44 Like Lambs to a Slaughter

The shabby wagon continued down the dirt road. Every pothole jarred the miserable occupants inside. Nearly everyone was regretting their life choices up to that point, everyone but Professor Kal. He was sitting up front in the driver's seat holding the reigns and singing a song that no one had ever heard before.

It was nearly fall, which made the current weather that much more confounding. There were no clouds in the sky and hardly a breeze to take the heat away. Dust devils could be seen whirling further up the road and even the insects were taking shelter under any shade they could find.

Professor Treffle had joined the students in the back of the wagon, finding the rays of the sun too hot to bear. It seemed like she had a permanent scowl on her face as she jostled around with every bump on the road. Ryan and Laura had their legs hanging off the back of the wagon, watching the scenery pass by them slowly.

The wagon started to slow to a crawl. "Whoa there." Everyone could hear Professor Kal urging the horses to stop.

"Alright, we'll set up camp here. Benjamin and Ryan, you two go get some firewood. Richard and Laura, set up the tent." Professor Kal turned towards them from the driver's seat and started issuing orders.

They had stopped near a small, wooded area. Several ruts in the ground showed that this must have been a popular area for many travelers to stop in. Ben and Ryan begrudgingly shuffled off into the woods in search of dry wood while Laura looked around in confusion, not seeing a tent anywhere in sight.

"Uh, Professor, I don't see a tent anywhere." She said, walking up behind him while he was unhitching the horses.

"Ah, right, sorry. Here ya go!" He said before waving his hand and causing a large pile of canvas and wooden poles to materialize in front of her.

The unassembled tent was nearly as tall as she was. If she had to guess it looked like it could sleep at least ten people. She didn't even know where to begin in putting this thing together, she had never spent a single night outside let alone put a tent together. Professor Kal turned back around to tend to the two malnourished horses, leaving her to her plight.

Shaking her head, she wiped off some sweat from her forehead. "Let's get started Richard."

…..

Night was beginning to fall and the temperature along with it. The slaves that had been toiling in the heat of the day finally received some much-needed relief. The last of the buildings had just been finished. What stood before them was a fortification that any nobleman would be proud to call their home. Although they were only slaves, many of them felt a sense of accomplishment for what they had achieved.

Stone walls reached almost as high as the tallest trees, thick enough for two people to walk abreast atop of them. Watch towers dotted the top of the walls giving whoever sat inside a clear view of the forests surrounding them. Inside the walls other than the large communal hut the slaves slept in, there were stables that had been built, large enough to house thirty warhorses. Next to the stables stood a barracks, a deep basement had been dug underneath to store weapons. Smaller storehouses were spread out evenly, dug deep into the earth to provide cooler temperatures to whatever food was placed inside.

The largest building that stood was the lord's main hall. It was built with the same stone that the walls were comprised of. The slaves had worked tirelessly to refurbish each room, replacing rotted wooden floors and ceilings. The only room they were forbidden to enter was the main hall, the lord himself was the one to repair everything inside.

"John! John! Are you finished yet? It's getting dark, and I hear the Lord is offering us a special meal inside the great hall, so hurry up!" A lanky slave yelled out to his friend who was just putting on the finishing touches to a well house he had been working on.

Wiping sweat from his face with a dirty rag, John addressed his friend. "Don't ya worry, I just finished." Closing the door to the well house behind him, John walked back towards his friend. "What do you think he's gonna feed us?"

Shrugging his shoulders, the lanky slave replied. "No idea, whatever it is it's sure to beat the hard tac and dried meat we usually eat."

John had been a salve for the majority of his life, ever since he was eight. His parents had sold him into slavery one particularly harsh winter. Food was short and they were starving, they managed to get two gold coins for him. They could have gotten more if John had been a girl, maybe twice as much. He had been through several different masters over the years, some worse than others. This particular master has been, by far, the best.

They were allowed to eat two times a day, actual food at that. No more were the days of boiling leather to try and get some protein in their meals. This allowed them to get more work done during the day since they had the energy from eating real food. Breaks were also allowed, as long as they got the job done and didn't slack off too much the Lord allowed them to do as they pleased. There were also no slave drivers around, they didn't have to worry about getting whipped or beaten if they didn't work fast enough.

Slapping John's shoulder, his friend guided him into the large communal area. "Let's get cleaned up before we head over. I wouldn't want to smell myself while eating something delicious."

"I wouldn't want to smell you either." John said with a laugh, pushing his friend away from him.

…..

John was standing in the middle of the great hall inside the Lord's 'manor'. That's what the slaves called the large building the Lord would stay in, although it really wasn't a manor in the conventional sense. He had gotten cleaned up and was wearing comfortable cotton clothing that the Lord had been kind enough to purchase for them all. He was happily talking to his fellow slaves, excited about the future that working for such a benevolent soul would bring.

Several hogs were roasting over pits, golems were turning them slowly at a steady pace. John had never seen magic before coming to this place. After watching his Lord perform it so often, he no longer found it to be strange. He wished he could learn a few spells, especially how to summon those golems. They were a huge help when it came to building, able to lift several thousand pounds and would cut down trees like they were cutting grass.

They all had full bellies and were happy, finally happy after a lifetime of slavery. The Lord had even brought in a few casks of wine, many of the slaves had never tasted wine before and were giddy from the alcohol. John felt it was like a dream. His head was floating after a few cups of that sweet wine. He was laughing with his friends and was even flirting with a cute female slave name Marcie. He was living the life.

"Do you know what any of this is?" Marcie asked him, looking down at the alien designs carved into the floor.

John looked down as well, he had seen the floor when they had first walked into this room. Of course, he had no clue what they were for, but had an idea that they had something to do with magic. He told Marcie that as well.

Marcie placed her small but callused hand on his arm, sending his heart into a fit. Usually, a master would never allow slaves of the opposite sex to mingle. That would produce unwanted children every time, no matter how hard the slaves tried to prevent it. John was a virgin, never knowing the touch of a woman, so everything he was experiencing now was new and very frightening.

A bright, intoxicated smile appeared on Marcie's face. "You're so smart John, I would never have thought it was related to magic." She pressed herself up against him, causing him to stiffen up in more places than one. "Oooo, look, it's glowing!" She suddenly said with a giggle, looking down.

John followed her stare, looking down at the ground. All of the patterns were starting to glow an eerie red. The other slaves had also noticed the strange phenomenon, commenting amongst themselves but still having smiles on their faces. He squatted down, running his fingers curiously through the red light. It felt almost cool to the touch, it was the opposite of what he thought red light would feel like.

Suddenly, the red light intensified. Now the entire large room, even up to the ceiling was filled with ominous crimson light. Fear finally made its way through the crowd of slaves, some started to try and leave the room, only to be blocked by the many golems that had appeared out of thin air. Marcie held onto John out of fear, digging her nails into his weathered skin.

With a flash, the red light brightened once more. John, Marcie, and the rest were forced to the ground, pressed into the wooden floor by a mysterious force. It was all John could do to lift his head off the ground and look around. Screams of pain and anguish were coming from his fellow slaves, his dream had turned into a living nightmare.

Footsteps sounded out, even overcoming the screams. John struggled but managed to turn his head towards the sound. There, standing bathed in the crimson light, was his Lord. He held an ancient book in his hand and was speaking in a language that was foreign to him. He reached out and called for his Lord, but it fell onto deaf ears. His Lord continued to read aloud from the book, the red light pulsating in rhythm to his words.

Silus was almost finished with the ritual, only a few more syllables needed to be spoken. The slaves were groveling in the middle of the magic circle, trying feebly to escape their fate. He'd lured them into the magic array with food and drink, it was much easier that way than to try and herd them into it like the cattle they were. Eyes of fear, hope, and condemnation were staring at him as he read aloud.

With one final verse, the spell was finished. The blood red light flashed, causing Silus to shield his eyes. The screaming stopped abruptly; silence reigned in the great hall. Silus opened his eyes to see that the fifty slaves had all turned into a bloody paste that filled every nook and crevice of the magical array.

He watched on in wonder as the runes and geometric shapes that had been so painstakingly carved, started to rotate and circle one another as if they were on water. A low hum sounded out as the magical array moved, growing louder with each passing second. A vicious wind blew throughout the hall, causing his robes to bellow.

After several seconds, the runes and shapes halted their movement and the humming stopped abruptly. Then, like a clash of lightning and thunder, a tear opened up inside the array. It reached nearly to the ceiling and was as wide as the circle itself. Sulfur filled the air, Silus could breathe fine, but a normal human would suffocate from the noxious fumes.

Silus took a step forward, anxious to see the fruit of his labor. From the size of the spatial tear, he was expecting some monstrosity to climb its way from the depths of hell and into the hall. His expectations were not met. A man with a build similar to his walked out of the spatial tear. He was wearing a pitch-black leisure suit with a white undershirt. His hair was crimson red and hung loosely over his shoulders.

The man perused his surroundings before his eyes fell upon Silus. "Ah, you must be one of Iscariot's children."