The Sword of Abram by Vaughn Heppner

Author:Vaughn Heppner [Heppner, Vaughn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

In time, I found a small stream and cleaned my wound the best I could. It was already festering. I headed out, hoping to put more distance between the soldiers of the East and me.

The next day, I woke with a fever. For two days as the fever worsened, I lay moaning and sleeping. My thirst raged.

Finally, knowing I’d die without water, trembling, I crawled like a worm. I crawled back to the stream. There, I drank and collapsed from my ordeal.

I shivered myself awake and drank more. Each time I woke up, I crawled to the shore and drank my fill.

I was delirious the entire time, dreaming nightmares. In the nightmares, I learned that each people or place that received me after the shipwreck, lost something, or perhaps I should say had terrible luck. The Amurru lost to the slaving Amorites. The Amorites lost to the giants. The giants lost to Chedorlaomer.

Was there a reason for that?

After days of delirium, the fever broke. Weak and spent, I climbed to my feet. I wrapped my cloak around me and noticed that the wound was no longer festering, and was now healing. I slowly limped along, making my way in the direction of the Vale of Siddim.

It was difficult to go far. I wheezed, halted, and sat, resting. Eventually I climbed to my feet and limped until I wheezed again and rested once more.

At one point, I saw smoke rising from the south. The invader must have reached the outskirts of Mount Seir, beginning to attack the Horites.

Would the Easterners slay more giants? Would they capture those who’d lived under the protection of giants?

If the army of the East was engaged against the Horites, hopefully the runners, archers and swordsmen had joined them. That way, they wouldn’t be capturing and castrating those like me. I could actually hope to reach the Vale of Siddim, finding refuge there.

That evening, I fell in with five desperate souls. They looked like those who’d fought against the king of the East and lost. Wordlessly, they accepted me. They were as wretched as I was, except for one. He had food, a strong warrior, a spear-armed Amorite.

For some reason, the Amorite took mercy on us, allowing us to march with him. He didn’t offer us food but kept it to himself. He also slept alone, perhaps fearing we’d club him in his sleep.

I no longer had the strength to take his food, nor did I feel like sneaking up on him in the dark to kill him. I think he would have killed any of us who he caught trying.

I kept my wonderful dagger hidden in my rags. I endured, coming down from higher territory with them. We headed toward the southern shore of the Salt Sea, toward the lush vegetation of the Vale of Siddim.

The next day, we spied fruit trees in the distance. Later, a shepherd boy watched us.

We turned toward him, hoping he’d have food to spare.

The boy fled, his dog barking at us before running after his master.

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