back and marched him into Esha's home; the home of the governor of theplace. Estari. They had a second name.

The thought didn't give him much comfort. Araan wassoaked through. Outside, it was still pouring. He wondered how long it had beenraining, if it was going to be daybreak soon and if he would go back to father.He knew the last wish was silly. He had worked against the wishes of LordEstari and would have to pay the price. He whimpered at the thought. A soldierhit him with the butt of his spear.

Araan was not ready for what was about to happen to him. Hismind had already conjured up the wildest scenarios, all of which seemed to growincreasingly likely as time passed. Finally, the door creaked open. Araan wailed.

"Please!" It wasn't my idea. P...p...please sir! I'll doanything you want. I'll be your servant if you want me to! Please don't killme!"

It was the governor Estari, after all.

The man was tall. He walked with swagger and an air ofdignity that only came with being born in nobility. He had a bushy beard thatwas magnificently black. He wore rich, elegant clothes. Many layers of them. Hehad three golden rings on his right hand and a silver ring on his left. Thelatter was due to the old custom of the older men, where the leaders of thepeople were expected to wear and use silver at all times. He had a nose like abird of prey. His eyes were sharp and piercing and fierce and right now, theylooked at him as though they had found their next victim.

"So you will do anything I want?" His voice was commanding,yet calm. That just made him scarier. Araan did not find it in himself toreply. All he could think of was his father, who let him go to Esha, hismother, who would be waiting for her poor boy to return home. He broke into afresh wave of tears.

"Quiet boy!" When that did not work, one of the guardsstanding next to him gave him a smack on the face. That settled him, althoughhe still kept whimpering.

"Very well. In that case, I have a task for you."

"Esha is I the tower, sir! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone.Please, let me go home!" Araan was pleading.

"No."

"Why? Please, let me go home!" The last few words werealmost a whisper.

"I know where Esha is. Let her stay there. Her grand planmay even have helped me. What is your name, boy?"

"A...Araan, my Lord." He spoke.

"You are wrong. The King needs hostages. We are all to sendour wards to the King or die. You are my ward, aren't you?"

"M...My Lord?"

"You are an Estari. Araan Estari. You are the hostage of theKing, do you understand?" Araan was beginning to understand. He did not like itone bit.

"No. Please, no. I'll do anything instead. Let Esha go!"

"Now, now Araan. Is this any way to talk to your father?Come now, you will leave come daybreak." Just like that, he was gone.