Bob's 2004 NaNoWriMo Entry

2004 National Novel Writing Month

November Rising: The Trinity Stone

Chapter 1

Riders at daybreak

“Zha-KriKei! Zha-KriKei! The Zha-KriKei are coming!”

The voice was faint at first, coming from the over the raised hill at the outskirts of the village.

“Zha-KriKei! Zha-KriKei! Take cover and hide!”

A bit louder this time, as if approaching the river bridge to the south.

“Zha-KriKei!” came the voice, now followed by the sound of hooves striking the planks of the bridge. The source of the warnings was close to the edge of town now, and the voice was coming from a man on horseback.

Glimmers of sunlight danced between the leaves barely clinging to the branches and covered in a mid-autumn, early morning dew. The day had barely arrived and most of the town of Twindale was being woken by the news to stay out of sight.

A few of the men had already been out to feed the some of their livestock and start their work. As the voice became louder the message could no longer be ignored, and they quickly made their way back to their homes and shut the doors.

“Zha-KriKei! Stay inside,” came the warning, now just outside the first buildings. The horse was led down the main road that ran north from the top of the bridge into the center of town by twisting from the east to the west between the houses. The cry was repeated… “Zha-KriKei! Zha-KriKei!”

Throughout the village curtains were being pulled back while eyes tried to gather the sights in from outside.

The horse continued to make its way into the heart of the town.

“Almost there,” thought the man on top of the steed. “Almost there.” One more turn to go and he would be able to see his barn across the commons.

“Zha-KriKei” he shouted. “They’re coming! Zha-KriKei!”

Wordlessly, just a quick flip of the wrists on the reins, and the horse broke to the left around a fence and onto the path that would bring him home.

As the path began to widen, the horse suddenly twisted and kicked up the dirt to bring itself to an immediate halt.

Four dark figures were mounted and waiting in the center of village. The wind was spinning leaves around in the air, and it was strong enough to sweep their black capes up as the colored flecks danced around their heads and around the flowing fabric.

“Zha-KriKei” he said. But this time it was barely audible, barely a whisper. It was a disbelieving realization of what was in front of him.

Just five miles away he had seen them. There was no way they could have beaten him here… he was too far ahead. Had too much of a start. But there they were.

The horse closest to him stuttered a bit and then moved forward a bit. The remaining three urged their steeds along as well, but remaining lined behind their leader.

When the gap closed to about ten feet, the figure on the nearest horse raised his head. A black leather hat had a wide brim, bent down to conceal his eyes. He tipped his head back until barely setting his view into the eyes of the shaking villager. His right hand released the reins and stretched out.

“Where?”

Although barely a few seconds, an eternity seemed to pass. He had no idea what the rider was asking him.

Shaking, he sputtered the best answer he could. “Wh-wh-where is… where is what?”

Seba had crawled out of his bed, and walked quickly and silently toward the front door. His mother and father turned to see him there.

“Sebastian!” his father shouted silently between gritted teeth. “Get back to your bed and stay quiet.”

Seba turned to head back up to his bed, but curiosity got the best of him. Staying downstairs, he went over to the secret door that he and Tessa had cut so they could pet the sheep in back of the house without going outside. He flipped the latch and opened the gate. Two sheep immediately came over to him, and he shoved them out of his way.

“Move it you two. Can’t you see I’m trying to be quiet?”

Seba crawled into the pen and made his way over to the corner of the house. Peeking around he could see Mr. Andrews and four shadowy men on their horses. He closed and rubbed his eyes. The strange riders were out of focus. To his it looked as though they were melting before his eyes, the edges of their flowing capes wisps of black smoke that streaked away like smoke leaving a flame on a windy day.

Andrews was pleading with the riders. “Please, please. I don’t understand what you want.”

The three that had been in the back now divided, drew alongside the one in front, and continued until they had formed a semi-circle around Andrews and his horse.

Andrews looked back and forth at the riders. He slowly began to dismount.

“Wha… what do you want? Tell me. I’ll… I’ll help if I can. What do you want?”

The lead rider hadn’t moved while the others changed there position. Arm still outstretched at Andrews, he again spoke a single word. “Where?”

On the ground now, Andrews stepped away from his horse. The animal turned and charged off in the direction they had come, almost striking Seba as he pulled his head back into the pen just in time to let the horse pass without being struck.

His heart racing, Seba drew a deep breath and peeked back around the corner, this time exposing only enough of himself to see what was happening.

“Where?”

Andrews was visibly shaking, and seemed almost unable to support his weight as he legs swayed beneath his body. “Please… please… I don’t have what you want.”

The words had barely left his mouth when all four riders reached under their capes and drew out what appeared to Seba to be branches. They were about four feet long and appeared to be the width of his father’s walking cane.

All four raised the sticks above their heads and a crackle filled the air. The first rider lowered his stick swiftly toward the ground and from above a loud clap of thunder sounded as a bolt of light broke from a cloud and struck Andrews. He gasped, fell to his knees and looked up. His mouth opened as if to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. The other three riders lowered their canes to the echoes of thunder and crackling. As their arms came to their sides, Andrews collapsed to the ground.

The horse paced a few strides in different directions, and then all four began to look around. Seba pulled back again, uncertain if he had been seen. He could here the horses begin to move… slowly.

They were coming his way!

He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, moving his body tight against the house and as low to the ground as he could. Just as the first horse passed the edge of the house it sounded like they were picking up speed. Seba kept his eyes closed, but began to breath deeply and quickly as the sounds of the horses disappeared in the distance. When he heard them four on the bridge he could barely hear their steps. That’s when he opened his eyes.

And saw his father.

“Young man,” he began with his glance sternly fixed on Seba, “get in this house. Now.”

Seba raced to the door his father had left opened, went up to his bed and pulled the covers over his head.