The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [42]
As he approaches them, he takes note of Khalim, the only young man to have survived the ill-fated second expedition to the battlefield. That is if you can call having lost his mind and constantly gibbering incoherently surviving. Nothing they’ve attempted has done anything to restore his mind back to him.
A feeling of dread comes over Zyrn when he sees Khalim’s arms are bound behind him. The grim set of the men’s faces does nothing to alleviate the feeling. Kicking his horse faster, he rushes to meet the approaching group.
“What are you doing with him?” he asks, gesturing to Khalim.
“We go to appease the gods,” replies Maki, the one who has most fervently purported the theory of the gods being angry.
“Khalim has brought this doom upon us,” another states. “Had he died with the others, the grayness would not be seeking him.”
“Is that what you think?” asks Zyrn in disbelief.
“Yes,” asserts Maki. “Only his death at the hands of the grayness will appease the gods.”
“You are wrong!” Zyrn exclaims. “He is blameless for this!” Bringing his horse before Maki he says, “I will not allow you to do this.”
“Stand aside Zyrn,” Maki says. The others with him are unsure of themselves, but Maki glances back and hardens their resolve. “We do this for the survival of our village.”
Another of the men says, “You yourself said that if the grayness isn’t stopped, it will come to the village and destroy us all.”
“We will satisfy the gods with our piety and devotion,” Jatta asserts. Jatta, one of the elders of the village, is hardly someone Zyrn would believe to be party to something like this.
“All you will do is kill an innocent man!” he yells. “Will the blood of an innocent appease the gods? Do not fool yourself into a course of action that will damn you for all eternity.” He meets the eyes of each of them and sees his words are having little effect. Fear, fear of the unknown has robbed them of their senses.
Knowing he will be unable to sway them with words, he reaches out and takes hold of Khalim’s arm. Just before he pulled the mad young man onto his horse, he hears a whisk of a sword leaving its sheath.
“Take your hands off him,” Maki says. The point of his sword is but inches away from Zyrn’s throat.
Zyrn’s gaze bores into that of Maki’s. Releasing Khalim’s arm, he stares at the men before him.
“Go home Zyrn,” says Jatta.
“Let us do what must be done to save our village,” Maki tells him. Still holding his sword, the threat of bodily harm hangs between the two men should Zyrn continue in his attempt to stop them.
“Don’t do this,” he again pleads with them.
Ignoring his plea, they begin moving again. Walking around Zyrn’s horse, they head out toward the grayness.
Zyrn watches them go, a tear in his eye. What madness! Khalim will die because they are afraid. Turning his horse toward his village, he races across the desert. If he can get there in time, he might be able to convince others to go with him to rescue Khalim.
When his village comes into view, Zyrn knows he will not be too late if they can return quickly. Wailing comes to him as he draws closer. He finds the family of Khalim grief stricken.
As he approaches the outlying buildings, the people take note of his arrival. None are able to meet his eyes.
“Maki plans to sacrifice Khalim!” he cries out to a group of men standing together. “We must stop him. If we leave now we may be able to get there in time!” None of the men make a move or even raise their eyes to look at him. Then Zyrn understands, they all made the decision to sacrifice Khalim and are too ashamed to meet his eyes.
Off to one side he sees Khalim’s father. Riding over to him he says, “Surely you will seek to save the life of your son?”
With downcast eyes Khalim’s father replies, “I have three other children Zyrn. We have to think what is best for the village.”
“How can you say that?