The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix

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  By the time the EremiaPikros flotilla rendezvoused with the main fleet, and the exchange goods were transferred over to Asotos’ flagship, the super carrier, AugustOne, the mood of the men and officers was festive. Asotos had talked up the day as being filled with one outstanding success after another. Generous he was also, distributing a great deal of spoil out to his officers, and opening the ships’ larders to the general crews. Tonight was to be a night of celebration.

  Wine flowed aplenty across the fleet, sailors and soldiers making a merry time of it. The celebration aboard the AugustOne was even more high spirited. Asotos permitted some of the female junior officers to join their male colleagues in the main lounge, they providing part of the erotic entertainment for those who found pleasure in such delights.

  Much of the music played by the AugustOne’s orchestra was sensuous and provocative - of course, being mixed with a generous smattering of patriotic and inspirational selections. This regaling atmosphere made for the occasional discreet interlude, Asotos feeling that certain displays of male affection needed to be reserved for more private encounters. On the other hand, the women were taken when, where, and how the men chose to do so, they being considered little more than part of the evening’s entertainment.

  While boisterous revelry proceeded with near abandon all about the lounge’s main ballroom, things were much more orderly and subdued at the admiral’s table. From that vantage point, the entire ballroom could be observed. Also, because of it being a few steps above the main floor, all those on the lower level could easily see the goings on up there as well. Although wine flowed and merriment was aplenty, there remained an air of authority and aloofness among those celebrating.

  The captains from other fleet ships and invited ranking officers would, after building up the courage, one by one, make occasion to step up to the admiral’s table, offering their congratulations to their supreme commander for his outstanding victory over such an evil foe. Asotos, always the most generous and beguiling host when in the public’s eye, would smile humbly and bow his head in shyness, thanking them for their unwarranted praise, and then would return a compliment of some sort to them.

  It was after the orchestra was finished playing ‘Humble Shall All Mighty Men Walk’, a song taken by Asotos as his personal anthem, that the standing audience’s attention was turned to their glorious leader as he stood to address them. Lifting his glass high, he saluted the maker of its contents. “Here’s to Medeba! Her sorcery with the grape and flower has been forever unmatched. Today we have procured some of the last of her witching brew. Drink up and enjoy! Drink to her long-secreted arts that no other person has been able to master.”

  Everyone lifted their glasses high and sang out their praises to the fine wine, and to Asotos’ outstanding diplomacy in obtaining this rare drink. Truth be said, there were only a few dozen bottles of this very rare drink delivered into Asotos’ hands, and these were already thousands of years aged, Medeba having been deceased these many millennia now. From wine cellars hidden deep in the mountain east of Palace City were the few bottles taken for the Prisoner Exchange, and more precious was the elixir in weight than the finest of emeralds and sapphires. So it was that, other than the pure drink being enjoyed at the admiral’s table, the remainder of the company received a very much-diluted taste, mixed with ordinary wine.

  Asotos went on to praise the heroic deeds of his officers in the face of such overwhelming odds, giving honorable mention by name to several of them, including Godenn. This was important to do considering that the League of Brothers remained welded together on the premise that leadership was a cohesive body of one, for one, and with one. Of course, Asotos listed off the names of the brave soldiers murdered, seeking a moment of silence, after which he promised revenge for those atrocities.

  He then asked his loyal vice chancellor for the League of Brothers, Legion, to stand up beside him. For several minutes, he offered his accolades regarding Legion’s remarkable negotiating prowess during the Prisoner Exchange. The enthusiastic response of the audience was due in part to Asotos’ charismatic nature and captivating oratory. This was their leader at his greatest, when the wine relaxed his tongue so that his words flowed as smoothly as the intoxicating drink washed across the palate.

  At the end of his speech, Asotos drew the company’s attention to a person recently arrived at the admiral’s table. “My loyal brothers,” Asotos lifted his hands before extending them outward to his audience. “long we have warred against an evil foe that has attempted our destruction. Through deception, lies, and other hideous forms of subversion, the witch of darkness, Erithia, has maintained control over her kingdom, all the while twisting truth to keep the followers of the Children’s Empire loyal and obedient to her sinister machinations.”

  He grinned, motioning for that newly arrived person to join him. I would like to introduce you to one of our new officers, Captain IlaniyaDeCapreiat.”

  There was subdued applause, but for the most part the majority of the crowd politely stood there, many the faces filled with curiosity, some with misgivings. Asotos smiled. This was what he had hoped for, expected. Ilaniya was not a stranger to the League of Brothers. She was an Ancient and an outspoken protagonist of the League. Most often serving as Erithia’s liege or aide to the one of her councils, the woman was also a competent soldier and qualified officer. Her face was widely recognized among those in the crowd, thus the reason for their reaction to her introduction.

  “Men! Brothers!” Asotos lifted his hands high. “Well it is that this person has come to our aid in this hour. Long have I spoken of the evil and injustice done to us by the Mother of Witches. Well, here among us stands one of the most loyal and outspoken advocates of that she-beast! When the curtain of falsehood and lies was finally removed from before her, she just begged to be allowed to remain among us, wishing to lend her support to bringing defeat to the Children’s Empire, and forcing the Evil One from her palace.”

  He shouted cheerfully. “Please give Captain Ilaniya a warm welcome!”

  This time the crowd was enthusiastic, the room filling with applause and the occasional salutation. It mattered little why or how the woman came to change loyalties, or what kind of persuasion was used to accomplish it. Most of the men in this room were high-ranking officers, familiar with and practiced in the various arts and methods used to obtain desired objectives. They learned long ago not to ask questions regarding these kinds of matters.

  Smiling while putting his arm around Ilaniya’s shoulders, the chancellor over the League of Brothers announced, “The captain, here, is my personal attaché. My expatiation is for her to be respected and treated as a woman of station should be. I would personally be offended should report come to me concerning otherwise.”

  He then commanded Ilaniya to step forward and bow before the assembled throng. This sent the important message that Ilaniya was still subservient to the male officers and thus subject to their demands, within reason. Ilaniya being a personal possession of Asotos, it would be wise for the others to tread lightly when it came to the woman’s physical treatment.

  As sick at heart as Ilaniya was, she breathed a sigh of relief, believing the random acts of rape and violence - ‘partying’ as it was often called by the men - such as she was witnessing this evening, would not be as common for her as it was for most of the other women. Oh, yes, female officers were untouchable for the lower ranks, but among their fellow male officers, they were little more than objects for entertainment. No matter the humiliation heaped upon them, or discomfort endured, they were to act as if they desired it, enjoyed it, and even requested it. To do otherwise might well get them a ride under the horses, or a night with the dogs.

  As soon as Ilaniya stood erect, Asotos grabbed her arm and directed the woman toward a chair at the table next to his, he wishing not to risk the woman making a statement or remark that might dampen this grand moment. Mo
tioning the stewards, who were waiting with more food and drink to attend the crowd, the League’s chief potentate invited everyone to continue along with the celebration. As the music resumed and the boisterous chatter began again to fill the room, Asotos retired to his chair, sitting down so as to face the crowds below.

  A waiter hurried over with a plate of hot victuals and a crystal glass filled with the finest Medeba wine, placing it down in front of Ilaniya. She quietly sat there, staring at the food, her stomach far too queasy to consume it.

  While lifting his glass to toast the others, Asotos leaned over and whispered in Ilaniya’s ear, “Eat it all up, like you’re enjoying it, or I’ll give you over to the scum-weeds down below us to celebrate with. They know how to treat a woman. Most survive - takes a little getting used to, though - toughens them up, too. Tomorrow they will be required to show up for duty. No slackers in my military! Now eat!”

  Ilaniya began to do as she was ordered, smiling appreciatively even as her face paled. Several times she needed to retire to expunge what her stomach refused to accept, but she always returned to the table wearing a huge smile, eagerly digging in to have more. When she eventually passed out from the sick agony, Asotos laughed, telling the others that women just couldn’t hold their wine. He then told some attendants to carry her back to her cabin and lock the door behind them.

  Turning his attention to other matters, Asotos struck up a quiet conversation with Legion. Although his goblet had been refilled several times with the finest of aged Medeba wine, and a very comely fleet officer had been flirting with him through the evening, Legion was still in a rather glum mood.

  Concerned, Asotos leaned close, resting his hand on Legion’s, speaking ever so softly. “My dear brother, I see there is a shadow hidden behind your merriment. Tell me, please, is it something I have done to ruin this hour? I do hope that you have not taken offense over previous events. I assure you, I only acted out of need at the Prisoner Exchange, the moment becoming severe, what with Erithia’s witchery and all.”

  Legion responded that it had little to do with the man’s actions, but did agree that the abuses he suffered at the hands of those evil miscreants dampened his spirits. “Why we had to put up with that contemptuous rabble at all is beyond me! Why did we not have done with it when the opportunity presented itself to us? Mihai would have been captured, Erithia put in her place, and the riches ours for the taking.”

  Fine words - but not the real reason for Legion’s sullen mood. The man’s talisman bag taken by Sirion was filled with his treasures, trophies taken from foes and victims stretching back for millennia. Like many sadists, he kept a collection of totems, reminders from his past deeds, reliving the lurid encounters through those assorted body parts squirreled away in that bag. Now he was without them, a terrible emotional loss he dare not openly speak about, because the collecting of body parts for personal gratification was not officially sanctioned.

  He was also troubled over this Darla creature they encountered. Something about her was vaguely familiar. Oh well... Pushing that to the back of his mind, Legion decided to take advantage of his brother’s sympathetic mood, if opportunity arose.

  Asotos squeezed Legion’s hand affectionately, asking, “I so much would like to see you in a better mood than what you are at the moment. Is there something I can do for you or get that might lift your spirits?”

  Never let a golden opportunity slip through your fingers. Legion cast his eyes down at his half-filled wineglass, forlorn. “One of my pressing concerns is the enemy’s future plans regarding the MueoPoros star system and Eden’s Gate. I believe that Captain Ilaniya’s proximity to the Children’s High Council, and to Erithia herself, would well make her privy to some of that information. I do not think the outcome of the Prisoner Exchange evolved from a series of haphazard events, but was carefully planned and executed… and, also, the Zephath incident might have been no coincidence either. Ilaniya could well be a plant, part of some covert operation putting you, and possibly the entire League of Brothers at risk.”

  He tapped a finger on the table. “I feel the need to further investigate this hypothesis by prodding her for…”

  Asotos raised an eyebrow, interrupting suspiciously, “You’ve already prodded her, Godenn has prodded her, half of your lieutenants have prodded her, in fact most of your men and even your guard animals have prodded her, to the point she ruptured her vocal chords, screaming. Now, if there is anymore prodding to be done, it will be by me. She is my treasure. I’m actually quite fond of the woman. We were once very close, you know. Of course, that was a long time ago, but I may hope to rekindle some of the old flame if the desire should strike me.” He shook his head. “Ilaniya is my little trophy for my possession.”

  In dejected defense, Legion countered, “It was not the way you have taken it. I was only explaining why I feel troubled this night. Do as you wish with that creature. It means nothing to me.”

  Truth was, it meant a lot to Legion. He, too, was fond of Ilaniya in some sordid sort of way, wanting dearly to possess her. She was a very handsome woman, almost manly in the way she carried herself - strong, determined, garnering respect by her very demeanor. To have someone of such presence as your aide-de-camp, faithful servant, distraction for others when entering a room with her on your arm, could only increase one’s prestige among the other officers. Yes, he wanted her, but if he could not have her, he desired to damage the woman in some way so that she would become undesirable for Asotos’ own trophy collection.

  Asotos suspected the real motive behind Legion’s request to take Ilaniya for further examination. He would have none of that. Still, he needed to keep Legion pacified. The man’s loyalty was never certain. In this game of thrones, anyone’s’ fealty was always an uncertainty. Legion remained his most trusted officer, but for many prurient reasons other than out of devotion or respect. Legion was the best he had, his closest companion and confidant. He needed to keep the man satisfied, keep him feeling he fared better remaining as the vice chancellor.

  Tenderly squeezing Legion’s hand, Asotos smiled, explaining, “My brother, please, there are other reasons I must keep possession of that creature, reasons that may not appear obvious at this moment. For my part, I do desire so for your happiness to be complete. Look!”

  He reached out open-handed, motioning toward the far end of the table. “My personal vizier, Colonel Shuebiddee, as you well know, is a very pleasant companion, musically inclined in many and varying ways. Why not take for your leisure this night this gentleman as your steward. And, if it pleases you, have him remain close until you depart my company - that is, if you wish.”

  The faintest of smiles cracked Legion’s lips. Colonel Shuebiddee was a handsome, well-kept man, from his perfumed curly locks to his smooth face accented with a delicate splash of makeup and the slightest of paint on his rosy lips. With his impeccable grooming and fashionably natty dress, the man was the picture of desired perfection - something one could dream about, and little more.

  Colonel Shuebiddee was a favorite of Chrusion’s, a closely guarded treasure. Long had it been since Legion chanced upon the opportunity to have that man’s attention lavished upon him, or he to do otherwise. Rare, rare indeed - a valuable treasure! Still... to gather but a handful of grain while the field stood ripe for the picking was not to Legion’s liking. He must chance the victory of the moment to secure further riches - at least his cunning heart craved it to be that way. Always play it to the full for fear of losing a prize, albeit even a small one.

  Legion must be coy, ever pressing so innocently for added trophies to satisfy his lusting heart. The very protocols of the brotherhood required that the needs of the people be his primary consideration. With humble lips and sober face, while greedy desire danced a merry tune in his eyes, Legion crooned, “A large number of the men defending the line this day were from my personal guard, and most who fell were also of that number. Shou
ld I return home with only empty praise while news of rich spoil fills the ears of their fellow comrades on MueoPoros, there may well be a loud disturbance of disquiet erupting from mouths, believing the sacrifices of their brothers were not appreciated.”

  He smiled, forlorn. “But should some of the treasure… a little wine, some choice pipe weed, an appropriate bauble or two, along with a cadre of KaminosKtisis… be delivered into their hands, well, it would salve troubled minds.”

  Asotos’ eyebrows went up as he squinted. This was not unexpected, a reason he did not offer any spoils to Legion earlier. Always, there was this game of ‘up the ante’. How annoying. He smiled. It wasn’t, really. True, it might prove costly at times, but it was such fun to play. Besides, should one win too grand a reward, there was always the need to return a favor just to show good sportsmanship. Asotos wanted a favor and was willing to place a little more in the pot to receive it.

  Drawing out his reply to Legion’s request, Asotos waited the moment, drumming his fingers on the table as if in thought while doing it. Finally he answered, “I see your need in this matter, to settle the hearts of your servants over their sacrifice and loss. A case of Medeba wine and some barrels of the weed are yours for the taking. Also some of the other treasures are yours. These we can finalize when inventory is completed in the morning. As for your cadre of KaminosKtisis, you do know their value. I believe that a cadre of two should serve your needs quite well, or should I offer three?”

  Legion’s eyes beamed with excitement and greed. He could not believe his good fortune, nor did he consider the reason for his brother’s generosity. “Thank you! Thank you!” He shook Asotos’ forearm in gratitude. “You are such a generous man!”

  Asotos grinned, exclaiming, “It is done!” He quickly turned to his other officers, lifting his hands high, shouting, “Enjoy the night to its full! Eat! Drink! Have a good time!”

  Pouring Legion another glass of Medeba wine, Asotos fell into quiet conversation regarding other matters. “You do know, my brother, this day has been most revealing in other, less discernable ways. I have made some very important discoveries.”

  Legion’s ears perked up. “Yes, my brother, what other matters have you discovered?”

  Asotos answered in a hush, “There are things living among us - things, creatures, of my invention, hidden deep within sealed vaults, far from prying eyes - lives within lives, minds within minds, souls within souls, yes, living, thinking, feeling creatures seeking communication with their maker.”

  Legion asked aghast, “Is it really so? Have you discovered the Zaelocks among the children of the Witch?”

  Asotos shook his head. “No. I speak not of an abomination, a creature made into a demon. I speak of a demon living within a creature, separate from and whole in thought, mind, and soul, yet feeding upon the spirit of its host to survive. A demon cried out to me today as though it were imprisoned, trapped, in a place of its disliking, kept there by force, against its will.”

  “Did this Trisha creature reveal these secrets to you?” Legion asked, his voice filled with concern.

  Asotos remained silent, slowly shaking his head.

  “Then who?” No more were the words out of Legion’s mouth when his face filled with astonishment. “Darla?! The creature some think is the Therioskotia?”

  Grinning, Asotos nodded, adding, “I have made some inquiries regarding this woman creature. She is my little sister, youngest of Erithia’s brood. It was told me that she was damaged severely on the day we were driven from the Palace, and has never been completely cured in the head since that day. I also am told that she suckled at Michael’s breasts in the months after her attack. Somehow, in some way, one or more of the demons I planted in that woman transferred to Darla as she drank her sister’s milk.”

  “Impossible!” Legion exclaimed, shaking his head. “If such a thing is really so, then it is possible your spawn might well be able to replicate itself.”

  Asotos agreed, grinning, “That Darla creature might well carry within her the most powerful weapon known to this universe. If we can extract that demon alive, and it is able to replicate, we will have no need to make a new creation, for we will control the old.”

  Legion asked innocently, “So what must be done now?”

  Asotos leaned closer, resting an arm across Legion’s shoulder. “I have spies already informed as to my needs. They will keep track of this creature. When the opportunity arrives, we will capture her, but I will need your help.”

  Smiling, Legion nodded, considering the great reward the person capturing Darla might well receive. “Yes, yes, my brother. How may I be of service to you in this matter?”

  Asotos leaned back. “I believe it is time that justice be served. Long enough you have waited to avenge the loss and humiliation heaped upon you by the evils of Erithia and her worshipful cohorts. I offer you that opportunity.”

  Legion was puzzled. “I don’t understand. What does this Darla have to do with avenging my brothers?”

  Asotos waved him off. “Such a humble man... I know many things, having eyes and ears everywhere. You, yourself, stood upon the sordid plain that day long ago when Symeon was stolen from you by the antics of a certain woman. ‘That tramp’ was the name you addressed her by when speaking to Erithia - at least I believe it is the name you used for Darla that day. Well, now is your opportunity to avenge the loss you suffered.”

  He leaned close, whispering in Legion’s ear. “I want you to get that tramp for me, alive and in good health. Do it and I will give you that cadre of beasts you so much desire.”

  Legion nodded, the smile slowly melting from his face as distant memories began to emerge out of the fog of long-forgotten adventures. There were other words spoken that day - threats, or possibly oaths - considering the mad woman declaring them. Like a decomposing beast rising from the filth of a murky swampland, the woman’s prophecy grew in stature until it stood erect before him, rejuvenated with a renewed power of life, seething in its unchained vengeance.

  The clarity of that long ago moment filled Legion’s mind with dreaded recollection, he hearing his own voice cursing the tramp and decrying mercy’s value. Then his mind reeled, recalling Erithia’s answer.

  She shook a finger in his face. ‘That little tramp will one day haunt your dreams, stealing away your very sleep! She is my death star! Angel of madness! Her sword will rip apart the heavens. My daughter will drive your armies from the skies, burn your cities to dust, and shall tear asunder you mightiest warriors! ‘Demon of darkness’ your people will call her, they quailing at the mention of her name.”

  Legion shuddered, the dread in his mind crying out, ‘The Therioskotia does live!’

  Then other words even more ominous drifted up from long-forgotten memories, too meaningless at the time to have been noteworthy, but stirred to life this very day by Sirion. ‘It has waked! Pleasant dreams, my brother.’

  A nervous shudder suddenly ran down Legion’s back, recalling Erithia’s pronouncement. ‘Now listen and become afraid! The child you cut down today will become the dragon-slayer of your own flesh tomorrow. This monkey child will tear from your living chest your beating heart, and your head she will remove from off you, making it into a bowl for excrement and urine.’

  Legion’s face paled as he pondered how Asotos’ request to have Darla delivered to him and Erithia’s final pronouncement she declared against him were related. ‘In the day your lover request you deliver that tramp into his hand, you will know that the one you murder today has been lifted up to this world. Your sleep will flee from your eyes and you will dread the night. Her destruction will haunt your waking thoughts, but you will find no relief… only the Sword of the Whirlwind, who will extinguish your world.’

  ‘Sword of the Whirlwind? No!’ Legion nearly cried out loud. He now understood, understood all too well. Erithia was not delivering a sword, but swords! That was the meanin
g of the prophecy of Sharon and her rings his spies had spoken about. This day Erithia had revealed two swords, her new captain of the guard, Trisha, and this creature, Darla - her swords of destruction with the power of the immortal elements. Were there more? Yes, but how many, he could not guess.”

  He looked into Asotos’ waiting face, confused. With astonishment, he nearly cried out again. Why, even the leader over the league had no idea of this unstoppable storm soon to be unleashed upon them. And here Legion knew, had been cursed by Erithia to know, but dared speak not a word of it for fear he might be called a ‘traitor and purveyor of false words’, ‘an agent of the Mad Woman’. No! He must tell no one. A secret in his own heart it must remain.

  All Legion could hope to do was stem the coming storm by bringing this Darla down to nothing. Capture? Maybe, but if death raised its opportune head, he would avail himself of that tool as well.

  A weak smile crossed Legion’s lips. “Sharon’s light rises upon this world. We must all do our part to stem its might. I will do this for you. It must be done.”

  While Asotos’ eyes followed him with curiosity, Legion stood and, after gaining the attention of Colonel Shuebiddee, taking him by the hand, slowly made his way toward his stateroom, hoping some sweet interlude might chase away the goblins in his mind.