Blades of lighting slashed through the dark showing for a second horrendous things in the night. The incessant rain only added to the eeriness of the moment. They, however, rode on. Two men on horses, braving the elements. Their cloaks billowed about them. They soon came to a stop near a ragged hut in the middle of the forest. The taller of the two, stared long and hard at the creaky door. Finally he pushed the door open . . .

---

Sletzar was a King. He was a cruel, ruthless and tough person. However he was the king and his will was the way. He had spent seventeen long years on the battlefield since the tender age of sixteen. The death and mayhem he had seen and caused had hardened his heart. He had seen so much rape and pillage that his very soul was immune.

His people lived under his absolute dominion. Needless to say they were unhappy. The human spirit rejects vehemently authority of any sort. They did what any self respecting human would do. They rebelled. Sletzar was a master general. His army struck in small groups. His elite personal guard went sleepless for 15 days collecting the heads of the rebel lords.

The end of the rebellion came as swiftly as it had begun. The people did what any other crushed people would do. They prayed. They prayed as the lifted their dead of the heaps on the carts in the town square. They prayed as they washed the blood off the streets. They prayed as they smiled at Sletzar as he rode victorious through the streets. They prayed.

Prayer is a powerful force. When the intent is pure, it is answered. When it is acollective effort, it positively mows down the opposition.

Sletzar was in the battle room one day discussing new plans with his generals. The heavy oak doors flew open and an old woman walked in. She was dressed in ragged clothes and her clothes smelt of the swamps. She held a staff that was much taller than her. Sletzar looked beyond her and saw his elite personal guards lying in a heap, immobile. Fourteen trained warriors had been reduced to nothing by a doddering old woman. He spoke politely to her, "How may I help you milady?". His voice was steady as was his gaze. The old woman had eyes that were surprisingly alert. She looked straight at him and made queer signs in the air. She walked all around him muttering softly and making gasping noises. Sletzar knew better than to turn around and look. She finally stopped before him. His generals were shivering with fright. He felt surprisingly calm. He somehow felt he knew this woman was to come. He looked at her expectantly.

" You will die in 13 days", she said and walked away. Sletzar gasped! His death sentence was given in such a matter of fact voice, it stunned him. It scared him. Before he could say a thing she whipped around looked at him and pointed a very dry and old finger at him. "Come to the hut at the end of the swamps if you want to live." Sletzar rode out with his most trusted general.

---

The old lady ushered them in and made the general sit a little away. Sletzar and the old woman sat at a table. Sletzar saw 5 tarot cards laid out ready for him. They all lay face down. The woman hung her face down and started humming some incantations in a low voice. Her grimy hair fell over her face and Sletzar was left staring at a mass of matted hair. She slowly looked up and Sletzar gasped. Her eye sockets were empty and Sletzar was looking at emptiness. She picked up the cards and spread them out in front of him. She was explaining the significance of each card to him. " This is the jester, this is the virgin. This one is the King, the wolf and finally the grim reaper. This is the one you must fear."

Sletzar stared at the card. It was a grusome image of a skeleton in a dark cloak. In one hand he held a yellow rose and in the other hand there was a long and very sharp reapers blade. The grim reaper. The reaper of souls. Somehow the rose seemd more deadly. She shuffled the cards and laid them out for him.

The woman spoke in a calm voice, "Pick a card". For the second time in his life Sletzar saw his hand quiver. The first time had been when he held the sword for the first time when he was 6. He picked a card from dead center and handed it to the woman. She did not even look at it as she showed it to him. It was the reaper his hideous grin sending shivers down Sletzars' spine. The general moaned from his corner and the old lady screamed at him throwing a ladle at him. She threw the card with the grim reaper on the floor and looked at the cards." Pick another", she said. Sletzar confidently withdrew a card and gave it to the woman with an uncertain smile on his face. She flipped it around for him to see. It was the grim reaper again! Sletzar was speechless as he looked at the card. She threw it aside and asked him to pick another one. Sletzar stared long and hard at the three cards before him and slowly picked one and looked at it. The reaper seemed relentless. The card fell away from SLetzars hand and he looked at the last two cards with a ghoulish smile on his face. He picked another card and laughed uncontrollably nwhen he saw the same card again. He was still laughing when he got up and stared at the last card. He roared and pulled out his sword ina bid to strike the old woman down. She rose up with surprising agility and held Sletzar by the throat. Even as he stared into the hollows that were his eyes, he could see a change come over her. The ragged clothes were creepeing over her head and her skin began to stretch across her face. The sagging old skin was stretching taut across her skull.

Her skull!! Lord!! He could see her skull now! The ragged clothes were gone. They were replaced by a thick cloak. Smooth and shining. The hand that held him felt bony and hard. He saw it was pure white bone! He was staring into the eyes of the grim reaper. He raised his sword only to feel the reapers other hand reach into his heart. The bony hand went right in and there was no blood whatsoever. He felt a tightening and saw the reaper step back letting Sletzar fall. In the reapers hand was a pale shadow of himself. The reaper held it up and a Hessian horseman came riding through andn dragged Sletzars' soul off with him. The reaper gently gripped the blade and looked toward the general. The man was quaking with fear and was on his knees before the reaper. He heard a voice. The voice of the reaper. His mouth did not move but the words entered his head from somewhere.

"So shall die Sletzar.
Not in the battlefield as a hero.
Not on the throne like a king.
But like a commoner in ignominy,
Like a coward, in fear of death."

With that he walked out of the room. The general slowly looked at Sletzars' prone body. On his chest was a very fresh, beautiful and sweet smelling yellow rose.

Copyright 2007 sarat
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