Terror of the Shadow

CHAPTER EIGHT

The thin flaps of the tent opened, and a man and a woman stepped inside. Their robes were long, plain and black, and the edges skirted the floor. Their hair and faces were much neater than the ordinary citizen of Ura-chan. They looked around for only a moment before noticing Laban on his cot.

"Laban?" the woman asked.

"Yeah?" he replied. "Who wants to know?"

"I am Lady Nairaiah. This is Master Samalech. How are you recovering?"

"I'm... recovering," Laban replied.

"Very good," said Lady Nairaiah, smiling. "Do you think you can walk?"

"Walk? Sure. Am I going somewhere?"

"Follow us," Nairaiah said. "The Elders wish to speak with you."

"I beg your pardon," Laban said. "But you don't exactly look... well, old enough to be called elders."

"No," Nairaiah said. "We are merely students—disciples. Our duty is to ensure that the ancient knowledge of our forebears is not lost."

"So what do the Elders want with me?" Laban asked

"It is customary to... report any incidents such as you had to the Elders of the clan," said Samalech. "It won't be long, and I can assure you it will be very painless," he laughed kindly.

The two helped him to his feet. He used a bent stick as a crutch under his right arm. It had taken some convincing, but eventually, the nurses allowed Laban to be taken out from under their supervision, at least for the short few moments Samalech had promised.

They led Laban through the winding corridors and alleyways of the tightly-packed village. It was slow moving since Laban had to lean heavily on his cane. Nairaiah and Samalech glided smoothly on their feet, seeming to float across the sand as fluidly as the wind across the desert.

Hastily constructed shacks, threadbare tents, and makeshift houses dotted their path. The others had told him that their village was built on the remnants of an old city. There were the remains of some brick structures or centuries-old masonry, but no more than a few walls here and there served as evidence of the great city that was.

They passed beneath a tattered awning, spanning the narrow gap between two crumbling brick walls. Looking up, Laban could see the blue sky through its many holes. The sky seemed to shimmer and shake like the surface of water— evidence of the powerful shield generator that protected their settlement from the harsh rays of the sun and toxic atmosphere.

"Have you ever been to this part of the settlement?" Samalech asked as they neared the edge of the shield's dome.

"No," Laban replied. "I had no idea that it even stretched out this far. The city is so much bigger than I thought."

"Yes, indeed," Lady Nairiah said. "Ura-chan has grown much in recent years. Our efforts to rescue other villages have not been in vain."

"So, where are you taking me?" Laban asked.

"Quite near here is the abode of the elders of our tribe," Samalech replied. "Do you happen to know why this clan set up base in this spot?"

"There was a town here, once. But that was a long time ago."

"Yes. Malkuth was a great nation at one time... I'm sure you've heard stories. We were not always refugees, always on the run. Until—"

"Until the Territes destroyed us," Laban interrupted.

Lady Nairaiah smiled softly. Her eyes reflected genuine kindness, but it was the sort of smile one gives when you have said something wrong, but they are too kind to admit it.