sort all this out,” Cyn replied, looking at Jonas with uncertainty. Jonas couldn’t help but notice his eyes wander to his chest, which he had already covered with a cloak that he found on the ground.
Eight of the twenty mercenaries had been killed, including Rath, one of Landon’s personal assistants. The remaining twelve men joined Cyn, along with Landon, Allindrian, Jonas, and Fil around the large fire to discuss the nights attack. Jonas looked at the remaining men. He felt a deep sense of loss thinking of those who were no longer with them, men he had come to know and respect. Several of the warriors, including Landon, had wounds wrapped in clean cotton cloth, their blood soaking through, staining the cloth crimson.
“It makes no sense,” said Cyn. “Boargs rarely come down from the Tundrens and I have never heard of an attack so close to Finarth. And why would a follower of the spider queen be leading them, and why would they be attacking us?” asked Cyn impatiently. “Are the Forsworn stealing from trade caravan’s now?”
Allindrian replied, “I don’t know. I agree; it doesn’t make much sense. What could they be after? But I do know one thing; if it weren’t for Jonas then we would all be dead.” Allindrian looked at Jonas. “Now, I think it’s time you told us the truth.”
Jonas looked around at all the faces staring at him; some of them seemed unsure, and some a bit frightened. “I didn’t mean to deceive you. I just didn’t know what to say or how to explain it. I don’t understand everything myself.” He looked down at the ground, unsure where to start.
“Start from the beginning, Jonas,” Landon said. “How did you get that mark on your chest and how did you not succumb to the dark magic like the rest of us, including Allindrian?” Landon smiled at Jonas reassuringly, urging him to proceed.
Jonas looked up at Landon and saw no hint of animosity. He knew these people deserved the truth. He took a deep breath and began his tale. “I was born a cripple. I couldn’t move my legs and arms very well, even smiling or talking was sometimes difficult.” Jonas went on as the fire burned down, telling his new friends about his life, his mother, and his tough existence at Manson. He told them about the ridicule that was heaped upon him for years and the scorn that the townspeople had held for him and his mother. He told them everything, how he hid in the oven when the boargs attacked, how he and Fil began their journey to Finarth, and finally he told them about his mysterious dream in the cave.
Fil sat next to him, poking a stick into the fire, deep in thought as he listened to Jonas’s words and relived the story in his mind.
“And we had nowhere else to go,” Jonas continued. “So we waited for the snows to subside before we started our long trek to Finarth. We traveled for several weeks before we got to the crossroads, and met your caravan.” Jonas looked up at the men who were now staring at him, enthralled by his story. “And that is when we met you,” Jonas finished, not sure of what else to say.
Many moments went by as everyone took in Jonas’s story. It was not long, but it seemed like forever for Jonas, waiting for some sort of response, but finally Landon spoke. “Let me see that mark again.”
Jonas hesitated briefly before removing his tunic. The blue and silver mark covered his stomach and chest, the silver edges flickering in the firelight and the intricate work was startling. Fil’s eyes grew wide, moving closer to Jonas.
“What is it, Fil?” asked Jonas, somewhat taken back by Fil’s expression.
Fil looked closely at the mark as Jonas looked at him with trepidation. “The mark has grown, Jonas. It is bigger now. The branches are expanding towards your arms and the trunk of the tree is moving down your stomach,” he said with wide astonished eyes.
“What!” exclaimed Jonas, looking down at his chest. Sure enough, Fil was right; it had grown larger. Allindrian moved in close as well, to examine the mark more clearly. She took her hand and gently touched his bare chest, slowly running her long delicate fingers over the edges of the God Mark. Jonas’s spine tingled as her delicate fingers traced the edges of the mark.
“That is definitely a God Mark. They are very rare, usually only a