* * *
Mihai’s anger was nearing its boiling point. Long forgotten was her nagging thirst and queasy stomach. The growing fury welling up within her breasts over the abysmal condition of her imprisoned brothers was the only feeling her senses could gather up and deliver to her mind. These were not deeds done by the brutish hands of the degenerate Stasis. They might well torture, rape and murder out of revenge, hatred, or for the momentary gratification of some carnal instinct, but not on a scale of this magnitude, or at this level of viciousness.
The growing collection of torn and ruined bodies being presented to Mihai’s people was the deliberate handiwork of pathological psychoneurotic sociopaths. The Stasis had demented minds that made them act like rabid beasts, carrying out their evil more from instinct than premeditation. The people who did these horrendous acts had deranged hearts and decaying souls. No longer was there any decency remaining within them. Even foggy recollections of goodness and morality were long departed their memory.
When Mihai saw a guard stop the lead hostage, forcing him down on his knees to wait for the others to arrive, she had shouted orders to not allow any of Asotos’ people to cross over into his camp, stopping them directly behind the front line of her soldiers. She was now paying no heed to her protagonists, her full attention focused on the hostages assembling in front of her.
Trisha was not distracted. In fact, she had half expected to see this present reality, expected to see even worse. Stepping up close to Mihai’s side while intently observing events unfold, she watched Legion and Asotos very slowly backing away until they both stood behind several heavily armed guards. They were preparing for something to occur, and that something they must be expecting to come from her people.
Seeing only the suffering of her brothers and sisters, Mihai was unable to grasp that the destruction of body and mind she was witnessing was not random acts of loathsome beast-men bereft of heart and soul, but part of a well-orchestrated scheme with a more sinister purpose...at least that was what Trisha believed, indeed, anticipated. Scanning the maddening scene around her, she sighed under her breath, “So it has come to pass. Hell is delivered to Heaven’s heights. Look and see… I am Death, Destruction my lover. Today I set the universe ablaze, and Phoenix will burn, and the gods will bow low to the Children of Damnation.”
Crying aloud as tears welled up in her eyes, Mihai demanded that her people be released to them. “There is no reason to keep them any longer! Here are you kind. Now hand over to us ours!”
Legion raised his hand, shaking his head. “Patience... Patience... We will deliver them over to you when all have arrived. First you must see we are true to our word and that we will hand over all who wish to return to you.”
Mihai continued to argue to have the hostages released. Legion became angry, stating, “Many times have our sacred protocols been broken this day, your apologies providing proof of your sins regarding this. Our custom has always been to release our prisoners at one time. That is what we intend to do also this day.”
Audible sighs and groans went up from Mihai’s crowd when one of the hostage women was dragged some distance in the sand after she had collapsed. It was obvious she was suffering a dislocated shoulder along with a broken arm. Asotos’ guards paid no attention to the woman’s cries as they yanked her up by her manacled hands, screaming for her to stand.
Mihai’s right hand twitched, as if searching for something to grasp while with curses and oaths she shouted at Legion, “Stop such travesties!” Trisha watched a twinkling glint flash across the man’s eyes just before he raised a hand, directing his soldiers to assist the woman along. The guard holding the chain that bound the woman gave one more quick yank before obeying, the other guards with him laughing as he did so.
Legion dallied by delivering the captives to the staging area one at a time, leaving the others to wait aboard the prison barge until their respective turns came. Captain Kutill followed up the rear of the line, his 1st officer assisting him with the Zephath’s communications officer. The woman was so badly beaten and abused, she could not stand without the aid of her comrades. With their arms locked together around her, and her arms over their shoulders, the three slowly made their way toward the other hostages. All the while, Legion’s guards bullied, prodded, and cajoled the three into hurrying it up.
Mihai was enraged. “Give us our people ...now!” She shouted, angrily shaking her hand at Legion.
He grinned sinisterly, extending an opened palm. “You have not done well with your count. We are not finished.”
He looked over his shoulder, nodding to someone near a distant tracked machine. In a riotous explosion of noise, the iron monster sprang to life, sending a black cloud of smoke belching skyward. Amid the thunderous throbbing of its massive engine, the ancient tractor slowly began to move toward the crowd.
Lowenah’s children stopped, mouth agape in amazement and wonder as this behemoth from ages past came lumbering toward them. This was undoubtedly some deserted relic of a long-forgotten mining operation that been resurrected by Asotos’ people for the Prisoner Exchange. His mechanics must have labored countless hours to make it operational. If the intent of doing so was to garner attention, then Asotos had been successful.
Heavy steel tread plates tore deep into the loose sand, their well-worn rusty grousers tossing it about as they sank deep to gain traction for the heavy load the machine was pulling. Out of the belching smoke and swirling dust came the iron monster, trailing three metal boxcar skids behind it. The first car was an old ore container with a door installed in its side, the second a supply car, and the third, former living quarters for the miners and crew.
The tractor had been parked nearly half a league from where Lowenah’s children were. Anxious moments seemed to drag on endlessly as the giant hulk struggled forward, the tortured squeal of its heavy drive chains at times the only indication the machine was still moving. Ponderously the monster neared, the pungent stench of its oily, burnt smoke wafting across the breeze, heralding its arrival. As if with a dying breath, the tractor lunged forward in one final gasp before screeching to a stop about three rods behind Legion’s front line. The engine coughed again and died, sending one last plume of noxious smoke skyward. Then all was quiet.
The sudden silence filling the air was nearly as deafening as the roar of the beast preceding it. No one spoke, few dared even breathe. For Mihai’s people, it was the torture of the suspense waiting to see what horrid secrets lay hidden behind the sealed doors of the cars. For Legion and his conspirators, it was the intrigue of drawing out the suspense until Mihai and her people were stretched to their limit.
Legion carefully watched Mihai. When she was nearly at her breaking point, he addressed her. “For reasons beyond our control, we were forced to transport some of your rescued prisoners by means of this conveyance. As you will see, we have done what was considered best under the circumstances.” At that, he lifted his hand high, signaling to others behind him.
The door of the middle car squealed on it tracks, opening to disgorge two-dozen heavily armed storm-troopers onto the burning sands. Several of the troopers hurried to the forward car. As its rusty door grudgingly opened, several men on the ground grabbed their noses, laughing while pointing toward the door. Finally, an officer in charge ordered half a dozen of the men inside to retrieve the contents hidden in the darkness.
Complaining loudly, the troopers entered the boxcar to return quickly with a long black bag, which they promptly tossed from the door. Hitting the ground with a squishing thud, the bag ruptured, spilling part of its rotting contents into the sand.
What was spilt out of the torn bag upon the sands? What was Asotos up to? Necks craned while curious eyes carefully searched to see what this was all about. It was not until the second bag splat open upon the ground that the sickening smell of death and rot finally swept over Mihai’s people. These bags contained no rubbish, but
the decomposing bodies of friends and lovers!
Six more large black bags were unceremoniously dumped from the door of the car, each time the bag splitting asunder when hitting the ground. Mihai’s people erupted into an angry tumult, some falling to their knees in uncontrolled weeping, others smashing fists upon shields and armor as they howled toward the sky for war and revenge.
Mihai was on the very edge herself when Legion lifted his hands to speak. If not for the dread that might fall upon the bound hostages, Mihai would have drawn her weapon and skewered the man with her blade. She screamed, “The Pits of the Damned are too good a place for the likes of your kind! Shall I call out to all the beasts of Hell, would they be willing to gather your worthless carcasses to their feasts?!”
Legion frowned in a long, sad face, shouting above the uproar, cautioning, “This is a peaceful place of moot, an exchange for the ones we love. ‘War’ and ‘vengeance’ are words I hear. Has it come to this, that we must defend ourselves from uncalled-for violence? Do you wish to force our hand in defense of ourselves this day? This, I may add, being a righteous defense, for we have come only in peace to you to settle matters through conference and dialog.”
“Peaceful?!” Mihai shrieked, pointing to her dead companions. “How do you call that peaceful?!”
Shouting back, Legion demanded, “Silence your ruffians or there will be no more exchange!”
As Mihai attempted to quiet her people, Legion scanned the gathered crowd. Puzzled, he watched two men off to Mihai’s left. All this day they had not involved themselves with goings on. Even now they appeared to be distant concerning the things happening. More troubling still was that the gray-cloaked people scattered about the crowd remained stoic, watching events, the same as was the officer standing close to Mihai’s side. What was up with these people? Did they have no fellow feeling for their imprisoned comrades?
Truth be said, Paul and Jonathan were distraught over the things witnessed but for them it was the natural course of matters in the worlds from which they had come. Rulers routinely tortured, burnt, disfigured, imprisoned, raped, and… and practiced every other sort of sadistic abuse upon the victims of their choosing. Not only were the two men witness to such things, each had received a rich helping of that same abuse at various times in their lives. How was this any different? This was saddening and true, but not out of the ordinary, at least from their personal observations.
The gray-cloaked people? Well… feelings were not allowed this day. They were on a mission under the direction of the field marshal. Warning they had been provided by her concerning the possible state of affairs that might exist this day, and orders given to not fall prey to such deviltry no matter the depth or range of the depravity witnessed. Silently, each of Trisha’s salient warriors faithfully obeyed those orders, regardless the cost to heart or mind.
When things had settled down, Legion lifted his arms, shaking his hands as though in defense of earlier events. “My brothers! My brothers! We are all brothers here, once close companions one and all. The stress of the hour has also been difficult on my people as well as yours. The Outlanders were not kind to their prisoners, a few passing along despite our most diligent efforts. I do apologize for any possible inappropriate conduct on the part of a few of these simple soldiers, but under the circumstances it might well have been expected.”
Mihai’s hand suddenly flew to her head, a searing pain racing through her brain. A sinister voice from deep within the woman’s mind began a chiding rant. “Strike him down! Strike out in revenge for your loved ones! Strike him down! Strike him to death! Do it! Do it! Do it!”
Through a blinding headache, Mihai looked up to see Asotos staring at her, a rapidly vanishing smile indicating his involvement in this demon attack. Fighting the urge to obey the monster’s command, she forced her hand down to her side, shouting a defiant insult at her enemy. “Go fuck your girly-man, you whore lover!”
Asotos’ face went white with rage as he clenched his teeth to remain silent. If he said a word to Mihai, Legion would no longer be his spokesman. Silently he stood there, his glaring eyes casting hateful threats. At that instant, the musical tunes of dancing bells filled the man’s head to distraction. Cursing Lowenah did little good, she ignoring the man’s telepathic ranting. Asotos fought to quell the frustrating music, forgetting about Mihai.
Mihai’s verbal assault had come at great risk to the hostages, but at least her demon was back in hiding, and Asotos was no longer attacking her mind. As the pain quickly ebbed, Mihai regained some of her composure. She could now turn her attention back to Legion.
Leaning forward threateningly, she snarled, “Give our people up to us and be done with it!”
Legion cried out defensively, his hands flailing the air. “Be patient! Be patient! The exchanging hour is not yet come to its finish! Look and see… more there is to come.” He peered into a very troubled, curious, face, frowning. “Your count has not been good. There is still more to come.”
After pausing for effect, Legion pointed toward the third car behind the tractor. “Mind games! Yes, mind games the Stasis do play on hapless victims of weak constitution. Separate them we must from the others, lest such crazy madness might infect them all. So it is, we have had to deliver this wretched soul to you separate from the others.”
A loud, creaking noise fell upon Mihai’s ears as a door in the side of the third car struggled to open. Slowly and painfully, it fought against rusted rails, wailing out warning and trepidation into the late day sky. Everything became quiet, even the breeze dying into deathly stillness. What wretched evil awaited the people’s eyes? What tortured debauchery had Asotos fomented that resided in deep shadows?
Asotos grinned. Here, at last, was the final straw. Mihai’s breaking point was driven to its limit. All day, she had been pummeled by one ruthless assault after another. Combined with the extreme heat, her sickness and bad visions, the demon within, and now the new, upcoming revelations, the woman was sure to snap. Asotos’ people would be forced to defend themselves from the woman’s vicious attack. Yes, many of his servants would die, but what of it? He cared for few, trusted none, any one of them might slit his throat if given the opportunity. The reward of having that bitch-woman in his grasp, and forcing Erithia from her palace in an attempt to save her cherished child, was worth the risk, worth the cost.
Clank! The car door hit the end of its tracks. Silence... Other than for the parching little breeze that had tired of the wait, no sound could be heard coming from either camp. What secrets awaited those outside? Why the delay of this revelation? What was Asotos up to?
A smiling face suddenly appeared in the open doorway. It was a chubby face, its smile full of gleaming white teeth, eyes twinkling. It was a face more like that of a mischievous boy than one of Asotos’ chief commanders. A hand shot out of the darkness, waving, while the boyish-appearing face cheerily shouted out, “Hello!”
No one in Mihai’s camp smiled back. Indeed not! This was not the face of a mischievous boy, but that of the vilest of men, Godenn! Many were the children of Lowenah who had endured that smile while being brutally tortured in the prison holes. Those few who survived the ordeal were forever changed, often spending many long years rebuilding their minds and bodies in a sanatorium. No, there were no smiles, only a collective, audible groan that drifted skyward.
A distraught voice cried out, “The butcher of Memphis!” Others took up the cry until the entire camp was in riot.
Mihai was forced to turn to her people, with hands waving high, ordering them to be silent. Gradually the cries and shouts subsided. The woman then cast her gaze upon the man standing in the doorway, her heart growing with trepidation regarding what other secrets were to be revealed.
Godenn, a rather rotund, slovenly man, filled the doorway as he continued his grinning wave, scanning Mihai’s crowd. The man enjoyed watching fear and anger on people’s faces.
It made him feel powerful. No longer handsome, the ravages of dissolute living and loathsome disease having ruined his looks, Godenn now found his beauty in the power he wielded over others. Fear, dread and hatred were some of the tools he used to retain that power. What a pleasure to see that his tools were working so effectively...
Something caught Godenn’s eye that first made him curious and then concerned. Several of the people in Mihai’s crowd stood, silently staring over at him, their faces betraying no emotion or recollection of him at all. Strange, everyone in the empire knew Godenn or of him. He was an Ancient, born into a world when only a few hundreds of Erithia’s children existed. He was grand marshal at countless celebrations and festivals. His name, GeshurPhoster, meaning ‘father of illumination’, was later changed to Godenn – ‘the bright eye’. He was one of the foremost of Chrusion’s councilors from days of old, before what was called the ‘burning days’, which was the burning of Lagandow, on up through the Second Age and into the Banishment.
Yes, few did not fear Godenn, but none did not recognize him except… except some of those standing in Mihai’s camp. ‘Oh well...’ Godenn shrugged. He would pick out their curious eyes later, while giving them insight and knowledge into who he is. Now he best be about his business.
With a grunt, Godenn jumped down onto the burning sands. In his hand, he held some kind of a long cable or line, its other end vanishing into the darkness beyond the door. He looked around, grinning, holding the end of the cable high, waiting for the crowds to quiet. When satisfied, the man turned his attention to the open doorway and slowly began to back away from the car, pulling on the cable as he did. Eventually, like an apparition rising from the netherworld, a tiny creature manacled at the wrists and ankles emerged from the darkness.
Mihai carefully studied the bony skeleton standing in the doorway. What kind of an abomination was it, some new biologic creation designed by the enemy’s demented minds? No, no, this must be one of the Zephath’s crew, but who? So badly disfigured the person was, one could not tell whether it was a man or woman, the wounds on the body so severe it made gender identification impossible.
Godenn jerked on the cable, the person crying out in agony as the collar’s inner spikes tore into its neck. That cry... That cry... The voice was so familiar, so hauntingly familiar, and Mihai’s face clouded as understanding began to awake within her heart. She gasped at the possibility. Was this her ward, her child, her little one?
A wail rent the air when Mihai fully comprehended the identity of the person standing in the doorway. “Sirion! Sirion! My child!”
At that instant, Godenn pulled hard on the cable, yanking Sirion from the boxcar. The girl let out a howl that was quickly muffled as she hit, face first, into the burning sand. Godenn pulled hard again on the cable, but Sirion did not move.
This was the moment Asotos had been waiting for. He smiled. Now to make the woman snap... He looked at Mihai, laughing, “Worthless piece of shit, anyway! Better off dead!”
Screaming, Mihai started to lunge at Asotos, her hand grasping for the sword at her side. Then everything went crazy.
Mihai’s had taken less than a step, her hand barely gripping the hilt of her sword, when she was slammed hard from the side, followed quickly by a searing pain in her right hand as it was wrenched away from her weapon. Tendons snapped and bones cracked as Trisha grappled with Mihai, spinning her around and smashing them both into Anna, all three tumbling into a tangled pile.
Trisha crashed down on top of Mihai, staring into Mihai’s shocked face. “That is enough of you!” Trisha snarled. “Fool! If your sister lives, it is no thanks to you!”
There was a sudden report of a gun, quickly followed by several more, all in quick succession. Asotos, a silly grin fading from his face, watched dumbfounded as the head of one of his guards disappeared in a cloud of crimson vapor. Before he could blink, three more of his soldiers suffered the same fate as the first. The four men had been in too much of a hurry to carry out orders, their knives failing to reach the throats of intended victims.
Legion never got to signal his army of soldiers and storm-troopers as he had intended. Instead he found himself staring down the barrels of a shotgun pointed directly at his face. Wisdom dictated he stand down, the hooded soldier’s fingers squeezing the double triggers, her eyes begging him to move.
Godenn looked up when he heard the first sharp report, his thumb about to press the detonator. He found himself staring into the eyes of the gray-cloaked man off to his right, holding a double rifle, pointed directly at him. Godenn had long learned to live by instinct. No need to die this day. Quickly dropping the cabled detonator, Godenn jumped back, his hands reaching high, a worried smile on his face. The hooded man did not shoot, but he did not lower his weapon either.
In less than a heartbeat, Garlock had reloaded his double rifle and was pointing it directly at Godenn, the bloody results of his first two shots being a convincing argument for Asotos’ lieutenant to abandon his plans of killing Sirion. He, and another dozen of his gray-cloaked confederates, stood guard against any further mischief from Asotos’ company. Armed with double and automatic shooting weapons, Asotos’ assembly of bowmen would be no match for the gray-cloaked warriors.
(Author’s note: Double-barreled, rifled shotguns were most dangerous, being capable of firing a wide variety of cartridges. Designed off weapons used in the Lower Realms, they could be loaded with shrapnel, explosives, rifled rounds, or solid, round-ball shot. Used extensively during the King’s War by the Navy and Marines, they gained a reputation in legend far beyond their practical worth. Oh yes, at close range they were devastating, but in regular combat were consider inferior to standard long weapons.)
Planetee heard the grunt behind her just before being swept off her feet and crushed against Eutychus’ body. She had little more than reached out to assist Mihai when her world painfully turned upside down. As the explosive reports of the guns sounded in her ears, she felt the sickening crunch of cracking ribs. Through a dizzying blindness, the woman watched, helpless, as Trisha struggled Mihai to the ground. Then her world went black, she remembering little more of the following events.
Someone, watching from behind a sand dune as the chaotic scene unfolded, cursed the person knocking Mihai to the ground. “Why can it not be seen for what it is? Evil...evil, I say. The fight was upon us for saving the day. The traitor has stolen it from us.” Seeing there was nothing that could be done for the moment, the frustrated warrior slid her sword back into its scabbard and hurried away, promising to remove the trouble-maker at a more convenient time.
Lowenah lifted her head as if smelling the breeze. In her mind, she watched the warrior depart. She frowned, shaking her head. “There is trouble afoot if something is not done soon. I must see to fixing it when we return home.”
Her face in Mihai’s, Trisha growled contemptuously, “Do you think my words were that of a fool when I told you to remain silent and your sister might live? Hell hunts our very souls as I speak! Now shut your mouth and do as you’re told, and some of us might survive the day.”
Mihai blinked in confusion and surprise. What was going on? Who was this creature whose crushing weight was stealing away her breath, this she-woman with the strength of ten men, breaking her wrist with bare fingers? Groggily aware that something far beyond her understanding was going on, she dumbly nodded to do as Trisha ordered.
At that instant, Trisha felt a disruption in the harmonics. Someone was signaling the distant ships, undoubtedly calling for support to renew the battle. Looking up at Eutychus, she shouted, “War is upon us!”
Dropping Planetee unceremoniously into the sand, Eutychus turned and roared, “Hestemi agon! Hestemi agon!” translated, ‘Stand to fight! Stand to fight!’
Shouts of “Strateuo! Strateuo!” (To war! To war!) filled the air as hatches opened in the two lead wagons, disgorging dozens of Marines, brandishing the s
ame kind of weapons carried by the gray-cloaked soldiers.
At that same instant, Trisha clutched her throat, shouting. “Kapnos Apoluo Oros! Kapnos Apoluo Oros!” (Let the Mountain Smoke! Let the Mountain Smoke!) Getting Eutychus’ attention, she pointed toward the wagons. “Deliver Hell to Heaven!”
Eutychus nodded then turned to the teamsters, bellowing, “Anistemi Neossos Anaireo!” (Rise up to bring death, oh birds of prey!)
The teamsters dove for the horses, pulling pole pins while cutting traces. In seconds, they were driving hard the teams, shouting out warnings to clear the way as they raced for the rear of the lines.
No sooner were the horses clear than the distinctive wail of turbines added their contribution to the tumultuous din. Servos whined as wagon sides fell away to reveal armored, gravity gun-trucks mounted with rapid-fire machine guns and solid projectile, automatic cannons from navy fighters.
Eutychus hurried forward to assist Trisha onto her feet. He pointed toward the enemy ships. “They come like ants to war.”
Trisha looked over her shoulder, smiling. “They come too late. Look!” Eutychus turned just in time to see three ships of war skimming in low over the horizon.
Trisha then turned to a very confused and distraught Legion, shouting above the noise. “Call off your host or we all die here this day!” Without waiting for his reply, she turned, bending low to assist Mihai.
Garlock let out a howl as he stumbled backward, spinning around and crashing to the ground. A crescendo of shots rang out. Two of Legion’s archers fell, meeting the same fates as their former comrades.
Trisha bolted upright, shouting at the crews of the gun-trucks. “Take ‘em out!”
Legion screamed, his hands flailing, “No! No! I’ll stand them down! I’ll stand them down!”
Fingers on triggers, the gunners waited on further orders from their commander. She told them to keep their weapons charged, adding, as she pointed toward Legion, “If there’s mischief, he goes first!”
Hands high, Legion backed away, sidling up to Asotos, who stood there in a daze of confusion and frustration. Only now was he even beginning to grasp what was happening, while at the same time, with the horses gone, he could see clearly the source of the haunting music, the woman being the mesmerizing beauty he remembered. His mind torn between the turbulent mayhem on his right and the ghost of visions past to his left, the man was temporarily thrown into a state of perplexity, unable to react to either situation.
Trisha motioned Jonathan to tend to Jebbson and then turned to the marine captain, pointing toward the hostages. “Go bring them. Shoot anyone who stands in your way.”
A dozen Marines, accompanied by six or so gray-cloaked soldiers, guns held high, rushed over to the hostages. No one stood in their way, having already observed that these people played for keeps.
Trisha then nodded to Eutychus, who stormed off to retrieve Sirion. Pushing his way past stunned guards, the giant made his way straight for the girl, angrily shouting at Godenn as he approached on a run, “Get out the way, pimple, or I’ll smash ya!”
Stunned by Eutychus’ open threat, and seeing the fires burning in the madman’s eyes, Godenn jumped out of the way just before being bowled over. He was baffled as to the boldness of this man. Godenn could barely remember a time when he had been shown such callous disregard to the point of feeling his life in danger - a long, long, time.
Eutychus bent low over Sirion, softly calling out her name. He reached down with bare hands and ripped the collar off from around Sirion’s neck, tossing it at Godenn’s feet. Glaring at Godenn, Eutychus snarled, “Git, you, or I’ll put that thing around your fat neck and push the trigger, too! Now git!”
Godenn did not need to be warned twice. He turned and, at a waddling run, made his way for the safety of Asotos’ side.
Turning his attention to Sirion, Eutychus gently rolled the woman over and carefully brushed the sand from her face and mouth. He feared her already dead, but chose not to believe it. Cradling her head in his arms, he began to sing a sweet little lullaby she had once sung to him.
Jebbson rolled over with a groan and slowly sat up. He pulled pieces of the shattered jillson bolt from a torn hole in his flannel shirt. Holding the broken arrow point in his hand, he mused, “Didn’t work as good as expected, but still worked.”
Jonathan saw through the ruptured shirt another quilted garment of some sort that appeared undamaged. Before he could cuss the man out for scaring them all, Jebbson requested to be assisted up. Standing straight, Garlock smiled, looking over at Trisha, calling out, “Good to go, Captain. Good to go.”
Trisha replied with a satisfied smile and then turned her attention back to Mihai.
All these momentous events had occurred in little more than a minute. Asotos was only beginning to come to his senses concerning what had happened, the man not yet comprehending the depth to which his carefully planned mission had now failed.
As he dumbly stared out at the ruination of his glorious plans to capture Mihai and retake the Palace, a ghostly voice, echoing derisive laughter, filled his head. “Do you see them now - my little darlings - do you see them now? Yes...yes... They have come to you from beyond their graves, beyond your reach, your seedlings, little shoots of their father, your wretched offspring, your Children of Damnation. Raised up from the depths below they have been, still befouled with that world’s stink they are, to bring a ruin to your world here. Full of hatred and vengeful desire they are. Do you believe now that my little darlings live? They live...”
Asotos cursed the voice in his head, telling it to depart and stay out of his business. Laughing again, the voice replied merrily, “As you have commanded...” it quickly fading in his mind.
Forcing his attention away from the mesmerizing beauty that was making such hypnotic music, Asotos turned to view conditions on his right. Gone were his hostages except for Sirion, who was still being tended to. Dead were several of his soldiers. Legion was standing back with his hands held high in surrender, and…and…and everything was just in a shambles. Less than a kilometer away, three ships of war floated low in the sky while two gravity gunships hovered above the sands just behind the enemy’s line. Soldiers, ships, war? This was not supposed to be! Just a lone woman charging his line, and then his people charging to the slaughter of the Erithia’s children - that was the way it was supposed to be.
Trisha was down on a knee, assisting Mihai, while some members of the king’s diplomatic council were helping Planetee. Barely conscious because of the blinding pain from her injuries given her by Eutychus when he restrained her, attendants needed to place Planetee on a litter in order to remove her from the field. The poor fellow had no intention of hurting Planetee at all but, in the excitement of the moment, gave his dear friend such a crushing blow that he dislocated her shoulder and cracked some ribs. It would be several days before Mihai’s trusted councilor would be healed enough to return to her duties.
Although he would deeply regret having hurt Planetee so when report was later delivered to him, for the moment, Eutychus was giving no never-mind to anyone but Sirion. He could feel no pulse nor see any fog on his pocket mirror when checking for a breath. Still refusing to give up hope, he continued to gently rock Sirion in his arms while singing cheerful little songs in her ears.
Gently rubbing Mihai’s swollen hand, Trisha apologized, sadly bemoaning the damage she had done. “My lord and king, I am so sorry, but did what I had to do. Please forgive your servant girl for committing this travesty against you. Dastardly yet are the deeds that must be done this day, and I beg you can forgive them also. But if that is the case or not, by my hand must they still be done. I beg your understanding regarding these matters.”
Asotos was incensed, glaring into Mihai’s camp at the people sprawled upon the ground. As he contemplated the current disaster, he stared at the vile thing that had failed to carry out a very simple mission, cursing it in
his mind, ‘I will not forget you, evil treacherous thing. Today you live…tomorrow you will wish you had not. Betrayed my trust once too often, you have. There is no absolution for the agony you have fetched me this day! Ruined it all you have! Ruined it all!’
As the realization of the extent of desolation wrought on his wonderful schemes continued to grow, Asotos became enraged. Stepping forward, he broke into a frothing tirade against the miserable creature responsible for destroying his grand plan. He screamed one abuse after another at her, the woman paying no attention to him as she assisted Mihai.
With Anna’s aid, Trisha managed to get Mihai to her feet. She was still in a bit of a daze, needing both women to hold her to keep from collapsing. While Asotos continued with his tempestuous verbal assault, Trisha directed the securing of the camp as well as getting additional aid for Mihai. Before leaving with their charge, Trisha bowed low to Mihai, calling out loudly to her, “My king. My lord... Your servant… May the spirit of the Cherubs go with you...”
Asotos was flabbergasted at seeing this last antic. Placing his fists on his hips and rocking back on his heels, he shouted out to Trisha in derision, “Has the court gone mad?! Does the jester rule the day as high commander of a fool’s army?”
Trisha slowly turned about, looking Asotos directly in the eyes, asking, “Are you speaking to me?”
Asotos laughed sardonically. “Who else but a twitter-brained joker would not understand? Of course I’m speaking to you!”
Trisha smiled innocently. “Then it is… I will accept your offer to conclude this moot with you.”