Asotos was furious! Everyone stared at him, waiting to hear his reply to a most innocent statement. He had been tricked into doing this. No, it was Erithia’s witchery at work! He would never have fallen prey to such a simple creature, a fool of a woman, no less. Trick or not, Asotos knew he was trapped...trapped into either accepting to finish the moot with this, this thing, or to leave in defeat with nothing to show for all his efforts except a few of his own dead.
Wait! There was still an opportunity here. This lowly creature opposing him was incapable of winning this day if not for the help of the evil witch. He would call Erithia’s hand publicly, thus forcing her to stay out of the remaining proceedings. This might work out better than expected after all. Now he, the Great Potentate, would take the reins. What creature could outwit him, even if it had come from the netherworld? He laughed at the thought.
While the action was focused on Asotos and Trisha and their current standoff, the real drama was playing out in the sands behind Asotos and his lieutenants. Eutychus had used his army knife to work open the restraining locks, freeing Sirion’s manacled wrists. Thinking her dead, the man was sitting there, gently rocking the woman’s upper body in cradled arms, singing out a sweet lament. He was beginning the second verse when a convulsive shudder raced through the woman.
Peering close into Sirion’s face, Eutychus excitedly watched to see if any hope remained for his dear friend. Suddenly he lifted his head looking over at Trisha, and paying no heed to protocol, joyously shouted, “She lives! Our sister is alive!”
Sirion’s body shook again, she coughing up bloody spittle. Eutychus busied himself at doing whatever possible to assist the woman, calling for others to help him. In seconds, two armed, gray-cloaked troopers had kneeled down beside him, providing whatever aid they could. His heart racing with excitement, the man began another song, this one passionate, filled with hope and promise.
Asotos started to make complaint about this rude intrusion, sighting protocol violations.
Trisha extended her arm, palm out. “Hold! This travesty is of your making! My gunners will not be pacified by cheap rhetoric and empty speech. I will start my business with you when we have finished it with them.” She swept her hand in the direction of some of the prisoners being tended to. “No man… or woman will be chattel in these negotiations. Shall I tell my people to open fire, or do we have an agreement?”
Asotos was stunned silent. How was this happening? This beast-woman was crazy! She was willing to go to war this very moment, caring not for soul or life. Only Gabrielle had ever dared stand defiant before. Who was this person to act with such boldness? Did she not understand who he was, his powers and majesty, his glory? All that mattered little for the moment. Now was the time to salvage whatever he could.
Standing straight and frowning, he lifted his voice in declaration. “We have come in peace. To do the work of ambassadors has been our only desire. You and your people are out of line, making these proceedings a giant travesty.”
Trisha leaned back and began to turn her head to issue commands to her gun crews.
Asotos screamed for her to stop, crying out, “We shall do as you wish! As you wish...!”
Trisha slowly turned back, lowering her hand. “Then we shall wait until our people are secured.”
Asotos nodded, motioning with his hands. “Yes. Yes. We shall wait.” Then he balked, “What of our people? Where is their release?”
There was a stir among some of the gray-cloaked troopers, some calling for the heads of Salak and others.
Asotos called out disapprovingly, “Is there no discipline among your soldiers?”
Trisha smiled, waiting until her people quieted. “My soldiers? Oh, no, these are the Children of Anteria, survivors of the horror heaped upon that city after Legion’s devastation of Memphis. No armistice have they ever signed with your kind. War against the League of Brothers ever rules their worlds. The ‘Witches of KordianHasur’, your people call them, mad rabble seeking revenge for lost kindred. Do not raise their ire, for I fear I will not be able to control what they might do.”
“You are out of line, bringing these rebels to a diplomatic conference!” Asotos yelled. “You…”
Trisha snarled, “You are out of line for being alive. Should all my soldiers be as this kind is, we would not have to be here quibbling over formalities this day.”
Asotos was flabbergasted. The insolence of this creature was unbelievable! Erithia must be up to her witching tricks. Pointing at Lowenah, he accused, “All this day you have used your stolen witchery to cajole my ambassadors, through threat and intimidation, into surrendering up what was offered freely. I have tolerated these outlandish actions of yours up until this moment, but will not abide them any longer.”
He shook his finger, demanding, “Leave us be by swearing an oath to everyone present that you will desist and abstain from any further of your interference, in any form or I shall call these proceedings illegal and void.”
Lowenah remained expressionless as she shrugged, “As you wish, but I doubt you understand what you’re asking for.”
Smiling innocently sinister, Asotos turned his attention back to that defiling creature. “We shall wait until you are ready to continue.”
Trisha nodded coldly and returned to the task at hand. The small bilander, Duckling - Captain VazalGurnig commanding - was settled down in the sand a short distance away. While the three warships hovered in the sky above, Mihai and her diplomatic team were escorted toward the Duckling to be delivered back to base camp. Accompanying them were Tabitha Copeland and General HoiOnarasis, with orders to ready the Doggie for quick departure. Trisha quietly watched until everyone boarded the transport and disappeared inside.
Asotos also stood quietly, studying, not the Duckling, but this new specimen that needed thorough dissecting, first in mind and spirit and second in body… what a tantalizing idea! He now focused his entire attention upon the creature confronting him, watching, listening, and feeling for any and every subtle inflection in the harmonics that might reveal some secret or weakness concerning it. Raising an eyebrow, surprised, he discovered a great deal more about this creature than it was knowingly revealing.
He smiled, intrigued. Without Erithia’s cloak of protection surrounding this thing, it was spewing out all sorts of emotional secrets. He cocked his head ever so slightly, listening to its troubling music that wafted upon the breeze. Even without its physical genetic blueprint, Asotos was able to determine so many things concerning its makeup. Most noteworthy was the creature’s not so secret scorn, nearing that of contempt, for many of Michael’s ambassadorial entourage. Indeed, this creature revealed such deep-seated anger and frustration as to indicate its resentment for even being in this world.
Disquiet, discontent, sadness, rejection - these and other feelings were shouted out to Asotos’ senses. He saw no happiness residing within it. Just how troubled it must be! What tortures and tribulation of mind and heart must this abomination of living things have suffered at the hands of Erithia’s loyal children to turn one of her personal creations into such a malevolent being? A trade off, he supposed, so that the creature might have the power to face this greatest of adversaries. This thing was no coward. That was for sure. Now, with Erithia’s stolen magic removed, it should be an easy matter to exploit the creature’s weaknesses for his benefit, he having discovered many chinks in its armor.
Trisha turned her attention back to Asotos. “Stand your soldiers down, and have them leave their weapons on the ground before backing away from the line.”
Asotos put up a halfhearted protest, more for show and bravado than out of concern. He knew the gig was up, but felt at little risk… at least for the moment. If this creature intended a coup against them, it would have been a long-done deal, this thing having the upper hand already. Besides, there were many ways to win a struggle, mortal combat being just one.
Already Asotos mind
was percolating with an idea that might well afford him a greater prize than even Michael. After all, the capture of that woman would have satisfied little more than his vengeful spirit. Erithia’s surrender of the Palace over the loss of her favorite child was not a certainty. But here stood a new creation of the evil Witch. What could his scientists discover by careful dissection of its mind and body? What abilities had she built into this new machine that he might be able to use to his advantage? Technology was technology, whether mechanical or biological, and that was what this creation must be, a new technological invention, a potential super warrior possibly. He smiled in thoughtful anticipation.
Sirion began to stir, struggling to sit. Despite Eutychus’ adamant requests of offered assistance, she refused. From a broken mouth and through bleeding lips, she demanded to be left alone. Surrendering the moment, he and the others stepped back to give the girl room, all the while remaining close enough to help if need be.
Slowly and painfully, Sirion rolled over. With outcries of agony, she exerted herself, and with all her strength pushed herself up and onto her knees. After several failed attempts at standing, she surrendered to Eutychus’ offer and took his hand, releasing it as soon as she was on her feet. Standing there proud and defiant, the girl took first one tenuous step forward, slowly followed by another.
The people opposing Asotos’ camp went wild with jubilation, shouting and waving hands high in the air. Although not yet understanding the real emotion behind it, what they were witnessing was the spirit of defiance rising up in the hearts of the children of the New Age, Sirion a current example. The message, not yet fully comprehended by the many, was that the old ways were finished and that a new and savage leadership was ascending the throne.
Every step Sirion took toward her approaching destiny was a declaration that her kind no longer carried the banners of protocol and diplomacy, would not. Her feet were trampling them into the dust of forgotten dreams and false hope. Blood, fire, and slaughter were the new colors for the coming commanders of this universe.
The future would witness death and destruction on a scale unimagined even by the hardened veterans watching the girl haltingly make her way toward them. Entire armies would wither away like spring grass under the scorching heat of a torturous sun, star systems would long echo empty the sound of mankind, and cities would become forever charred and ruined, yet the voice of the chandler calling all peoples to a violent end was not to be silenced. ‘Buy my goods with your lives, your souls, your very breath. Death! Death I promise you, and for a good price too. A fair trade, I assure you.’
(Author’s note: Long years later, that same woman coldly replied when responding to an armchair critic regarding the ‘wanton violence’ her kind ushered in upon the world, ‘In that hour, a blood moon rose above the universe. To this day, its crimson pall remains, covering my world. We, the children of that age have not forgotten, nor shall we. Our swords are ever at the ready to destroy evil before it comes to power. We - my kind - still practice the arts of war so that your kind may never have to learn it, endure it. We live with the memory of what we have done, asking no absolution, so that our nightmares do not become yours.’)
Sirion slowly, painfully, shuffled toward her eagerly awaiting companions, each step a concentrated struggle of a determined mind fighting the frailty of a tortured body. Without warning, she came to a sudden halt, rocking back and forth on wobbly legs. Before Eutychus could reach out to offer a steady hand, a violent shudder ran down the woman, shaking her from head to foot. Grasping her head, she let out a cry and bent low.
Eutychus grabbed Sirion’s arm in hopes of preventing a fall. To his surprise, she shook free of his grasp and turned toward Legion, fists clenched. Filled with renewed energy, this bony, brutalized little creature marched up to him and, catching him unawares, clutched hold the talisman bag secured over his shoulder.
Yanking hard Sirion screamed, “Give ‘em back! Give ‘em back! They’re mine! They’re mine!”
Legion began to resist, telling Sirion to leave him be. He would undoubtedly have become violent had he not been staring down the barrels of the gunners’ heavy caliber projectile weapons. “Leave me be! Go away! Go away! You’re free to go! Now go away!”
Eutychus observed, perplexed, at the desperate struggle Sirion was putting up to get that shoulder bag. As he watched the two fighting for possession, his attention was drawn to the bag itself. When the realization hit him that the bag was the product of the girl’s very flesh, he howled in rage, lunging forward while drawing his fighting knife.
“Give it up, you bastard, or I take it off you!” He roared, raising his blade.
Few men dared face Legion, let alone threaten or confront him. Now an angry giant of a beast, nearly the size of one of his own creation, a feller, was intent on his destruction should he not surrender what was rightfully his to possess. The bag and contents within were his trophies of war, his badges of courage. The mummified fingers, toes, ears, noses, and other body parts were his talismans, proof of contests won, his heroism proved in the face of his enemies. They were part of him, his very soul.
The blade was only inches from Legion’s face when he cast off the purse and jumped away from certain death. This was madness! Now it was his turn to howl, but in dismay and defeat. Asotos was in no position, or in any mood to defend his loyal lieutenant. No need risking them both... After all, if Legion met his demise, someone should be there to sing a pining eulogy. Besides, Asotos was developing other plans, and his intervening in this affair might upset them. And… it was partly Legion’s fault for earlier failures. If the fellow was kilt, it would be a personal loss, but not an unjust reward for his ineptness.
Sirion did not leave. She held the bag close to her chest, a garish grin growing on her face. Legion was so perplexed at what he was seeing that he stopped his ranting and began to stare into this woman’s horribly disfigured face. There was something very disconcerting about her looks, uncanny, even for his world. Then he saw it, another being staring out from behind the girl’s undamaged eye.
Through Sirion’s broken mouth, a voice from inside the woman spoke out in cackling contempt. “It has waked... It has waked... ‘Oh, give me mercy! Give me mercy!’ It cries, though nothing but the butcher’s dogs does it receive. Oh, but now it smells the blood of the one murdering it, it does! It does! Daughter of the Gorgons, it is. It takes what it wills and when it wants. Numbered are the days of the walking dead.”
She broke out in hideous laughter, finally cooing, “Pleasant dreams, my brother.”
Sirion turned and hobbled away to be gathered up in waiting arms. Eutychus threateningly stared down Legion as he backed up a safe distance, and then quickly departed. Legion could only stand there, attempting to salvage what little dignity he had remaining, all the while silently puzzling over Sirion’s disquieting riddle. Asotos did nothing, his attention again focused upon the creature opposing him, pondering curiously. While the others celebrated with outcries and tears, this strange creature showed no emotion, only watching quietly as the others jubilantly rejoiced at the return of their sister.
Pointing toward the Duckling, Trisha quietly gave orders to two of her gray-cloaked lieutenants. “Get Sirion and the others aboard, and then re-deploy your line. Finish this up quickly, for I’ve other business to tend to.”
Her lieutenants acknowledged the orders and hurried away to execute them. Turning her back on Asotos, with hands clasped behind her, she silently watched as her commands were carried out.
Asotos was completely intrigued at what he was witnessing. Did this creature have a soul, or was it little more than an intelligent machine? No...it had feelings, very bitter feelings, hurt and anger. This was knowledge he could use to his advantage.
The gun trucks’ turbines suddenly cut out, the machines settling down upon the sand as the whine of the engines slowly fell silent. When all was quieted, the truc
ks’ crews stood down, quickly exiting the machines and taking up their stations beside them.
Trisha’s stoic deportment was so outlandish to Asotos that he failed to contemplate the scene unfolding about him - a serious mistake. Had he been paying close attention, he would have become aware that everything taking place had been anticipated, carefully orchestrated, and precisely executed. Arrogance and self-aggrandizement can paint dark shadows over the keen perception of the greatest intellect, especially in people like Asotos, who never saw those traits in himself.
As the gun crews stepped out into the fading late afternoon sun, the Duckling gently lifted up and drifted off to the west, the three gunships following closely. What a fool! One moment this creature had the upper hand, controlling the very life and breath of the entire assembly, and now, except for a few marines and a handful of those gray-cloaked privateers, she and her people were at the mercy of a still very functional military force. Still… Asotos pondered matters… it would be wiser to carry out his plan and spring the trap before setting his army loose. He glanced over to his right at the strange fellow with the threatening smile. Yes, it would be wiser to carry out his plan and spring his trap first.
Trisha slowly turned around, hands dropping to her sides as she stared into Asotos’ face. She directed her attention toward him, ever so calmly speaking. “The sun waits upon none, be he wise or a fool. Shall we conclude our business this day, and then be done with it?”
Now was the time to request the return of his fellows, but Asotos was not concerned about them at the moment. No - not after having chanced the creature’s countenance, seeing the drawn face and sadness in its eyes. This fleeting opportunity could not be wasted. Asotos had seen this same resigned and troubled look many times before. Although having won the moment, the creature was tired and distraught - tired over having to deal with the foolery of the day, and distraught because of the way the leadership viewed its very presence. The time was now – now, at this creature’s peek of emotional weakness. He knew what to do and how to do it.
Asotos replied with winsome, soothing words. “Doth the sun set only upon an empty land and not a desolate heart? A world filled with distress and sadness so distressed that my own heart burns with a pity long it has not felt. Look about and see another friend or companion who loves an ailing heart for the sake of love any greater than I, brother to all these people.”
Trisha looked into Asotos’ eyes, confused. “Tell me, please, what foolishness does the breeze carry upon it? We are here to moot, not to draw up troublesome waters that are too bitter to drink. Let us be on about our business.”
Asotos countered, waving apologetic. “Oh, but I am about our business. I am responsible to all the people in this universe. Ever is my tent open to listen to a troubled heart. Lo, the women in this land have all known my love and tender ways. You - you are a warrior - that I can tell - great and mighty, no doubt. But I see behind the plates of steel and helm of gold the fair face and shapely figure of a woman creature. Yet I see in your eyes a storied tale of rejection and pain, scorn from the very ones you wish to love.”
Trisha took a small step forward, lifting her hands, palms up. “What is pain that burns a forest when it is the river that must be crossed? We have a moot to finish, then this day can pass into forgotten shadow and the peace of dreamless sleep will come.”
Smiling with compassion, Asotos also took a small step while extending a hand. “Shadows and dreams? Look about. We - you and I - control the hour and the day. A moot is of such little importance when I see someone struggling so from the suffering within. Please, I do not know you, yet all the women of this world I do know. Who are you, and why do you suffer the indifference of this rabble so?”
Sighing as she cast her eyes toward the sand, Trisha answered, “I am the child of a lost world long buried under the drifting sands. ‘Trisha’ is the name given me by the lords of this world meaning, ‘the lowly one who rises from the dust’. My birth name that no one here has cared to learn, a very beautiful name, is ‘ElaiaKallos’…”
“The beautiful olive tree!” Asotos exclaimed. “It is such a wonderful name, so… so… earthy.” His face filled with curiosity. “So earthy... It’s in the tongue…”
“The tongue of the powers of my day. My peoples’ speech was a mix of that and the eastern desert trader, from which I’m descended. That man...” Trisha pointed at Paul, who had remained behind at her request, “that man traveled through my region, coming within three days’ long walk from my little village. I remember him, but even he does not recall me. He spoke about obeying the great Caesar of my day, though only have I read about the man after my arrival here. My home is lost to me, its location buried under the shifting sands of the eastern desert.”
She sadly shook her head. “My world was very small. It was hot and dry, except when the winter rains set it afire in all its beauty. It was all I knew. Up to this day, its location has not been of enough concern for these people to bother searching it out for me. So I cannot tell you where I am from, other than to say its name was ‘QaShaibJal’.”
Quickly recovering from being taken aback over the inconceivable notion that Erithia had really managed, somehow, to deliver earthy life into this world, let alone life that had long since passed into death, Asotos smiled compassionately, tapping his cheek with a finger. “QaShaibJal? QaShaibJal? Now I have heard that name before.” He lied. “Somewhere to the east of the land of the Greeks as I recall...” He guessed.
Trisha nodded hopefully, her eyes betraying an aching desire to rediscover the home of her birth. “Yes, yes, it was off to the east, far off, or so I was told by my mother long ago.”
Silently studying this Trisha closely, Asotos became intrigued, his heart filling with trepidation and curiosity. Why, if this creature were a new invention of Erithia’s, would she have been implanted with a memory of preexistence, especially one in the Realms Below? Should she not be designed to believe herself of a greater, more superior race, possibly greater than even he? The latter made sense, but not the former, unless… unless it was to trick him into thinking Erithia truly had the power to raise up the long dead, which he did not believe.
But then there were the strangers accompanying this woman creature. They were disconcerting to say the least, their very demeanor indicating little or no real knowledge of him, like that big oaf and the man off to his right who showed such disregard - or even possible contempt for him. Something was up, the trickery of that witch at work here, and it could not be ignored.
Taking a chance on breaking the spell he was weaving over this woman creature, he turned to the man she had earlier pointed to. His face filled with helpful desire, Asotos asked, concerned, “This woman says your journeys took you near her home city. Do you recall where that possibly might have been?”
Surprised that Asotos was speaking to him, Paul hesitated. Trisha looked approvingly at him, giving Paul the slightest of nods. He answered, “Many were the missionary tours I took in those latter days before my arrest and imprisonment in Rome. One journey to that area I do recall was when I departed a ship at Ephesus, spending several weeks with my friend Symeon, and then traveled east as far as… as, what is today called the ‘Daganhisar Tuzlukcu’ territories. I made many stops on that missionary tour, and met countless people, instructing fellow believers as well as making converts. I do not recall the field marshal here at all.” He looked at Trisha, frowning. “Sorry...”
Asotos was clearly distressed, and could not help asking. “So you are…?”
The man replied, nodding politely as he had done many times before when addressing Roman magistrates. “I am, was, Saul, Saul of Tarsus, later become known as ‘Paul’, ‘PaulNomikos’ as I am known today.”
Asotos was stunned. Could this really be the man he had long ago attempted to destroy, and finally succeeded at, only to have his troublesome presence delivered here, into his world?
Wheels of uncertainty were beginning to whirl about in Asotos’ head. If these truly were creatures from the Realms Below, returned from ages past, then Erithia’s twisted magic was very powerful and dangerous! An army of such monkey children could turn the battle, the war, even if they were only used as cannon fodder.
Little could he chance allowing any more of these miscreants being delivered here. Something must be done to stop it, today, but later. First, he must finish this most important business. Asotos smiled ever so slightly. If he was successful, he might need not worry about the other pressing issue.
He eyed Trisha. Field marshal? Troubling… but he mustn’t become distracted and lose game. “Well, ElaiaKallos,” Asotos smiled sadly, “I am so sorry that your arrival here has not been celebrated with greater enthusiasm. I assure you that had I known of your presence and needs, I and my people would have scoured the planet until we could have found your lost home. It is such a pity this little thing was not already done for you.” He glared disapprovingly at Lowenah and the diplomatic troop surrounding her.
Trisha took another step forward, her hands gesturing in concert with her mournful expressions. “But you are said to be such an evil dark lord, the Great Satan, usurper and reviler of all good things. How can I trust to the words you speak?”
Tears grew in Asotos’ eyes, running down his face. “As with you, this world has been cruel and deceitful regarding me, my reputation tarnished by lies, my home stolen from me, and the very children I so dearly love driven from my company.”
He stepped forward, hands out, voice pleading. “As with you, I am so lonely, seeking to have the injustice served against me revealed, and those responsible for it properly disciplined.”
The man wiped a tear from his cheek, shaking his head. “But I care little of that, seeing this dear child from other worlds being so distraught over the malfeasance committed against her. Oh, how the villainy and dastardliness of this lot distresses me! What can a humble man as I am do to provide succor for my cherished sister?”
Tears now filled Trisha’s eyes. She was caught up speechless, searching for words to make reply.
This was easier than Asotos had calculated. Just how stupid was Erithia anyway? Surely no common sense at all... Here she delivers the dullards, the misfits of lost worlds, to pollute these glorious realms, thinking that somehow they will succeed where her own children have miserably failed, and she never bothers to contemplate the consequences. Oh, what folly!
A sigh carried upon the breath of despair flowed from Asotos’ lips. Spreading his arms, he beckoned Trisha, “Oh, my darling little sister, come and weep with me, and we shall find the answers we both seek.”
Trisha hesitated, contemplating.
Ardon looked up at Lowenah, consternation growing on his face. She chanced him a stern glance that told him to stay out of matters. This was Trisha’s moment. The woman must choose for herself what was good or bad. Her choice might well decide the future fates of this universe, but it was hers to make. Lowenah had purposed it to be that way.
Trisha, too, reached out, slowly advancing, tears streaming down her face. “May it be so...” She sobbed.
Asotos grinned. In only seconds, the woman would be close enough for him to inject her with the venom hidden in his ring. In moments, she would be his prisoner to have and to keep. What a treasure! What a priceless treasure! He spread his arms wide to receive her embrace.
Trisha carefully listened to the harmonics as she approached Asotos. Long had she studied the brain patterns and signals of thought process, and how they disturbed the harmonics. Every physical action must first be preceded by action in the brain, the energy released causing a fluctuation in the surrounding harmonic field. Trisha was birthed into this world with the uncanny ability to feel the slightest of these disturbances, and her studies helped her with their interpretations.
Trisha stepped in under Asotos’ outstretched arms, staring into his eyes, which were only inches away. She waited, breathless, peering deeply into his ocean-blue orbs. Then she felt it, the signals being sent from Asotos’ brain to his nervous system, commanding it to close his arms about her.
Still staring, she cooed sinister, “It is time...”
In an instant, Asotos went from contemplating the total naivety of this creature to puzzling about her to abject confusion. The gaze of a child forlorn was now disappeared, replaced with the savage glare of a maddened beast filled with vengeful rage. Simultaneously he felt a hand grasp his belt, yanking him forward, while an explosive pain tore through his groin.
“Keep ‘em up!” The woman snarled, her face only inches from Asotos’. “Keep your arms high or I’ll slit you clear to your chin and let the dogs eat your guts for dinner!”
What?! What was this?! Asotos hands shot high, his mind attempting to grasp what was happening. This, this creature had a weapon hidden, maybe up her sleeve, a derker blade possibly. Whatever it was, his armor had been no match for its power. Gone was the woman’s lonely remorse and forlorn demeanor, now replaced with bitter hatred. How was it possible? Her rejected sadness had been real, he knew for a fact that was so. How had she tricked him into not seeing what else lay deep in her heart?
As the stark reality became clear to Asotos, he realized that he had been set up. This creature was cold and calculating, her simmering hatred for him openly revealed. She wanted him to know that he was the one who had been played. Everything the woman had done was for a purpose - a cold, calculated purpose. But what purpose?
A wicked smile grew across Trisha’s lips, her hand shuddering ever so slightly. Asotos felt the blade’s point painfully jabbing deeper into his flesh. Long had it been since fearful uncertainty grew in the man’s heart. This could not be happening! He cried out in disbelief, “How dare you treat the king of this…”
Trisha shoved the blade deeper as she hissed, “Give me a reason, and you won’t be going home this day... Give me a reason...”
This was impossible! It couldn’t be! “The very Law of Lowenah has forbid any harm be delivered against me!”
Trisha snarled. “I’ll feel guilty in the morning! Since when have you cared for anything my God has spoken? I am not come across Death and Time to worry about the consequences over removing a piece of worthless slime from this world the likes of you. I’ve already been delivered here to Hell! What penalty might I face? Death? Oh, what a blessing...”
“What do you want?!” Asotos wailed, “I’ve given you back your people. What do you want?!”
Pulling Asotos so close to her face that he could feel the woman’s hot breath and wet spittle, she answered, “I want a bull’s purse, you worthless worm! I want to make a woman of you...”
Desperate, Asotos shouted, “Does the mother of all living things not see the travesty being committed?!”
Shocked silence! No one could believe what Asotos had just uttered. The King of the Rebellion calling out to the Maker of Worlds for help?
Trisha laughed. “Do you think begging will save you now? You have cast your savior away by forcing an oath. Now you suffer the will of my heart, for the souls of my kind you have murdered.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Asotos boldly spouted, though his countenance was faltering. “You wouldn’t dare...”
“I’ve nothing to lose, fool. Death is not so bad. If that is my reward for taking your life, then the better for it.” Trisha laughed, shouting, “Beg for your life, slime weed! Beg or die!”
“How does the Maker of Worlds permit this Travesty?! Where is the Purveyor of Justice when law is being thrown into the dust?!” Asotos’ voice carried far on the still, late-day air.
Nothing...
Trisha laughed. “Call out to the true God. Maybe you will receive a hearing ear.” She jabbed him again.
Asotos’ face reddened in anger, but the dread of this monster’s intent forced him to do the unthinkable. “Oh, Mother! Maker of all l
iving things! Do not allow such folly to continue unto death!”
After the longest silence, a cheerful voice replied, asking, “Are you addressing me?”
“Yes!” Asotos squealed in panic as he felt the blade cut ever so slightly into his skin. “Yes! I’m talking to you. Save me from this beast!”
Lowenah frowned. “How? You placed me under oath to…”
Asotos shouted, shaking his head in distress, “I rescind it! I rescind it! You must stop this folly!”
Lowenah urged her mount forward, stopping within speaking distance of her field marshal. Asotos grinned, looking down haughtily at Trisha. In just above a whisper, he chided, “All this foolishness is for nothing. Now be off to tend your camels...”
Trisha hissed, twisting the blade point as she did, “Only a fool monkey laughs in a tiger’s face. Ask the others… I’ve been known to disobey orders.”
The sun falling behind the distant mountains suddenly cast a shadow across the company standing upon the lonely plain, it catching up the wisp of a chill breeze. Lowenah looked over at Asotos, warning, “A smart fly does not buzz while still trapped in the spider’s web. There is still more than your manliness in question here this day.”
She then turned her attention to Trisha, who appeared not to be paying her any heed. “Commander, the prisoners have been released. Why do you still linger here at this late hour?”
Trisha growled, “We have not yet concluded our business. I am come here to pay the Kriggerman, so that my brothers may finally cross the River, knowing their murderer is no more. The boatman’s charge of a ‘soul for a soul’ is all I seek.”
Asotos howled in dismay. “It wants to murder me! It wants to murder me!”
Lowenah asked, curious, “Is that really so? The death of this man for the souls of all your brothers slain?”
Trisha sputtered angrily, “The death of all who follow this wretched thing is insufficient payment for the evil done to my kind. No payment will ever be enough.”
Slowly shaking her head, Lowenah calmly replied, “You know I will not permit this man’s death today. It is a promise ordained for another at a future hour. It will come.”
At hearing this, Asotos began a tirade against Lowenah.
She quickly shut him up. “Quiet, you! I am the Changer of times and seasons. I rescind oaths on a whim for the likes of you, and I can change your destiny whenever I so choose. Be silent and I may allow you to yet live - something you would not have offered to my little child, Michael, had I allowed you to have your way with her this day.”
Asotos’ angry expression instantly turned to that of shock. Erithia knew of his secret plans? How? He had kept matters quiet. Only a very few of his most trusted officers knew his intentions. How many were the traitors in his camp? Should he live past this day, there would certainly be a thorough inquisition to find out the source of the leak.
Turning back to Trisha, Lowenah commented, “Since a soul for a soul will not pay the boatman, what, say, can be done - something symbolic possibly, providing a token offering to allow your kindred the River’s crossing?”
Asotos could feel the blade shaking as the woman struggled with her personal desire to cut him to pieces and her unfailing loyalty to Erithia. Her lips quivered as heated battle raged between heart and mind. Never before had Asotos heard the Boatman singing his name. His face paled as the realization grew that his life might well end this day.
The impassioned struggle between desire and duty was short-lived, but never had the time desperately dragged so slowly for Asotos. Finally, in resigned obedience to her devotion to Lowenah, Trisha called back, “Yes, I will accept a token offering in exchange for this worm - something that will permit my kind to gather to their rest across the River. It is of far more worth than he, but it is what I demand, or I shall not leave him go alive.”
Lowenah was quietly surprised, but said nothing. Her new field marshal was serious, restraining every fiber of her strength to hold back from killing this man. She could tell that it was only love that controlled the raw savagery that burned in Trisha’s breast. What had that caldron of evil from which she and the others of her kind come really done to them? Whatever it was, its creator, Lowenah’s oldest son, was now witnessing in all its glory. What would an army of these ruthless creatures do if unleashed in this universe? Lowenah asked, curious, “Is it I who must surrender this treasure up so that you will spare him for me, or…”
“It is he!” Trisha answered, interrupting. “It is a treasure of his.”
“Whatever you want!” Asotos cried, desperate. “Whatever you want! I give it to you! I give it to you!”
Trisha squinted, stretching up on her toes, pressing her face against Asotos’, snarling, “Have your girly-whore get me that big-jowled beast and delivered it here...”
Asotos yelled at Legion to hurry and bring the large guard dog, Legion resisting, railing at Trisha’s reference to him. Asotos demanded, “Just shut your mouth and get on with it!” sending Legion off grumbling. All the while, Lowenah sat her mount, expressionless, quiet, bemused by their verbal jousting.
Legion soon returned with a giant guard dog that weighed at least six stone. He stopped a safe distance away, still spouting complaints for the abhorrent treatment being meted out against his people. Standing up straight while extending the canine’s leash, he angrily muttered, “Here! Take this and go! You’ve gotten what you asked for...”
“Neuter it!” Trisha demanded, never taking her eyes off Asotos. “It’s far too valuable a trophy for this trade the way it is.”
Legion refused to neuter the dog until Trisha jabbed Asotos with the blade, threatening him, Asotos screaming out for Legion to do as he was ordered. Finally, while two soldiers held the beast, Legion castrated it, the animal howling, forlorn. Lowenah continued silent, watching events unfold.
When finished, two of Trisha’s lieutenants took the wounded animal from Asotos’ soldiers. Returning to their station, they stopped, awaiting further orders. Trisha, uttering not a word, stared up at Asotos. Without warning, she jerked her arms, cursing him as she did. Startled, Asotos snapped his head up, throwing his arms high. Trisha jumped out of the man’s reach before he could react, slowly backing away until rejoining her two officers.
Trisha need not have worried about being entrapped by Asotos - at least not at that moment. The man was so relieved to see that he remained alive and physically intact, he was giving no consideration to the prize that had escaped him. Still, as the realization of danger passed sank in, he could not but help to retort with bravado.
Shaking a threatening hand, in an angry, self-righteous, condescending tone, he accused, “Who are you to come into our world playing the ruler over us, Trisha, daughter of the dust and child of the dung heap! Go back to your forgotten world and be done with you! You’re not wanted here! Should not be polluting our world... If not for the illegitimate powers of this evil witch…” he pointed at Lowenah, “you’d be nothing at all! Child of the lost ages! Bastard of the living dead! Return to your forgotten past!”
Trisha leaned forward, squinting, her face reddening in rage. “Who am I?! Who am I?! Man of little sense, goblin-child of ignorance, your own seers spoke of me long ago, warning the likes of you regarding secret laws buried within the nature of this universe.” She pointed, shaking a hand at SalakTaqadam. “Your girly-servant, the once revered AsreHalom, wrote concerning me. In his Chronicles of TRISHA, he made this solemn pronouncement: ‘Should the world lose its glorious light and turn to the darkness of an evil age, Sharon will return to life and birth a blood day upon the children of this universe. And a sword shall arise that will turn the world red with rivers of blood, the slain being uncounted.’”
Then wagging a finger at Asotos, she chided, “So smart and wise you are, too wise to listen to your own counselor. Do you really believe the Maker of Worlds would give her glorious creation a camel-tender
’s name? Fool! Listen to your prophet and learn. “T-Tithemi! R-Rhapisma! I-Isangelos! S-Sphazo! H-Hagiazo! A-Aphorizo! Low, that evil day will bring with it the Despoiler of Worlds, Maker of Death, Bringer of Darkness. But that is not all! For I see that by the very laws of EbenCeruboam there comes behind it the Bringer of Eternal Blackness. Yes! It is but the harbinger, Sphazo, of the one to come, the Hagiazo Aphorizo, Wraith of Damnation, known as ‘Shiloh’, in the common tongue.”
Trisha thumped her chest with a fist, thundering, “It is I, the Sphazo, who has come into your world, High Lord over all the armies in the Heavens above and the worlds beneath. You contend with me, not your little sister whom you’ve toyed with for so long. I fear not death or your evil intent, for I am the Evil of prophecy, long ordained to bring your house down to dust. And yet I am but a harbinger of the one to come who will deliver your soul over to you little sister to do with you as she sees it fit to be!”
Asotos was aghast over these revelations, but before he could make reply, Trisha struck again. “You do not contend with God, but with me! The Maker of Worlds is not my master, and I not her slave. I do as I wish and go as I please. I am the Maker of Law, and all these servants of Hers will obey those laws, as they are sworn under oath to obey me.”
Without warning, Trisha yanked her lieutenant’s sword from its scabbard, spinning about in a blur, slamming it through the heart of the leashed dog. The animal yelped in pain, falling over onto its side, dead, the sword’s crosstree hilt sticking skyward.
Trisha stepped back as she turned toward Asotos while the crowd stood there in shocked silence. Extending a hand, her eyes blazing with rage, Trisha roared, “A ruin! A ruin! A ruin! I shall make it! And so the same will the manhood of the League of Brothers become. ‘The hour of the crow is finished!’ Quoth the raven, ‘Nevermore...’”
Jebbson grinned, quietly musing. “If Poe only knew...”
Trisha put a hand to her throat, calling out, “Bring it in!”
Everyone looked up to see a dark shape appear to rise out of the western shadows. In seconds, the cruiser, DusmeAstron, was settling down in the sands near the last of the wagons, its ancient gun turrets turned in Asotos’ direction.
Trisha smiled sardonically at Asotos. “You thought me left weak and defenseless, a dimwitted fool. You do not yet know who opposes you.” She shouted over to her officers to board the gunships and bring up the horses.
Asotos was stunned speechless, pondering what he was really witnessing. He did not accept Trisha’s claimed abilities, but was cautious enough to consider what she said. No doubt about it, the woman was savvy, more so than Gabrielle in some ways, but she was brash and over-confident, traits that could be easily exploited. He would see to her another time, maybe send agents to test her out...maybe.
While Asotos observed, the gun trucks retired from the field, slowly making their way up the huge ramp and into the belly of the DusmeAstron. Horses were soon delivered to Trisha and her party. After mounting up, Trisha had called over to Erithia, requesting her aide-de-camp be delivered to her. Erithia nodded, smiling, while motioning to an officer standing somewhere in the shadows behind her. At a bounding run, the man made his way over and in seconds was mounted up, waiting further orders.
Much to Asotos’ surprise, Trisha casually bantered with her immediate officers while preparations were made to depart, acting as if the day was little more than a casual outing. When things were readied to her satisfaction, she ordered the prisoners be released. As they hurried away from their captors, the field marshal turned her attention back to Asotos.
Urging her mount forward until it stopped beside the murdered dog, Trisha looked over and down at Asotos. “My king has given to your kind all these treasures delivered here this day, including the war horses from hidden worlds. I will not rescind the will of my king. These things I leave behind as her payment to your people for claimed deeds done.”
Trisha leaned forward in her saddle, squinting as she snarled, “There will be no more moots after this day, in this world or those below. When we meet again, I shall not be as kind. But for the love of my God, I would not have been so this day. I am come to reclaim the honor of the Haudenosaunez, and return the title of ‘Dragon’ to its rightful owners. This I will do in a coming hour.”
She then angrily declared so that all would hear, “My mercy to your kind ends now!” At that, she glanced down at the bleeding animal carcass and spit on it.
Whipping her steed about, she was off on a run, shouting for the others to follow. As her troop passed under the belly of the DusmeAstron, riding hard to the west, the battle cruiser slowly lifted into the evening sky. The sound of Trisha’s retreating host rapidly faded and all fell quiet, other than the occasional whispering breeze that carried upon it a chill in the gathering darkness.
Asotos glared at the shadowy figure sitting her mount, his self-righteous anger over the outrageous atrocities inflicted upon him and his people welling up within him. He was about to confront his imagined protagonist when the mesmerizing music of dancing bells again crashed upon his ears. So intense was their hypnotic power that it made him wince when his heart leaped with the pain of desires lost.
At that instant, a cheerful voice cut through the darkness, stabbing the man like a knife. “So, are we finished, or do you have other business tonight?”
Asotos screamed, “Witch! Evil witch! You’ve plagued me… us… with your stolen magic all this day, ruining all that was supposed to be by numbing my mind with your treachery and demon deeds!”
Lowenah coldly replied, “I would be careful at how I spoke to the One - the only One - who could and did save your life this day. I need not call my child back to bring you to a finish. Naked and alone you stand before me, and I with all my hidden powers riding with me.” She again cooed, “Do we have further business, or may I and my people take their leave?”
“No, you may not take your leave!” Although still enraged, Asotos cooled his rhetoric, not wishing to risk his well-being to uncertainty. “We have issues to address, must be addressed. Those… those… creatures you have delivered here, how dare you allow such vile things into our world! It is against all our living kind that you have committed such atrocities.”
“How is that so?” Lowenah asked, curious.
Asotos ranted, “You know full well. By their very design, they were flawed from the beginning. I tried to warn you - you and all the others - and what did I get for revealing the folly of your invention? Ostracism and denunciation! That’s what I got. The bodies of these monkey-children should have been returned to the melting pools where other rejected creations were tossed, before they could reproduce. I showed to all their flawed design, but you…” He shook a finger at Lowenah. “but you let them continue to live!” He shook his head in dismay. “And now you have delivered those same decrepit abominations into our world, brought them here to pollute this land, our home.”
Lowenah scowled. “I will not debate you tonight or any other night regarding my lovely creation - one, as I recall, you were deeply infatuated with until I produced his blonde-haired companion who rivaled my child, Michael, in her appearance and beauty.” She frowned, accusing, “What did you offer in return? What was your vision for those worlds but brutish men more like the wild ape than the gods, with weak minds and arrogant hearts? And what of womankind? Your choice was an enslaved servitude for all their days, blindly obedient to the real ape-men you wished to produce.”
Wagging a finger, Lowenah chastised Asotos. “The minds of dullards you desired to place in my children, so fearful of your own majesty should they prove to be as intelligent as you. No! I made all my children with insightful potential equal to mine, so that one day all my secrets they could understand, and then even they could teach me new things. ‘Fear no intelligence,’ your own wise man, AsreHalom, once stated, as you well recall, ‘but fear the stupid one with an arrogant heart.’”
/>
Asotos pointed off toward the west, ranting, “You call the antics displayed today by those… those things… that thing… insightful?! Oh, what folly to allow our world to be contaminated by such loathsome creatures.”
Leaning back, Lowenah asked sardonically, “Of what folly are you referring to, the antics of those monkey-children, or the torture and murder of your own brothers and sisters at the hands of those in your keep?”
Asotos shrugged, pious. “What? How can one naked and alone be held responsible for the actions of others? You, yourself, have said that my kingdom is illegitimate. If that is so, then how do I share in the crime of another man? Little control do I have over these poor, wretched souls who flock to my arms after being cast away by you. I do the best I can, considering. I cannot be everywhere at the same time. I have no hidden powers to keep these people in check. Things will happen. One must be understanding of such damaged souls.”
“Bullshit and fiddle de-de!” Lowenah exclaimed. “Blow it downwind so you don’t stink up this place! I need not defend my actions or address your accusations, for everyone here knows the kind of inveterate liar and whore-master you are. I asked you what further business you have tonight. Speak up or I will take my leave.”
Shocked at the rebuke, but realizing well that Lowenah might not be bluffing, Asotos fought down his aching desire to return the insult. No, the fear Trisha and the other off-worlders had put in his heart impelled him to force an agreement with Erithia that would halt any further of that rabble from being delivered to his world.
Asotos ranted, “Still, you shouldn’t have brought them here.”
Lowenah refused to be placed on the defensive. “Long ago, I spoke concerning these sons of Adam being delivered to this place. It was no secret to you. Within the very Holy Book that you stole to accomplish your sordid purposes, the statement was written clearly that one day those monkey-children would enter these worlds as warriors and demon-chasers. It’s not my fault if, in your ignorance, you failed to discover my words. Or did you refuse to believe that I had the power to bring them here, so paid my prophet’s written word no heed?”
Asotos did not acknowledge the question, but chose to continue his attack. “By your very traditions, you have taken counsel when making weighty decisions that affect the citizens of this world. Not once have you come to the table to take up the debate as to whether our world should be opened to the likes… to any other-worlder. This is our world, given to us long before that kind was even a whisper. You have betrayed our customs, our ways, and your very traditions. Oh, what a shame...” He placed a hand over his heart, standing ever so pious. “I have never claimed to rule with absolute wisdom, doing the best I can with whatever skills I have developed. You! You have always claimed mystical powers and insight, but still choose to ignore your own trusted customs in this regard. What good is the music when you dance to your own tune? How can you expect our trust when you take the twisted road?”
Lowenah quietly sat her mount, offering no rebuttal. Indeed, this was the contest she had anticipated, desired. Having appeared to be backed into a corner by shrewd speech, she asked defensively, “So what must be done to correct this oversight of mine?”
Asotos wanted to wildly rant that this was no oversight, but a willful act of malcontent. He chose not to, seeing a door of strategic opportunity open before him. He must strike now, while it remained such. These wild off-world creatures were dangerous, a real threat when conflict again arose… something already in his plans. No, the moment was now to rid him of this threat.
He shook a finger at Lowenah, demanding, “You must return those… those things back to whence they came, and promise to never pollute this world with their kind again!”
Lowenah remained quiet the longest time. She finally spoke while slowly shaking her head. “This is become the home of the children I have delivered here. I will not, cannot send them back. They are now of this world whether anyone desires it or not. As for your other demand, never is a very long time, too long for such a promise.”
Asotos lifted his arm in retort. Before he could speak, Lowenah made a counter-offer. “I am willing to do this...”
Asotos stopped, waiting to hear more.
“In the end, there are two opposing destinies sought by you and me: you, to retake in conquest the glory you believe was stolen from you and to capture whatever powers await you hidden in the Palace...and me, to have my children drive you from this world, and to eventually hand you over to my little child to choose to do with you as she pleases. It is a horse race, the winner takes all.”
Lowenah leaned forward. “Should you win, I will leave this universe, never to return. It is yours for as long as time within it exists. Should I win…well, then, I will do as I have already spoken. My victory ride you will not witness.”
She waved a hand. “Now here’s the deal: I will promise not to interfere with coming events once hostilities have been engaged upon, and I will not deliver any more of my other-world darlings here if you take the Palace, or until after my children drive you from this world.” Sitting up straight, Lowenah declared what Asotos’ end of the bargain must be. “For your part, you must take an oath unto death that you and your ilk will no longer directly interfere in any way with the children in the Lower Realms. You must leave them be until Salem’s glory is revealed.”
This was a bitter pill for Asotos, something not to his liking at all! His clandestine activities in the Realms Beneath were many and varied. This was a lopsided arrangement, totally unfair! He was opening his mouth to offer rebuff when EremiaPikros’ moon suddenly broke over the horizon, its cold, silvery light casting a chill breeze over the land.
Darla shivered from the cold, her bells setting Asotos’ world ablaze. He cried out, clutching his head, shouting angrily, “Who are you and why do you continue to torture me?!” Still holding his head, Asotos stepped forward, impatient, shouting, “Who are you?!”
Lowenah spoke up, her irritation very clear. “Why do you address my horse-maiden when there is business to finish here?”
“Be off with you, witch!” Asotos pushed against the air with his hands as if warding off a blow. “Always you stop up the mouth of your servants while proclaiming their freedom!”
“Enough!” Lowenah retorted. “Speak she will, but not until our business is finished!” Asotos glared at Lowenah. Before he could make reply, she continued, “I proposed to you a deal. What do you say? Speak and finish our negotiations, and then you may seek answers to other questions.”
Asotos was frustrated, his senses overwhelmed by the creature hiding in the shadows who was making that terrible, wonderful music. He could not concentrate on anything else until these most pressing questions were answered. As the events of the day spun about in his mind, the need to know was driving him to distraction.
He shook his fist, pointing, “That creature has been our business all day! You have tortured me with its incessant intrusions since the morning hour. Intentional it is, and I demand my questions be answered!”
“What, this creature?” Lowenah acted surprised. “This creature, this woman, my darling child, is come a horse-maiden at my request...just a horse-maiden.”
Asotos railed angrily, “That creature… woman… has been troubling me all this day, her music pulsing in my head to effect a total distraction! You have made a travesty of our traditions by bringing her here. It is the witchery of ardor-music that she plays, and you know it.”
“I’m sorry.” Lowenah apologized, concerned, “I didn’t know you were still into women. Have your girly-boys tired of your charms, or has your manhood become weak because of some fever? Or have manly desires faded because of the mental stress from caring for all those poor, lost souls in your keep?”
Muffled chuckles echoing across the chill air infuriated Asotos. He lashed out against his antagonist. “Your ways are crooked and twisted, filled with malice and decei
t! Through public humiliation, you seek to gain your advantage over the innocence of others. You attack the very freedoms each and every citizen of the League of Brothers has been endowed with in our constitution. I – we - practice openly, freely, the arts of love that move our hearts. Men with men, men with women… should they choose… it is each person’s choice. Yet you attempt to make a mockery of those freedoms.”
Lowenah raised an eyebrow. “So, who has endowed your people with these constitutional rights?”
Asotos’ face reddened in rage, but he quickly gathered his wits about him as he shouted, “You have attempted a coup on the children by declaring your godship over them. Their endowed rights are beyond anything you could offer.”
Lowenah smiled. “True... I cannot offer what is not mine to give. By the very creation of my children, they have inherited laws and freedoms beyond my ability to offer. So, now that we have settled that matter, let me ask you again, are you back into women, or is it just a passing sickness, or…?”
“Enough!” Asotos screamed. “Enough!”
Lowenah paid no attention, calmly continuing, “Or has this woman creature rekindled the old flame you once had for your sisters?”
“You deserve no answer at all!” Asotos ranted, shaking his fist. “But I deserve one from you. Who is this woman?”
Lowenah slowly shook her head. “Not until we finish our other business, or this night is over and we shall leave the field to you.”
“All right! All right!” Asotos surrendered to Lowenah’s demands. “I agree to the arrangement. I and my people will no longer engage in any direct activities in the Lower Realms until Salem’s Day, and you will leave the future to be decided without your witching powers. And, you will not bring anymore of that rabble into this universe.”
“Unto your death by the hidden powers of this universe if you renege on your oath...” Lowenah added.
The bells echoed across the otherwise quiet, moonlit eve. Asotos grabbed his head, shaking it angrily. “Yes! Yes! Unto death…I promise.”
Lowenah grinned. “Good. Good. Now what was the other business you wished to discuss with me?”
Clenching his fists, Asotos fumed, “You know full well my business! Now reveal your secrets, witch of darkness. Show me my tormentor.”
Lowenah leaned down to her right, quietly asking her darling to come forward. Cautiously, Darla stepped out from the shadows of Lowenah’s mount and into the moonlight. The fragrant oils mother requested the woman wear lit up her skin with a cosmic, golden sheen in the silvery-white moonlight.
Long ago she had seen Asotos from afar, but never this close up in person. Not knowing exactly what was expected of her, Darla offered a slight bow, saying nothing. When she straightened up, the bells that had been plaguing Asotos all day fell from her breasts, falling to the ground in a thunderous crash.
Asotos gasped, not even hearing the bells. His eyes bulged and jaw dropped at what he was seeing. After catching his breath, he cried, “Schiel’ahh, what has the witch done, delivered you to this world to torture me?!”
Darla had no idea who or what ‘Schiel’ahh’ was. In stunned silence, she stared into Asotos’ face. Lowenah spoke up. “You speak a long -forgotten name, Schiel’ahh, a child of gift given to a righteous man and taken a slave by your evil henchmen. Why do you call out her name?”
His eyes fixated on Darla, Asotos excoriated Lowenah. “The one child of earth my heart was so consumed with, and you murdered her! Murdered her! Now has your evil witchery returned her here for my torment, or is she but an apparition of my cherished love sent to tear my heart asunder? Evil! That is what you are to all the sons of righteousness!”
“Watch your tongue!” Lowenah snapped. “My tolerance of your impertinence is limited. If you wish to depart this eve a whole man, keep your vessel in check.”
Asotos glared at Lowenah. In return, she smiled. “Never will I allow you the rape of Schiel’ahh. Yes, she will, one day, return to a world free of your intrusions, but you will not be witness to it.” She pointed at Darla. “This woman is my little child who I held close the day your revolt became manifest. Today she has been delivered here to face the man who ruined her world, a world she never got to know because of him.”
Asotos stepped forward, his hand reaching out for the woman. Instantly another shadow stepped out from the darkness, blocking his path. Startled, Asotos halted, taken aback by the sudden intrusion.
Ardon stopped, standing between Asotos and the woman, an arm outstretched, fingers wide with palm out. “You have no place here!” Ardon bravely announced. “Take your stolen treasures and go back to the darkness from which you came.”
Though surprised by Ardon’s bold move, Asotos quickly reacted. Lifting a threatening hand, he chided sinisterly, “So brave the monkey when its mother is near. Does the second fiddle wish to play the lead this hour, foolish jabberer, mindless wanderer, profiteer of empty knowledge, and seeker of hidden worlds? Watch yourself! Step aside or I’ll not be as kind to you as at our last meeting.”
As the two men glared at each other, Ardon shook a hand, warning, “Leave the distempered in peace and depart back into the Abyss to await your lasting day.”
Before Asotos could reply, Lowenah’s voice, having gathered the thunders behind it, raged against the two. “Be off to the Abyss with the both of you!”
The ground began to shake violently, people finding it difficult to stand. While the tumult continued, flaming sentinels appeared, burning hot, white like the sun, their brightness like static spires. Choking dust and smoke enveloped the air, blotting out the moon while strangling the lungs. In fear and dismay, many of the people fell to their knees, some beseeching strange and foreign deities while others begged for Lowenah’s mercy.
Gradually the quaking storm subsided, leaving the crowd subdued and in shock, but no worse for wear, other than coated with red, powdery, talc dust. All about them were stationed thousands upon thousands of fiery sentinels, flaming, blinding white. Long had it been since any of her children were witness to these ‘Cherubs’, as some called them, and none ever recalled seeing them in such vast numbers, or so bright. It was told by a few that the brightness of the Guardians reflected Lowenah’s temperament. If that was so, then she must be in a very foul mood at the moment.
Anger blazing in her eyes, Lowenah bristled contemptuously, “There are more with me than with you! And this is but the vanguard of only one of my armies!”
She then directed her verbal storm at Ardon. “Second fiddle to a fool you are at times, and this is one such time! This is my day! My hour! My moment! Shall I ask the spit-weed to gather the tempest, then might I call upon you. You speak prattle and with brashness! Little do I doubt your bravado, but no power of wisdom exists with it. Not for the protection of my child do I see your motive, but for self-glory, fearing not the man’s poison because Mother is near. Death is deserved for touching what is holy, even if it is done innocently...”
Ardon lowered his head in dismay, still not fully understanding Lowenah’s scathing denunciation, or grasping the seriousness of his actions, but he did not desire her ill will. “Mother, I have acted rebelliously, seeing only a little of the picture, and carrying on imprudently. I am wrong in this instance and deserve whatever penalty you choose to mete out.”
Her anger somewhat diminished, as the fading brilliance of the sentinels indicated, Lowenah commanded, “Go back to your station and do not interfere again with these proceedings, or I shall deal you a lasting blow.”
Ardon turned to face Lowenah, bowing low. “Your servant...” he replied after standing erect, just before hurrying away.
Lowenah now addressed Asotos. “Riddle me this...
‘It casts itself upon the web,
to cause to die and make life begin.
To be consumed, it does succeed,
but to make the hungry weaver bleed.
/> And in its death, it brings to life,
the avenger that will do it right.’”
Asotos frowned as if being bothered by a childish intrusion. “Even one of little wit will understand such a foolish riddle. It is the schulipp fly that falls by intent into the spider’s web in order to be caught up by the spider. Then, when within its grasp, the dying fly implants her eggs into the spider’s thorax, leaving them there to grow until they drink the spider’s blood and consume its inward parts, eventually killing the spider.”
Lowenah leaned forward, looking down at Asotos, sadly nodding. “So, too, must my world die...”
Confused, Asotos stared up at Erithia, waiting for her to explain her new riddle. She did not. Sitting back, she cast her eyes upon Darla. The girl was not yet comprehending all that had recently taken place. Ardon’s words were stinging, when they finally sank in, but not the worst she had heard when in the company of important people. She did puzzle regarding other matters, though. Everyone about her was covered in red dust to the point of being little more than living shadows on the desert plain - that is, all except her and the man facing her. Curious...
Lowenah spoke up. “The tongue of the Serpent is smooth and cunning - a great weapon when wielded with skill. Also powerful is the secret person of the heart when carried in the hand of the modest one. These are the instruments of my choosing this night. The horses are at the gate.” She cast her gaze back and forth between Darla and Asotos. “Use them wisely...”
Darla dropped the reins of Lowenah’s horse, staring with trepidation into Asotos face. This was not expected at all. She was not prepared for this situation. With sword and buckler, the woman was used to dealing with an enemy. Now, here stood the greatest of all villains and she bereft of all weapons save a long knife, one she was forbidden to use. Naked she stood there, awaiting whatever fate was to be hers, not knowing quite what to do at all.
Asotos broke the silence, he understanding well the riddling words Erithia just spoke. This was the beginning of the horse race, winner take all. What was the prize though - this girl creature? Or was there something greater to be won tonight? Well, whatever the greater might possibly be, first he must succeed in capturing this creature by luring her into his web.
In a voice filled with compassionate tenderness, he lifted an outstretched hand. “I see the face of a troubled child, one abused and berated by evil siblings seeking to tear away her heart and soul. Tell me, please, child of despair, who you are and what is your name?”
Well did Darla remember the smooth speech Asotos delivered up to Trisha this very day, and how empty and hollow it really came to be. Still, this man was now speaking to her, the harmonics of his words flowing into her ears and wafting upon her mind. Sweet, so sweet the melodious tunes his speech was playing within her soul, consoling, sympathetic, and… and… sensual. Already she was feeling an erotic tingle growing between her thighs.
“Who are you, child?” Asotos cooed again, taking a small step toward her.
Darla stood up, razor straight, keeping her wits about her. This man was her mortal enemy. He sought her destruction. He ruined her sister long ago, attempted it again this very day. Be alert! Stay alert!
“My darling little child, fear not the foolish prattle of wise councilors,” Asotos glanced into the shadows where Ardon stood. “Such pompous hubris is not permitted in my camp. Your heart is safe with me. Please, what, my cherished one, is your name? Who are you?”
Oh, what a smooth tongue - a tongue speaking words that Darla so wished to be true for her. So long she had endured the whispers and malcontent of others, the unknowing and uncaring. How could this person know so quickly her plight unless he also harbored within his bosom an understanding heart, having suffered the same? Oh, how he must be playing her at this very moment! But it felt so sincere, so real, so caring - feelings she had so long desired to receive from a man. Even Euroaquilo lacked the depth of solicitude this man was displaying.
“Child…” Asotos’ voice was filled with concern. “It is you and I standing upon the edge of Time, the universe waiting to discover us. Please, what is your name so that I may hold it dear to my breast and fondle its very existence?”
Nervously, Darla answered in quiet prose, “Who am I? Birthed was the name given me, ‘RachelOchlah’, but I am come to be called ‘RachelOchranNohah’, because I am a troubling thing to the people of this world. For I am the star of the evening, sinker of dreams, bringer of pain and despair, becoming a shadow-walker and demon-chaser, child of damnation and giver of death. Ugly and cancerous I am, bringing disease to all who touch me, cursed by the old age and rejected by the new.”
She then pressed a finger to her chest. “So I have taken to myself a new and dreadful name, filled with woe and despair, a more fitting name for a loathsome creature as myself – ‘DarlaUmehahAstrni, ‘barrow watcher’ - for I feed upon the dead in my night dreams and seek escape from the living in the light of day.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “‘Darla’ is my name - bringer of torment and dismay.”
Asotos was completely taken aback. This time Lowenah did not smile, nor was she bemused. Long ago her little girl had chosen that name for herself, not revealing its meaning to anyone. Lowenah thought little of it at the time, it being common for her children to do such things. Her heart began to ache with remorse over what her little child must have suffered at the hands of those calling themselves her ‘brothers and sisters’. This was a chink in the girl’s armor Lowenah had not seen. Had she known of it, today might have been planned differently...so, so, dangerous...but there was nothing for it now. The race was already begun.
Disarming, so innocent and open with her feelings Darla was, so disarming. Asotos could little believe the honesty of heart he was witnessing. But ‘once burned, twice learned’, he was not going to fall for such sincerity this time. He kept his guard up while looking for opportunity to use this newfound knowledge to his advantage.
Asotos frowned, tears filling his eyes. “Child, it cannot be so! How could this evil be permitted with the Maker of Worlds watching over you? Innocent – oh, sweet innocent sister, my little sister, my heart pains me so to think of the wickedness you have suffered.”
Darla stared into Asotos’ smoothly shaven face as his musical words bathed her heart and soul in hypnotic sensuality. How beautiful his eyes, strong chin, determined brow, and gracious dignity. This was no man, but a god risen up from the stories of the Ones Who Came Before! Her flesh tingled in delightful excitement, growing with intensity every time he uttered words from his golden tongue. What was wrong? She brought a hand to her head in response to a growing dizziness twirling about in her brain.
Asotos advanced until he stood only inches from Darla, a mist carried on his breath, filled with the scent of manly desire. Involuntarily, Darla sucked in the intoxicating aroma, it filling up the loneliness inside with growing passion. “Darla… Darla…what an unfitting name for a goddess such as yourself. Who cannot see your beauty, or feel your compassionate desire?”
Darla sighed, anxious, as a heated rush swept through her, goose bumps rising on her skin while sweat formed on her brow. What was wrong? No man had ever roused the animal within her as this person was doing! A beast was waking inside, seeking its carnal lasciviousness, heedless of trap or danger. She drew in another deep breath of the heated mist, it sending her heart aflutter while throwing her mind into an orgasmic faint, the feeling racing down through her body until she quietly moaned in the ecstatic flow.
Asotos smiled sweetly, sensing the woman’s labored breathing. “Dear one, the moon reveals love’s yearnings. Have the powers of evil kept secret from you the man I truly am? ‘Giver of Dreams Beyond Dreams’ is my name – ‘Chrusion, the Master of Love’. All your sisters have gathered their arms to me and know this to be true. Have they selfishly hidden from you these truths so that you, alone, have not experienced the fourth heaven?
Malcontents they are, jealous and afraid, not caring that you, too, deserve to experience the same as they.”
Asotos’ voice echoed his own growing desire for this woman. “Oh, how you move me, my manly ardor seeking your flowered palace, to find its journey through scented streets into hidden chambers of fathomless delights. Your breasts intoxicate me in ways unlike that of any other woman. To drink at the fountains of life such a delight, I to make their milky springs burst forth to satisfy my thirsty palate. Oh, my darling, the gifts we could share by our touch, our embrace...” He reached out to rest a hand the Darla’s shoulder as he leaned forward to kiss the woman’s wanting lips.
“That is enough!” Lowenah’s sharp, scolding tongue cut through the night. “Words, I said, and that is all. Trust me, I will strike should you attempt a coup with a touch or kiss.”
Asotos glared at Erithia, but chose to speak no word in rebuff. Darla was nearly swooning under his spell and he dare not risk breaking it. He again took up his haunting refrains of fervid love songs, titillating Darla’s imagination with his display of wanting desire. “Oh, my darling little sister, like a virgin lass you are to me. Come to my lush fields of flowered clover and learn what it is like to become a woman in the arms of a god-son. Feel my strength as we ride, together, the comets across the velvety skies of wistful dreams.”
Like an unbridled girl waiting her first love, Darla spread her mind, opening her heart to Asotos’ beckoning spirit. As she did, he reached into her soul with his spirit, to gather hers to his. There, together entwined in mental copulation, he sang love’s most sensual of songs, all the while telling her that this rapturous interlude was but a shadow of things to come when, soon, they would be entwining physically in each other’s arms.
Darla was becoming lost in a romantic rhapsody, the depths of which she had never experienced. The ecstasy of the moment cast lights of dancing hues across the woman’s eyes with each wave of climactic delight. As the unleashed cosmic energy of the emotional intercourse raced through her body, the woman felt her legs growing weak while her heart began to pain with excitement to the point of bursting. Her arms slowly closed about her body in a sensual embrace, and soon the erotic touch of excited fingers was adding to the energy of the hypnotic symphony twirling about in her head.
Asotos smiled. Long had it been since he had practiced using his seductive powers to sway the heart of a woman. Well he remembered his joy when his twisting music could open the soul of the most wary of Erithia’s vixens, discovering their deepest secrets to use to his advantage, to satisfy his desires. He frowned. Not all had fallen to his wiles. Threatening those creatures were, with extraordinary mightiness. So he had to driven them away from his company, for fear they would discover the truth.
As Darla moaned in growing arousal, lost in lustful, passionate visions, Asotos probed deeper into the woman’s hidden chambers secreted away from even her closest companions. How disappointing -worthless refuse of a troubled mind and cheated heart! Little could he find to support his suspicions concerning Erithia’s reasons for delivering this girl to him. Oh, yes, it was not by chance this Darla was Erithia’s horse-maiden, but why? What was the trickster up to? Deeper on he probed.
So easily Asotos managed to open the most secret of sealed rooms in Darla’s mind. On and on the man delved until, suddenly, he found a passage far back in the recesses of Darla’s mind that was so ominous and foreboding that even Asotos felt a chill run down his back. He smiled. So, there was something special about this creature, something dark and sinister. His heart raced with excitement as he slowly began to make his way down the passage to guarded chambers far below.
Asotos’ searching came to an abrupt stop, sending a crashing pain back up through his mind. A wall of impenetrable energy barred his path, the girl’s mental powers so great that even as he played his most hypnotic music, she refused to allow entrance to the domains beyond. Risking losing control over the woman, he gathered up all his available inner strength to see what lay beyond those guarded doors.
Surprised, Asotos let out a quiet gasp – a gasp that went unnoticed by Darla, she being lost in feverish orgasms. There was something alive hiding beyond the locked passage, a beast unlike anything he had ever encountered either in vision or reality. In anger, it hissed, recognizing him by calling out his name, reviling him for his intrusion into its private world. It then quickly bounded away into the fathomless depths, leaving the man perplexed and troubled.
Before Asotos could gather his wits about him, he heard another creature crying out his name in despair. Far beyond his mental reach, a voice, hideous and beautiful, called out hopefully for desired rescue, like a child pleading for help from its father. Asotos jerked back, dumbfounded at what he had witnessed. Something else was alive inside this woman’s mind that sought escape from this prison, something so hauntingly familiar, something longing to be with him!
At that instant, Darla heard the faintest of cries echoing up through the rapturous music being played across her mind and heart. The demon was waked, its evil voice intruding upon those passionately intoxicating interludes. With all her strength, the woman reached back into her mind to chase her monster away so that she might enjoy a little longer this most haunting of moments. Then she heard it, the creature calling out to the man who was giving her these dreams of dreams, beseeching him for deliverance.
Darla’s eyes flew open in horror at the thought that the demon was calling out to its creator in desperate hope for rescue. She turned and stared dumbly into Asotos’ face. Here stood the only man who could ever give to her the Dream of Dreams, the ecstasy of the Immortals - her greatest enemy, king over the demons of both flesh and spirit.
Gradually, reality began to sink in. The whispered tales told by Lowenah’s daughters when the wine was on them held more truth than Darla had ever guessed - tales so outrageous that they made the girl’s heart ache at the telling of them. Now her heartache was growing at the thought of never realizing the indescribable, heated passion experienced by those women in former days. With each passing second of her waning erotic fires, the girl’s heart was sinking further into forlorn despair.
What was happening? Why did she have to suffer this evil at experiencing, even if only in vision, what was never to be hers to luxuriate in? Looking up at Lowenah with pleading eyes and a face reflecting betrayal, Darla choked out a mournful cry filled with lament and anguish. Her mind screamed out in a naked savagery like that of a wounded lioness mourning her murdered cubs, ‘Why have you hidden these secrets from your little child?! Am I so wicked so that I, alone, must receive this loss, to never reach the mountain peaks and soar above the clouds as all my other sisters have?! Who are you to deliver me to Heaven’s gate to only cast me into the depths of Hell?’
Backing away from Asotos, Darla turned to stare up at the bright, full moon. Chiding the girl for her insolence for even thinking she deserved better, the moon’s cold silvery light shouted out its scathing rebuke. ‘See, little brattling, even the Maker of Worlds has harbored no place for you in her heart, playing the cat with you in order to toy with the man hurting her. She has used you up to the full, leaving only an empty shell of worthlessness, which you already were in the eyes of everyone living. Now you also see the pain he gives, and so much you deserve it to be, misfit! Worthless little piece of filth, troubling thing...’
Asotos lifted a hand in sympathy at seeing Darla’s plight, his tongue seeking to cast its magic spell over her. “My child, dearest of all my sisters, how sweet have been these fleeting moments. Oh, how much I desire to wrap you up in my embrace. You do not know the anguish of my heart at seeing my dearest child weep, and so needlessly. Come...come with your lover dear and we shall find Heaven’s delights.”
Darla broke into a pitiable howl as she sank to her knees. Pitching forward on her elbows, she buried her face in her hands, wailing like a mother birthing a lifeless child. Who could she trust? No on
e! No one! Treachery and deceit were her life-long companions, the mocking jaybird her ally. Oh, to die! Oh, the wonderful delight of feeling nothing, forever nothing.
Sitting back on her knees, she reached out toward the moon, wailing beseechingly, “Let me die! Oh! Oh, please let me die! Have mercy on me! Fall from your haughty perch and deliver me to ruination!” Through broken sobs, she cried, “An abomination I am in this desolate land, a living abortion of revulsion! Take from me your cruel denunciations and cast me from life so that I may have peace. What, am I too unfit for a warrior’s tomb? Then give me a dog’s grave, or that of the forgotten foe. Rest! Oh, please, kill me now so that I may find some rest!”
Hands on knees, Darla cast her gaze down and began a lament of distraught outbursts and intense weeping. Silently, all the people gathered there watched, some in curiosity, others in empathetic remorse. Asotos stood quiet, waiting the moment to pass, understanding the need for this creature to get this out of her system before he could continue. Lowenah sat her mount, saddened by the need to punish her innocent child so, but this was Rhiannon’s night. The suffering of this child was only a shadow of the evil hour to come.