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The Sevens Prophets
Tale 3, Ch 1: The Sonof Scout

Tale 3, Ch 1: The Sonof Scout

“Explain to me, one more time, why you can’t transport us there yourself?” Jesson asked, still not understanding the White Prophet as he jolted inside the truck’s cabin. The dusty road was wearing on his nerves as well as his backside as he loosened his grip on the wooden steering wheel.

“It’s shifting, Captain Mills, and with the heavy amount of cargo we’re carrying I’d never be able to get there. I don’t know where this city is and that severely limits my power,” Tane said. The road and even the heat of the dry afternoon seemed to not affect her at all. She rode in the small cabin of the truck and seemed as if she were perfectly at home.

At the same time, she glared all around her with a look of impatience that made everyone else wish they could reach Filligree faster. It was the kind of motivating look that queens possessed. Cory had been with the frail-seeming, pale woman for a month and he was still somewhat in awe of her.

“Couldn’t you do it in intervals then?” Cory asked, and immediately felt like kicking himself for it. Tane’s stare of shock and annoyance made Cory shrink, yet again embarrassed from not holding his tongue.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Tane said flatly. “If we were just taking people, I could, but large objects are different. Don’t worry. I’ve laid out this schedule. Without any further delays we should make it on time.”

Cory, the young Red, sat in stark contrast to his fellow Prophet, jolting around and fidgeting as if he’d rather be walking. In reality, he’d rather be driving. He had suggested taking the wheel and going off road, but the fact that they were edged near Sonof territory meant they had to keep to the roads.

Cory held onto a handle over the window in the small cabin. The bouncing, covered back of the truck, which was about three quarters of the whole vehicle, made Cory worried the boxes on its flat floor would come untied and fly out the back. He also wished the Prophets would show the people of Soul how to make an independent spring suspension.

“Anything would be better than driving all the way there,” Jesson said as he checked the sun’s height. “We might make it there by sundown, maybe. But it’s better than most people can do. We’ve got trucks after all.” Jesson chuckled.

“They can go faster, you do realize that,” Tane said impatiently. “If we have to stop one more time for shepherds we may not be there in time.”

“We’re going at the safest speed possible, I assure you. It still amazes me, though,” Jesson, captain of an army unit, said.

Jesson Mills whipped his head around to the side window so suddenly that Cory jumped up. But whatever Jesson saw, it must have passed and he gave it only a shallow growl and turned back to the road. Cory sat down again and warily glanced at Tane. He sighed with relief when she simply sat unflinching.

“What’s that?” Cory asked, trying to renew the talk.

The other two soldiers, their chainmail shirts making them sweat, sat silently, doing a good job of not looking uncomfortable.

Jesson cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure. “That we can drive at all. If you told me twenty years ago that I’d be behind the wheel of this thing then I’d think you were crazy. All we had were the trains back then,” Jesson said.

“I heard they were noisy,” Cory said.

“Loud, yes. Those old model batteries made them sluggish, but not the ones we have now.” Jesson patted the truck’s wheel as it hit another bump. “Sure wish we’d find better than wooden shock absorbers, though. They wear out too fast.”

The rolling hills and green expanse went by as the passengers sat in silence. Cory wished he could spark further conversation, but Tane was not in the mood for talk. She sat staring at the sparse trees as if willing them to be the forest of where they were heading. Jesson wasn’t much better. Every bit of conversation ended once he looked out the window. The man hadn’t said much of the Sonofs, but every time he did the words spat out of his mouth, hating the very name of those wandering people.

Since this was a military convoy, three trucks with this one in the back, they were to go the whole distance with very few stops, mainly to let the batteries cool. They ate what little food they had for lunch inside the trucks. Cory pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle and set it in front of him, a large smile across his face. Tane eyed its contents for a second.

“You want some?” Cory asked. “It’s my mom’s recipe. I do my best to get it but, well, most places don’t exactly have overripened jame fruit or hang nuts available.” Cory laughed and Tane sniffed the air curiously.

“No thank you,” she said, and went back to her sandwich.

“I’ve always said try anything but the lyre once. But that’s a poor looking meal, Prophet,” Jesson said as Cory took a happy bite. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an edible brown fruit. And those nuts look like they have mold on them.”

“Hey, when you’ve got nothing else this is heavenly,” Cory said with a smile.

“Yes, but you have much else,” Tane said.

Cory shrugged, worried he’d upset the two again.

“And I quite like the lyre, Captain,” Tane added.

Jesson smiled and said, “You can say anything you want but it still won’t make me enjoy hearing people play that ridiculous—”

“There’s someone watching us,” Tane said suddenly, interrupting Jesson as the diamond-studded bracer on her arm glowed for an instant.

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“What?” Jesson asked, and stopped as he saw the truck in front of him pull to a stop. He yanked the long, black lever that put the wooden stoppers into the cogs and sighed with relief when nothing broke. “What now?”

Jesson got out, followed closely by his two men. Cory stumbled quickly over the seat in front of him to get out the door, tripping over it and nearly falling out.

He was fairly short, and somewhat mocked for his build when he was a Volunteer. But Cory never let his short stature or his skinny frame hold his inner strength back. And even though he looked fresh out of training, he’d been a Prophet for two years running, something he had to remind people of often.

“What is it?” Cory asked as he came up to the captain, walking to the front of the convoy.

“I don’t know yet,” he replied with impatience.

Jesson was tall, a flagpole of a man who looked more the part with his pressed and mail-lined grey army uniform. He put on his steel helmet and popped his fingers.

Cory looked around and readied himself. He felt eager to prove his worth in the field, as this was one of his first times he’d been let out without an elder Red to guide him. He saw Tane, her beautiful body covered with a thick cotton white shirt and slacks, casually hopping out of the truck, and wondered if he was being a little bit too eager. The woman, a head taller than Cory, didn’t bother to adjust her brilliantly yellow hair as it went all directions in the wind flowing over the hills.

At the front of the trucks, they saw the soldiers getting out, some strapping on their steel helmets and readying crossbows.

“What’s going on here, Grick?” Jesson asked a soldier.

“There, sir,” Grick Matten, the driver of the lead truck, said, a curved sword in his hand. He pointed it to a hilltop a few hundred feet away.

Cory put a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun and squinted a figure into focus. On the top of the green and yellow grass stood a tall man wearing clothes with many overlapping layers. At that distance, he could only make out the faint, dark colors of red and brown and the dark fur belt the bearded man wore. He stood motionless, holding a spear and staring down at the group.

“Sonof,” Jesson said with contempt.

“He’s not doing anything. And he’s only one guy — can’t we just move on?” Cory asked.

“No. There’s no telling what he’ll do if we just ignore him. He could relay our position. Ambushes are known to happen in these parts. You men, crossbows on the left flank, pikes on the right. I don’t want to get caught with my pants down here.” Jesson pointed to his men and gave orders, all the while keeping a burning stare on the man.

“Shepherds and farmers are the only ones who ever use this road. Spotting a convoy like this will arouse the suspicion of all the Sonofs,” Tane said as she approached. “So let’s take care of him and get moving. Time is of the essence or need I remind you, Captain.”

“You don’t. But I’m not leaving here now, time be blown,” Jesson said, his mouth twisting in contempt.

“Don’t kill him. That’s against the treaty isn’t it?” Cory said.

“I helped write that treaty, Cory. It states nothing that would hinder a civil or military unit from taking all measures necessary to ensure their technological development. And right now, this man is hindering us,” Tane said.

The men around the group tensed up. All twenty-five soldiers exited the three trucks and formed positions. Crossbows, pikes, and curved swords readied, the men prepared to do what was necessary. Jesson’s sword arm was in a fist, as if trying not to unsheathe his weapon.

“I don’t know if this man is a threat or not,” Jesson said.

“Then why did you just tell me he was?” Tane asked.

“Because I’m being cautious.”

“Then either kill him or send men to capture him,” Tane said simply and impatiently.

“Believe me I’d like to kill the Sonof, but he’s out of range.”

“Then I’ll shift you over there and you can—”

A single red flash ended their conversation. The man on the hill fell to his knees and rolled toward them like a rag doll, coming to a stop halfway down the hill. Tane and Jesson turned to Cory, who sheathed his red-bladed dagger.

“Why did you do that?” Tane asked.

Jesson didn’t hesitate, and said, “Blades, check the body!” He and half a dozen soldiers raced over to investigate the fallen man.

“He’s not dead, just stunned. I only used a tiny bit of energy, I think,” Cory said, hoping he hadn’t accidentally killed the man.

“You think?” Tane asked with an eyebrow raised high.

“Well it fixed the problem, right? We can figure out if he’s scouting us or not and we don’t have to attack him to do it.”

Tane sighed, and checked the sun’s level. “This is nonsense,” she said, and grudgingly walked over to the Sonof.

The soldiers were just rousing him and held him upright. “He’s not armed,” one of the pikemen said.

“Except for this,” another said, handing Jesson a wonderfully worked, blue-handled skinning knife. Jesson put it in one of his belt pouches without looking, almost despising having it near him.

He bent down to look at the now conscious man. “What are you doing here?” Jesson asked.

“I am making sure that you stick to the road,” the Sonof said after clearing his throat and shaking himself.

Cory had never heard or seen a Sonof before. There was a strange, almost musical quality to the way the man spoke.

“That’s an honest answer,” Jesson replied.

“It’s one of the things they value highly,” Tane said.

“Lying isn’t natural,” the Sonof responded simply. Cory was amazed at how calm the man was, though he shifted a bit trying to find a more comfortable way to be held.

“From what I’ve known, not lying is inhuman,” Jesson said. “So tell me, naturally then, do you know the purpose of our journey?”

The Sonof remained quiet. Cory didn’t know why this question was significant. Guarding a shipment of large trucks was nothing important.

“Ah, I see. That not lying bit works even when you don’t say anything,” Jesson said. He looked over the man for a second and nearly growled with anger. “What’s your name?”

“Jessie Sonoforn,” the man said proudly.

Jesson paused a moment, as if thinking the name over in his head.

“Split,” Jesson ordered.

His men released the Sonof and backed away. Jessie Sonoforn had a few moments to look confused before Jesson, in one swift motion, plunged his sword directly into the man’s heart then removed the nearly dry blade. He walked away without looking back and wiped his sword on a cloth. Cory almost screamed in shock, but the strike killed the man instantly. Jessie didn’t even have a chance to look surprised.

Cory grabbed the dead man nonetheless and slowly let him fall to the ground. The others were already walking back to the trucks. Cory shouted, “Hey! I knocked him out so we didn’t have to—”

“Quit complaining, Cory, we don’t have time. We’re leaving now,” Tane said, and got back on the truck without looking back.

The batteries of the trucks kicked on and the first few already started to move ahead. Cory looked down at the dead man, his eyes still staring proudly.

He wanted to yell, he wanted to bite, he even wanted to stab he was so angry and hurt. No, I’m a Prophet. I can’t let this get to me. The Uniteds need me. I have to help them, Cory thought, and jumped in the truck as it started picking up speed.