Noman (eBook)

Marty McWilliams (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2021 | 1. Auflage
444 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-0983-9620-6 (ISBN)

Infos

'Noman' is the story of an individual trying to leave his past and avoid his future. Despite determined efforts, he becomes the unwitting pawn of powers larger than himself. The opening of the story finds Noman in the process of flight. His world is dominated by a repressive religio-political system. Through the offering of human sacrifice, the forces of Chaos are subdued, and an unnatural order prevails. Finally overwhelmed by his role in the evil of this Order, the man attempts escape to the far reaches of the realm. This is a compelling story that is unique - not quite fitting into standard fantasy fare. Beyond being a nice action yarn filled with violence and supernatural overtones, there also are deep undercurrents for the more cerebral reader - encompassing theology, psychology, and philosophy.

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"e;Noman"e; is the story of an individual trying to leave his past and avoid his future. Despite determined efforts, he becomes the unwitting pawn of powers larger than himself. The opening of the story finds Noman in the process of flight. His world is dominated by a repressive religio-political system. Through the offering of human sacrifice, the forces of Chaos are subdued, and an unnatural order prevails. Finally overwhelmed by his role in the evil of this Order, the man attempts escape to the far reaches of the realm. This is a compelling story that is unique - not quite fitting into standard fantasy fare. Beyond being a nice action yarn filled with violence and supernatural overtones, there also are deep undercurrents for the more cerebral reader - encompassing theology, psychology, and philosophy. The influence of Chaos has a pronounced impact on Noman's character and morality. His becomes a degenerative slide from virtue to psychopathic madness. As he loses himself and hits moral bottom, Noman awakens to his greatest conflict - whether to embrace selfish ambition or sacrifice himself for the greater good. The fate of the universe hinges upon his decision.

Textauszug

CHAPTER ONE

SANCTUARY

Like a dry autumn leaf driven by winter wind, the solitary figure hurried down the road. Leaning forward he seemed to stumble more than walk. Each footstep animated a tiny cloud of gray dust that quickly dissipated into the air.

Everything about the man was incongruent. The garb he wore seemed to have been assembled from remnants gathered along the course of travel. A haggard face was barely visible beneath the wide brim of a tattered black hat. That once fashionable hat now hung limp like a withered field-daisy. The edges of the brim were frayed slightly and the shiny fabric band encompassing the hat dangled loosely in the back.

Mirroring the hat were eyes–dull and listless eyes–punctuating the face. They were eyes that articulated almost as much hopelessness as the hollow sockets of a dry skull. The ill-fitting clothes were encrusted with the grime of travel. They hung indifferently from his lank frame. A black leather bag dangling from a long strap completed the strange ensemble. Shuffling down the dusty road the man looked like a scarecrow chased from the field by renegade ravens.

For weeks this traveler wandered aimlessly seeking a place of sanctuary. He had followed one nameless road after another until his meandering way brought him to the road he was now traveling. Some flee from enemies, some from memories. No one knew the trouble that stood at the beginning of his road. One way or another, though, this pilgrim’s journey was drawing to a close.

Whether his direction was guided by volition, chance, or some more deliberate force, the man was approaching the sleepy little borough of Chelise. Topping a final hill he was able to gaze upon the fragile naivete of a town unwittingly extending the hope of refuge.

The traveler knew nothing of the town, but the town already knew of him. A million inanimate eyes were anxiously watching his approach. The stones, the trees, the fences, and the buildings were all appraising this strange fellow and none liked what they saw. Though voiceless at his arrival, the quiet little place held its silent opinion and was regretting this long anticipated meeting. Nothing exists in isolation from the complex of action and reaction that constitutes the universe. Chelise was a town whose past was inextricably interwoven with this stranger and whose destiny would largely depend upon the actions he would take. This humble hamlet so seemingly inconspicuous was actually the nexus of a master plan.

Light and shadow blend differently in Chelise. For as long as anyone knew daylight and darkness were indefinite. Although most days in Chelise reflected natural law, there were times when one of the kingdoms encroached on the other at the time of transition. When that happened the winds moaned and the clouds swirled. The phenomenon was locally understood as being the eternal struggle between good and evil. Little did the people know how close they were to the truth.

However weary of soul the traveler might have been, the thought of a new beginning brought a glimmer of hope to his otherwise lifeless eyes. The past had been hard and leaving it even harder. Unlike Chelise, this one knew no apprehension. In fact, he knew little. He was no longer sure of anything. His flight from reason left him ready to embrace anything offering even a semblance of hope.

This man was one of those ill-fated souls who proceed on an inexorable course toward pathos. No twist or turn of volition can alter that course. It winds through valley after valley of deep shadows that only the cursed can appreciate. Every move toward life and light only leads to the mockery of a more encompassing darkness. Hope repeatedly rewarded with misfortune is the greatest darkness of all. So much better for such afflicted souls to die in the crib than dance the melancholy waltz of life’s bitter way.

The townspeople themselves were oblivious to this new presence. They went about their way without even the slightest suspicion of the trouble now approaching. There were more pressing concerns to the people of Chelise than the appearance of a single stranger. As the brief visit of the winter sun drew to a close the town was in the process of bedding down against the onslaught of twilight chill. Such was life and priorities in Chelise. It was a simple place with a simple agenda: survive another day with a modicum of misery.

A lone wagon scarred from countless wounds and pitted with worm holes passed the determined figure as he neared the town. It had obviously hauled many heavy loads during its lifetime. The ragged, rough-hewn affair was drawn by a mule who half-walked, half-jogged a bouncy obedience. His ears bobbed rhythmically as if in cadence to the squeaking of the rig.

From atop the wagon a stern-faced farmer surveyed the stranger. As the pair made eye contact he offered an uncommitted nod. His dark pants and faded woolen overcoat underscored an unadorned life. A heavy leather hat sat atop unkempt grey hair and a thick creme scarf protected his neck from the cold. With scant acknowledgment the haggard traveler pressed on.

For many miles the road had been bounded by a thick expanse of naked trees. Like countless skeletons awaiting resurrection the trees lifted emaciated prayer-fingers toward the heavens. They pled for whatever gods might attend to redeem them from winter dearth. In so doing, the trees formed a magnificent lattice of darkly intricate patterns against the overcast gray sky. That raw beauty presently yielded to the more manicured appearance of civilization. The trees here were placed in orderly patterns and nature was held at bay with long fences. It is the human energy to topple nature from its throne whenever possible in order to create the illusion of security.

On the right a fallow field of dry weeds waved in acknowledgment of the stranger's presence. High overhead a majestic hawk gracefully circled in his quest for an evening meal. The winged predator briefly assessed the form on the road, pumped his mighty wings twice, and then glided on toward more promising regions.

On the left side of the road was the house that sheltered the field’s servant. It was a simple white structure in a state of mild disrepair that depicted the struggle of forcing livelihood from an unwilling land. The spartan image of asperity was broken, however, by the unpretentious aura of family life. Such life provides one of the few real refuges available to humankind. Warm, golden light glowing in the windows defied the gray world outside. Within those walls existed a fragile haven from a hostile world.

Upon reaching the bottom of the hill the man passed between huge pillars that long ago held a gate designed to prevent unwanted access to the town. A massive wall, fully five feet thick and perhaps fifteen feet high had once encircled the town. Now only remnants were left to memorialize the town’s former “security.”

Here at the gateposts most of the stones had tumbled from the uppermost positions as the exhausted mortar holding them finally crumbled. In their collapse a deviate order was born. Nature’s triumph allowed the universal to once more assume its proper array. As if to affirm this victory vines wove a lace shawl about the stone sentries. The formerly mighty wall was now a mere testament to the true poverty of human ingenuity.

Sentries were themselves a relic from the past. In earlier times marauding troops of hill people feasted on villages like Chelise. Chelise, Gal, Sater, and the other nearby villages were then prosperous agrarian communities. The land was fertile and the seasonal rains conducive to bounty.

In contrast, land in the thin-soiled hills was not so productive. Despite their most determined efforts the harvest yielded little for the hill people. Ethnic conflict prevented any interaction with the people of the valley. The valley folk patiently waited for the curse of the hill people to eventually eradicate them. Though the reasons for this enmity were lost in the haze of history, the economic and hubristic advantages perpetuated ostracism of the hill dwellers.

Life, however, manages to squeeze through even the strongest fingers of oppression. Hunger and resentment eventually grew into more efficacious expressions. The very hardships they endured gradually hardened the people of the hills into a force of warriors. All they needed was a leader, and one finally distinguished himself in the person of Kell. Kell was a huge man, standing about six and one-half feet tall. While he could easily do the work of three ordinary men it was his intelligence and cunning that really set him apart.

As a child Kell lived the plight of his people. He came to despise his kinsmen for their cowardess almost as much as he grew to hate the valley people for their merciless greed. He heard the children cry because their stomachs were empty while the elders admonished a more perfect harmony with nature. Nature, Kell knew, was unmoved by the suffering of the people. He vowed that he would one day lead his people to a better life.

Kell distinguished himself as an adolescent. He was as tall as a grown man by the time he was thirteen. At fourteen he could work as hard as anyone and at fifteen he could work harder. When he was sixteen Kell dominated the annual Feats of Strength and by nineteen the elders...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 1.8.2021
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy
• ISBN-10: 1-0983-9620-0 / 1098396200
• ISBN-13: 978-1-0983-9620-6 / 9781098396206