How did that woman pierce his defenses? Still, this coming night of passion was looming before him with increasing anticipation. For but a moment, the fellow wished she had clothed herself this eve in more than just her silk lace shawl…for only a moment.
Squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to regain his composure, Ardon considered why Tashi, the governor of the Trizentine, was here at this council. The reason troubled him. The Stasis, those mischievous Stasis! If the threat of Asotos reneging on the armistice pact wasn’t bad enough - an armistice pact that Ardon was most proud of, he being chief negotiator for the Children’s side – the growing boldness of the Stasis Pirates was even more disquieting.
“My Lord Ardon…” a nervous, hesitant voice broke upon Ardon’s ears. “Excuse me, my Lord…”
Ardon’s eyes popped open, dumbly staring into Bedan’s face, the man’s hand outstretched in salutation. Bedan smiled shyly. “It is such a great pleasure to meet you again. I’ve…”
Ardon blurted out, “Again?”
“Y… ye… yes, my Lord.” Bedan swallowed hard. “On Pilneser, after the Great War, I was a courier sent to deliver to you a letter of congratulations from the Council for
your heroic efforts at successfully sealing an armistice pact with our enemy. Of course, you would not remember, my Lord, but it was such a great reward for me to be…”
Ardon politely took Bedan’s hand. “Of course, I remember.” Really, he was not sure, but it was his diplomatic style. Smiling, he asked, “You’re captain of that old, I mean that boat. Let’s see, now… oh yes, Shikkeron, isn’t it?”
Bedan nodded, afraid to explain that Shikkeron was a ship, not a boat.
Releasing Bedan’s grip, Ardon nodded, “Yes, yes, some kind of a brigantine, isn’t it?
I recall it was in service during the Three Hundred Years’ War, resurrected out of the scrap yard for use in the Great War. So it still flies? Interesting… interesting…”
Nodding, Bedan added, “Was refitted some dozen years ago, into an imperial brigantine, a much heavier ship, Lord Ardon, almost up to frigate class now.”
“Good. Good,” Ardon replied. Having no desire to hear further about the matter, he changed the subject. “So, er… Captain… er, Bedan, what brings you so far from your duties? Who’s tending your boat now?”
Bedan smiled, standing straight. “She’s here, at the spaceport, I mean. Orders…
came down from the top.”
Ardon leaned forward, looking up at Bedan, squinting. “Really? And you? What are you doing here?”
Nervousness returned to Bedan’s voice. “From Mother, directly from her, she summoned me not six weeks ago. Just got here today, running full out, making smoke all the way just to get here on time.”
Ardon frowned, asking, “Why? What’s so spec…” He caught himself, asking more politely, “What does Mother want from you that requires your presence here?”
Bedan shook his head. “I don’t know, my Lord. Mother didn’t say. I thought you might know, you being so important on her council and all.”
Feeling flustered to think that Lowenah was keeping secrets from him but unwilling to reveal those facts to someone like Bedan, Ardon swept his hand in a motion that signified unimportance, replying, “The world is troubled by so many trivial matters, there is not time to discuss this at the moment. I’m sure Mother had good reason.” He looked up to see Admiral NikaoEimi enter the chambers. Wishing to dismiss Bedan without being rude, he pointed, “There’s the commander of the Second Fleet… navy, you know.
Maybe he can tell you.” Then attempting to show interest, he added, “If you find out something important, please let me know.”
Bedan bowed low, thanking Ardon for his time, and hurried over to speak with the admiral.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Ardon settled back in his chair, glad to see the admiral was now being troubled with that nuisance officer.
“Lord Ardon...”
Surprised, Ardon looked up to see Symeon’s smiling face as he approached, hand outstretched. Ardon stood, grinning, “You snuck in on me, my friend. SymeonKephim, so good to see you!”
Now here was a man in whose company Ardon felt quite at ease. Delivered here from the Second Realm, Symeon and his fellow brethren from that wild place were quite acceptable companions and conversationalists. True, they usually and willingly spent much of their time in his presence listening – something Ardon relished. They did, though, have interesting anecdotal opinions that were worth considering. And Symeon?
He so much reminded Ardon of Mihai in her younger days, so filled with excitement and that impetuous spirit, always in a hurry, so full of life.
After a warm greeting, Ardon patted Symeon’s shoulder, asking, “Has our counselor to the Lady been kept busy this day? You know, with all kinds of court business and important governmental matters?”
Symeon shook his head. “No, my Lord Ardon, Mihai has secluded herself away all day, even choosing to spend some quiet hours with a few close acquaintances for sup.
My Lady informed us - Paul, Jonathan, and me - of very little, other than we should expect the unexpected this eve, something I find so curious. She’s usually so open and direct with us.”
So, Mother was keeping many secrets this day. Ardon nodded approvingly, being informed concerning Mihai’s new kingship and Trisha’s promotion to field marshal. It made him feel good to think he was so highly trusted that Mother should reveal secrets to him, yet hid them from others. Still, he did not know everything.
“Tell me, please, Symeon, my friend,” Ardon asked, probing for added information,
“did our Lady say with whom she was to sup?”
“No.” Symeon lowered his eyes in thought, shaking his head, “When she called me earlier this eve, her voice was filled with subdued excitement. She asked me if I would be sure to arrive early at the council because she has a surprise. Then she apologized about missing her late luncheon and that plans were now made to dine with special friends. So, I’m here early, but I don’t see her or her surprise as of yet.”
Patting Symeon’s shoulder again, Ardon grinned, nodding, “Oh, I think you will like the surprise.” He winked. “It is a good one, you know, a good one.”
At that moment, Zadar entered the council chambers and, eyeing Ardon and Symeon, hurried over. Clutching Ardon in a bear hug, Zadar joyously cried, “Papa! It so good to see you after these many months!” He stood back, his hands gripping Ardon’s shoulders.
“I have heard of your adventures on Stargaton. Tell me, did the Seimieah Straits deliver up to you the hidden jewels of NiShanderiah, seeing you had deciphered her riddles when last we spoke?”
Ardon took Zadar by the upper arms, shaking his head. “No, no, my little son.
NiShanderiah was a witch extraordinaire. I fear I must wait until her return during the After Days before I will succeed in having her secrets revealed.” He stopped, staring into Zadar’s face, pride growing on his. He then complimented the boy on how he looked in his new army uniform, which led him into a timely lecture concerning what must be done to bring the Rebellion to a finish. Zadar listened intently.
It was only a few weeks after Asotos’ attempted murder of Mihai that Ardon returned from a deep-space sojourn to Palace City. There he remained with Lowenah after she discovered she was with child and long into the days after Zadar’s birth, the first and only child born in the First Realm after the Rebellion began, and one with a most profound and troubling secret shared by his mother only with Ardon. Ardon took to raising the boy up as if his own, even allowing him to journey into some of his secret lands. With Ardon’s fatherly mentoring, Zadar became filled with the desire for exploration and adventure. The two became inseparable until he...Zadar...was handed over to Gabrielle, to be brought to manhood by her loving care.
Zadar never forgot Ardon’s kindness, his devotion never diminishing for his adoptive father. Now, after all these years of war, and Ardon’s outspoken opinions that
downplayed the value of the military while encouraging more diplomacy to bring the Rebellion to a finish, Zadar - a man who had devoted his entire life to the military, believing it to be the only solution – always patiently listened to his mentor while he explained the importance of using the carrot over the stick. As he had done before, this night Ardon did not miss the opportunity to lecture his young protégé on the subject.
“Now you will see” Ardon firmly clasped Zadar’s hands while he spoke, “what you do is all fine and good, but it is such a waste, such a waste. You are so smart, savvy, I mean. You would do so well as a member of Mother’s council. I have clout, you know.
Mother would listen to me, you know. Of course, you would have to start out as my loyal adjutant… for a little while, of course, until you get the hang of things. But for you, it wouldn’t take long before your voice would be heard in the assembly. And… and, with your military experience, you have a lot to bring to the table.”
Zadar, a diplomat in his own right, thanked Ardon, nodding, “Your wisdom I shall seriously consider, Papa. The hour is coming soon when your ways will be put to the test. I hope to be there to see their outcome. Mother has hinted to me that such a thing might take place.”
Grinning, Ardon tenderly kissed Zadar on the cheek. “You make me proud, son, very proud.”
“Watch out for him, boy! He’ll make a wuss out of you, and then some!”
Ardon and Zadar turned to see a giant of a man dressed up in an admiral’s uniform gingerly approaching.
The man smiled, adding, “Make wusses of us all, right, Ardon, old fellow?”
Frowning, Ardon sputtered, “Admiral Euroaquilo, I do not appreciate such…”
Ignoring Ardon, Euroaquilo clasped Zadar’s hand, “Good to see you, my boy! Good to see you!” He stared at his uniform, commenting, “Well, well, so that’s the snazzy style of dress for the new army? You look good in it. Not as good as your navy pilot’s duds, but still mighty fine.”
Caught by surprise, and somewhat embarrassed – a rare moment for the fellow –
Zadar stuttered, “It… it… it’s…was… is a gift from Mother.” Regaining his composure, he added, “This was delivered to me upon my arrival, my being told to wear it at this evening’s council. I was told that I was to take leave of the Fourth Fleet and join with the new army commander, but wasn’t told who. Asked Mihai about it tonight at supper, but she spoke not a word concerning it.”
Ardon, put off by Euroaquilo, knowing it was done on purpose to irk the fellow, interrupted, asking, “You had dinner with Mihai?”
Euroaquilo ignored Ardon, bullying his way in with another question of his own.
“So where is that sister of yours? Heard you kept some pretty close company since the two of you arrived.” He stole a glance at Ardon, whose face was filled with surprise and trepidation. Still stealing glances at Ardon, he asked Zadar, “So, have you seen our girl, Darla, lately? I was hoping to catch up with her sometime while I was visiting.”
Before Zadar could reply, Ardon interrupted, clutching Euroaquilo’s arm, “Now see here, Admiral, there are many other, more important matters to discuss this evening than that child. There is great need of clear minds at this council. We have many other, more important matters to discuss than her!”
Euroaquilo smiled and shrugged. “Have it your way, Lord Counselor. I just wondered where I could find her.”
“Well,” Ardon harrumphed, “I suggest you search for her after this night’s events.
I’m sure you will find her slinking around one of the darkened taverns at that late hour!”
Euroaquilo stared down at Ardon, slowly shaking his head. “My, my, you are an old fuss tonight, aren’t you?” Although put off a little by Ardon’s brashness, he continued on with some lighthearted banter, catching up on the local gossip and chatting about some of the others at the council.
The admiral, EuroaquiloIllyricum, was commander of the Navy’s Third Fleet, stationed to the east of EdenEsonbar. His name’s meaning was ‘the great stormwind’, acquired because of his booming voice that matched his size. Six feet plus one-half tall and weighing sixteen stone, he made an impressive appearance wherever he went. Even Ardon, who felt little real respect for the military, was somewhat awed by this man.
And why not? Many were the stories repeated of Euroaquilo’s valor in combat.
Mihai, a close companion and ally of his, had told Ardon many tales concerning his bravery. “He tore off the castle gate, pitching it at my captor, crushing his skull and providing me with escape,” she had confessed to Ardon one day at a council meeting, then demanded he, Ardon, bestow upon Euroaquilo the Golden Medallion of Bravery –
Ardon being the purveyor of such awards – a medal the man cherished, and was found wearing this evening.
As he thought about it, Ardon puzzled aloud, “So they still call you ‘the twin’?”
referring to Mihai’s and his close relationship and how inseparable they once were.
Euroaquilo placed a giant hand on Ardon’s shoulder, shaking it, grinning, “My dear Lord Ardon, my sister is the sweetest, most wonderful person in the world.” He frowned.
“There was never found, for me, a more passionate, caring, lover in this world until…
until he ruined her with his twisted tortures and evil deceit. I have shared the battle against the demons in her mind since that day. Others fear her company, but I… I know who she really is. She and I are still one mind and heart. We are still twins by that very nature.” Looking into Ardon’s eyes, he slowly shook his head, softly sighing, “At least she got to see the morning sunrise.”
Zadar was about to ask what Euroaquilo’s words meant when laughter echoed from the entrance, across the chambers. The three looked over in time to see General PalaHar squeeze through the doorway, TereoAprupneo and PlanetesAntistrate each hugging an arm. The laughter stemmed from PalaHar’s dilemma, that of being pursued by two lovely women.
Planetes, better known as ‘Planetee’, finally leaned forward, looking past PalaHar and into Tereo’s face, her eyes twinkling. “You may have managed a coup with your pillow talk earlier, but an afternoon’s delight is more than sufficient for you two. I have forced a promise from this fellow and the afterhours belong to me.”
Tereo – ‘Terey’ – offered up another wicked laugh. “I surrender him for the moment, but remain the victor. My sweet scent shall linger in his thoughts and dreams for many long hours. You will have to force the gate just to be remembered this eve.”
The two continued their friendly sparring after passing through the door, PalaHar politely remaining silent. Finally, Euroaquilo, grinning with his own brand of mischief, called to Zadar for them to be off to mix it up even more. Zadar, always a willing accomplice to a good game, nodded and off they went, leaving Ardon alone with his thoughts.
Ardon watched while a battle of wits and winsome words filled the room, gaining in strength as more of the crowd gathered around, choosing sides and entering the contest.
He liked to see such jousting but could never understand it, especially on such serious occasions as this...but still, let them have their fun. He settled back in his chair, snuggling into its soft leather cushions.
He was just getting comfortable when another, greater commotion arose among the crowd near the door. All attention was taken off PalaHar and his companions, being given to others who still remained hidden from Ardon’s view. ‘Who could it be?’ That was everyone’s question as a flood of the curious descended the bleacher-like seating area to see who was causing the stir, filling the floor with a sea of bobbing heads facing the door.
Standing did little good, Ardon being no man of great stature. As the excitement of the others grew, so did his curiosity. He made his way forward until he was near the back of the growing crowd. This was still no good. When his polite requests for passage were ignored, he finally decided to forge ahead, slowly pushing his way into the mass of spectators in an attempt to see what was happening.
People nearest the main doors to the council chambers began to retreat, allowing whoever was approaching to gain entrance. Ardon managed a peek at the doorway just as Mihai passed through into the room and was dumbstruck by what he saw. A collective gasp arose from the gathered company – the effect Lowenah had intended. Even Ardon, although knowing about Mihai’s acceptance of a new kingship, was caught up in the moment, being mesmerized by the woman’s stunning appearance.
Mihai blushed as she sheepishly bowed, the woman never learning how to take such adoration easily. Her gold and chrysolite crown glittered with flashes of blinding diamond white, sapphire blue, ruby red, and jade green, radiating the woman’s face so that it appeared to emit its own divine glow. And the iridescence of the woman’s silken satin gown with its woven, purple lace and kingly, royal-purple flowing cape gave the impression that one the Cherubs had arrived from the outer worlds to gather with them.
For the longest time, those in the crowd as well as Ardon stood transfixed, their breathing of silent excitement being the only sound filling the chambers. Eventually, with a great deal of effort, they began to queue up to offer welcome to the new king. As with the others, Ardon found himself shuffling along to get in the receiving line so that he, too, could offer up his salutations, a decision he was quickly going to regret.
How he managed to do it, Ardon never could quite figure out, but Zadar had wiggled his way past everyone and was the first to gather Mihai’s attention. He, unlike his more reserved brethren, swooped down in a graceful bow while grasping the woman’s hand up in his. Still bowing, he looked up and into Mihai’s eyes, uttering sweet salutations and then kissed her hand. Mihai blushed again, thanking Zadar for his tender kindnesses. Zadar stood, acknowledging Mihai’s escort, demonstrating an equal affection for her, setting the precedent for everyone else to follow.
It was when Zadar turned his attention away from Mihai that Ardon noticed the woman’s companion. His face paled as he groaned silently within. ‘That woman! Why her? Why tonight? What deviltry has delivered her to our doorstep this eve? And why was she placed as the king’s escort on this important night?’ And worse, he wondered why the Fates had delivered him to such a dangerous place at this moment. There was no
escape, not so close to the front of the receiving line. He must suffer and endure whatever indignities were to be heaped upon him, hoping only for indignities.
One after another, Mihai passed along the line, the men courteously following along in Zadar’s stead, the women bending in a curtsy and then tenderly kissing Mihai on the lips. This was followed by offering the same salutation to Mihai’s escort, one RachelOchranNohah, an acquired name, RachelOchlah, meaning ‘little charming ewe’, being her birth name. She preferred to be called ‘DarlaUmehahAstrni’ or ‘Darla’, never offering a reason why. Few outside the military ranks knew this woman, and those who did cared little to be in her close company. For many of them, it was disconcerting to see her here…and with Mihai. This formal recognition of Darla was often little more than protocol. Still, there were some in the crowd whose love and care for this girl were real and genuine.
After PalaHar’s greeting, Mihai reached out, hugging the man. Before standing back, she kissed him tenderly on the lips, smiling, “My Lord PalaHar, it is so good to see you.” She lowered her voice. “The world grows dark, my Lord, and I see little light to guide my path. It is such a pleasure to know that Mother’s torch-bearer is with us tonight.”
After some small chitchat, PalaHar turned his attention to Darla. Following his formal welcoming, he leaned forward, kissing her in the way Mihai had done with him.
He then drew Darla close in a hug, whispering quietly in her ear as he did, “Child, your journey has yet to begin. The night will become black with evil madness before the sun shall shine upon us again. You… you, my dear little one, must become the star that leads us through that wicked hour. Your valor shall prove to become our rallying cry, our deliverance.”
To say that Darla was confused would be a great understatement. She stood back, searching PalaHar’s eyes for answers. There were none found. Hesitantly, she thanked him for his kindness, wishing him success in his many endeavors. Then, releasing his hand, she took Mihai’s, leading her to the next anxious greeter standing in line.
Ardon waited, uneasy, nervous anticipation growing with each of Mihai’s advancing steps. Darla, being busy in her attempt to act appropriately as Mihai’s appointed escort, paid little attention to those in line, she being so focused on the moment, and did not even notice Ardon until she turned to introduce the new king. Her smile melted away upon recognizing him, quickly replaced by an angry frown and piercing stare filled with malice and hatred. The room went dead silent.
The man froze, not daring to move or speak, watching Darla’s fingers involuntarily constricting into tortured fists, only to open and then close again. Hair suddenly went up on the back of his neck, his ears picking up a growing insect-like staccato rising up from deep within the woman’s throat - the last sound heard by so many of her adversaries.
Mihai, fearing the worst should time delay the coming moment, awkwardly stepped forward and in front of Darla, posturing, “My dear Lord Ardon!” She faked an innocent smile, the scent of a growing tempest flaring her nostrils. “My dear Lord Ardon, how is my lord doing tonight? It is such a pleasure to be graced by your company, your wise insight at this eve’s council being deeply appreciated.”
“My Lady, I…I am doing splendidly,” Ardon stammered, nervously glancing toward Darla, sighing in relief at seeing her forced composure. “And you… you do look so beautiful this night. May I offer to you whatever services I have available to me?”
Mihai thanked him, pressing his hands with hers while placing a gentle kiss on his lips, adding, “The day may well come when I call out to you for them.”
Mihai’s interruption had gathered its magic to the moment and saved Ardon from a dangerous, possibly life-threatening encounter. Darla had fought down her madness, regaining quiet restraint.
Just how Mihai and certain others tolerated this creature was beyond him. This was not the first time he had witnessed it nor, he feared, would it be the last. As Mihai continued on with her pleasantries, his mind flashed back to the time when he had foiled Asotos’ second attempted attack on Mihai, occurring some years after Asotos’ first.
There he was, consoling Mother, he leaning over her, they hugging each other, lost in cries and wails of lament, when little eight-year-old Darla entered the room. In a vicious, blind rage, the girl screeched and lunged forward, tearing and biting at the monster attacking her mother. It took weeks for his wounds to heal and many more for the scars to go away. It pained him, even now, just recalling that attack. Although that event was almost six millennia ago, it appeared to Ardon that Darla never forgot, her hatred for him only growing until, again, after the Great War he had been confronted by her, only to be saved that time by Euroaquilo. The girl was a menace and a danger! Why Mother put up with her was beyond his understanding, and why she had been invited here, on this night, was an even greater mystery.
Mihai backed away, making room for Darla to step forward and receive her official salutations from Ardon. She, though, did not move, her icy stare boring into the man.
For his part, Ardon politely bowed, acknowledging Mihai’s escort. “My Lady, may all be well with you.”
Darla remained motionless, glaring at Ardon. Mihai finally gave Darla a nudge with her arm, whispering, “Mother will be most displeased to see her favorite daughter acting so rudely. Do your part. Or is it shame you also want to deliver upon me?”
Moved by Mihai’s scolding, Darla stepped forward, arms stiff at her sides. She bowed ever so slightly and in a most formal way replied, “Your Counsel…good evening.” She turned away, not even looking Ardon in the face, stepped behind and around Mihai and tugged on her elbow to go.
Mihai looked apologetically at Ardon, addressing him as ‘Lord’ and wishing him well. She then excused herself, following Darla’s direction, and advanced on to the next person. Soon the room was again filled with the quiet chatter of private conversations while Mihai and her escort continued to receive the long line of well-wishers.
As soon as they had distanced themselves from him, Ardon slipped from the crowd and retraced his steps to the quiet, safe world of his perch. From there he pondered the life and history of this madwoman who was so bent on his destruction. Lowenah had shared it with him, oft repeating it through the years, but still he was more troubled by the way she fussed over the girl than for the reasons why.
He had heard it all, and not just from Mother. Unlike the other children, Darla had no pleasant memories to cling to. Her world was torn apart while she was but a babe, when Lowenah permitted the child to nurse at Mihai’s breasts while she convalesced after Asotos’ attack. Mother found it so therapeutic for her daughter that later, after Zadar was born, she offered the job of wet-nursing him to Mihai also. Until the age of eight, Mihai acted as mother and nursemaid to little Darla. All the while, the child’s increasing nightmares and panic-filled fainting spells were largely ignored, Lowenah
believing the girl had suffered a great emotional shock because she had been nursing Darla when Asotos attacked Mihai, she falling to the floor, Darla crashing headlong into it after being dropped by her. Lowenah had repaired the physical damage and believed the child would eventually outgrow the emotional trauma.
Indeed, it may well have been Ardon’s entry onto the scene that saved Darla from going hopelessly insane. Much to Lowenah’s dismay, when she discovered demons growing in the girl’s mind, it was too late to cure her. But at least they could be suppressed –for a while, anyway – until a cure might be found. Yes, Darla had been thrown onto the altar of fire and blood from the dawn of her memories. Violence and terror were her earliest companions. Only long after her gaining adulthood had others come to truly fathom the evil buried within her mind…fathom, but not understand.
So why did Mother allow her most dangerous child the freedom she did? Ardon puzzled. True, the child needed love and attention, something Lowenah and Mihai always showered on her. She drew so close to Mihai that the girl refused to leave her bed until the growing sensual emotions that were waking within her forced Mother to make other arrangements. It was understandable that she acted in such a way. She had no companions who willingly shared their lives with her.
Ardon remembered well, he living at the Palace for many years after his return. Oh yes, there were still the parties and gatherings, fewer and less attended, but visitors there were aplenty. Zadar was always the center of attention while Darla would often stand silently in the corner or slink off into the shadows to seek solace with imaginary friends.
Euroaquilo’s willingness to take Darla under his wing and provide loving companionship not only eased the girl’s heart, but also introduced her to the realities of war. Here, Ardon believed, was where Darla’s madness worked to her advantage, and he wished she would remain there until her cure was accomplished.
Ardon did not hate Darla. He was ridden by a deep inner sadness concerning her.
Still, one was to consider the welfare of the people over one person no matter the cost to that being. At least that was how Ardon viewed matters.
And then there was Zadar, the youngest of all the children. Darla loved him from the start, acting as much his protector as she did for Lowenah. And Zadar? As he grew in stature and manhood, his devotion deepened for his sister to the point of what some came to view as worship of her. To this day, it was wisdom to not criticize her while in Zadar’s presence.
And the things Mother allowed Darla and her other children to get away with bothered Ardon so. The last time he was almost attacked by Darla, the last time she had spoken to him some forty years before, the woman had been in a drunken stupor. At least tonight he had smelled no strong drink on her like he had Planetee.
Why Mother put so much trust in Planetee, he did not know. True, she was an Ancient, but there were limits and responsibilities. More than once he had witnessed that woman crawling up the palace steps, reeking with the stink of strong wine and vomit.
Never once had Mother turned her away, much to Ardon’s disgust. Planetee was one of Mihai’s closest counselors and confederates in war. He feared so often for Mihai’s wellbeing because of her. Still, Planetee was a force to be reckoned with, and he felt he was not up to that task. He turned his attention back to Darla.
It was true that Darla lived in a world of satanic madness and pain that was not of her making. And it was true that Ardon’s unkempt appearance and long, disheveled hair
caused some of Darla’s actions. Still, the woman should be watched more closely, especially in a gathering like this. Who knew if the serious matters discussed this night might not bring out the monster in her anew? He must remain alert to the possibility . He must act as the peoples’ protector, if no one else would.
At that moment, a fellow counselor called to him. He stood, smiling, and extending a hand, sauntered over to the man.
* * *
“So! This is the world of angels and fools, the blowhards of government and policy making!” The eyes hidden in the shadowy confines of secreted corners of the council chambers studied the many faces in the gathering crowd. Scorn filled the whispering lips of the person behind those eyes, disdain for people of pompous society and highbrow pedigree evident in the creature’s bitter frown. Visions of days long ago flooded this person’s mind, filling it with sights of torn and bloodied bodies of the dead and dying, all the while hearing grandiose chatter of an amused audience concerning itself with the glory of the kill or bravery of the defeated.
Turning its attention back to matters at hand, the creature muttered under its breath,
“And who, this good eve, is next to find my blade? And yet, it is not for the cheering crowd I deal death out by choice, but for the voices within that still cry out for the sport.
‘A clean kill tonight! Show your skill and cunning, and allow it no second breath!
Cleave it to the kidneys, yet let it live long enough to smell your sweet joy in its capture unto death’.”
Shaking off the intoxicating vision, the creature sputtered, “It is for the safety of the king and its council. Indeed, the world I shall save tonight! Is the death of one not a fair price to save so many?”
And there was another hiding behind secret doors, waiting for someone’s message or directions. But the spy was not secret to all, nor would that one survive long enough to receive a ‘well done’ from its awaiting master. Now to wait…to wait and see who shall deliver the treasonous note to the contemptible thief.
Sucking in a breath as though sniffing the breeze, wary eyes examined the crowd as nostrils flared in disquiet. “Too many are the foul odors of mischief and evil in this room tonight! Have all the worlds’ vultures gathered here to me, or does the wind itself offer up its putrid scent to offend my thoughts? And yet another I smell whose presence I do not yet discern, but like the Kriggerman on the prowl, it comes ever closer. Its very breath hastens the death of us all.”
Quietly, the creature slunk further back into the shadows like a panther waiting its prey.
“Come with me.” Mihai was emotionally exhausted as she tugged on Darla’s sleeve, pulling her toward stairs that led high into the upper bleachers. “I need a rest from these well-wishers.” She turned her head to look down at the gathering crowd as the two ascended the steps. “We’ll take a little breather up here.”
“Whew!” Mihai sighed relief, nudging Darla, pointing down toward the main floor.
“There, right there, you see where PalaHar and Terey are standing? A trap door in the
floor under them allows a person to be lowered out of sight. Well, not just people, but stage props and things like that.”
Darla sat up, asking, “Like what? Why would a council chamber have a trap door for props?”
“Oh,” Mihai smiled, “this wasn’t always a council chamber. Really, it has been that for less than your lifetime. This was the Palace Grand, Mother’s private theater before the Rebellion, that is. The entire floor was…is the stage, the far wall a backdrop for the plays’ settings. Two and three dimensional holographic scenes would accent the storyline and acting, creating an illusion for the audience, making everything so real.”
She rested a hand on Darla’s knee. “There are a vast number of storage rooms and passageways under these bleachers and the many landings scattered about within the seating area. Then there’s the wide upper landing above and behind us that circles around in a horseshoe formation nearly to the far wall. All of those things were originally constructed for the actors’ use, to bring the plays more to life. Oftentimes the people in the audience would become part of the play itself. Oh, it was so much fun.”
Then pointing down at the spot earlier mentioned, she added, “I came up through that trap door. I was a flower, blossoming in spring, and I sang a little song after the hidden elevator had lifted up to the stage.” Mihai nodded dreamily, “I was only eight years old and, as I remember, the center of attention, receiving accolades for such a splendid performance.” Her face clouded. “That was so long ago now, back in the days of endless peace.”
Just then, Governess Anna entered the main doorway, accompanied by two other court officials. Mihai pointed, “See that door? Only the actors came in the way that overlooks the Winter Gardens. The audience always entered from up there, behind us.”
She waved her hand in the direction of the upper deck and beyond where a set of double entrance doors was now sealed closed. “We would come down these steps. They were lighted, of course, because the chamber was usually hidden in blackness, awaiting the play. Then we would shuffle our way along the different rows of seating. When the lights came up, oh, what a thrill! You would never know what sights awaited anxious eyes.”
Darla studied the surroundings, fitting Mihai’s tales into what she was seeing. “A person must have been pretty special to get an invite here. There’s only seating for about three hundred or so. You must have been pretty special to come here so often. I’ve only been here once before, and that only on business, like tonight.”
Mihai squeezed Darla’s arm. “No one ever comes here anymore unless it is on business. And yes, I was special, just like every other young child of Mother’s. This is where she showed them off to their older siblings. She made them feel special. I’m sorry that those days were gone before you had your hour of magic here. I…”
Darla sourly interrupted, “I’m made to feel special all right. Every chance they get, someone makes me feel special!”
Mihai took Darla’s hand and looked into her face, her voice gentle but chastising.
“There is reason why you have been gifted with the name ‘RachelOchranNohah’, ‘the ewe that makes trouble her resting place’.”
Darla stiffened, peering into Mihai’s eyes. At length, after seeing no malice, she answered, “Old fools sit on old councils dreaming old dreams! They care not for understanding or insight. They pine wistfully for the past and torture any who do not
understand such useless dreams. I have been gifted that name by the very fools who do not wish to forget the past nor remember the deeds of today’s heroes.”
Mihai replied, “Be that as it may, your actions here this eve were out of line, supporting the argument that you have been gifted the name you rightfully deserve.”
“What’d I do?!” Darla exclaimed.
Scolding, Mihai answered, “You know full well what you did. This night you were my consort, a lady of this court. It was…is your responsibility to act the part, even if you don’t want to. What you did was rude and uncalled for. Ardon is a great counselor in Mother’s court. He is well-respected and deserves to be treated that way.”
Darla sputtered a nasty retort. “Big bag o’ shit…!” She chanced to see a scowl cross Mihai’s face. “Wind…I mean wind. Big words with little meanings that drizzle in a piss pot they are. Chief of the War Honors Council? He wouldn’t know a hero if it bit him on the ass! I didn’t want to waste pleasantries on a fool who would have no real appreciation for them.”
She looked down, folding her hands in her lap. “His kind are what ruined this…
your world, too blind and unbending, unwilling to see the demons in the hearts of men.
And after they were seen, too stupid to act effectively and bring matters to a rapid finish.
His kind waited until my kind took to the field and watched as my kindred were slaughtered while protecting those sorry fools. Then, when the body count was delivered up to them, his kind cried, ‘What?! You ask that we should also honor your dead for deeds well done? There is no honor in dying. It is the living, the judicious, the wise, who deserve the honor, for they protect the people through councils great and small’.”
Mihai’s retort was sharp but tempered. “Rachel, you call down evil on our mother by those words for she, too, fell into such treacherous reasonings! Are you also bitter of soul with her? How could that be? I know of your unquestioned love for her.”
Darla stared into her lap, saying not a word.
Mihai thought a moment, asking, “What did Ardon ever do to you?”
Darla shot a glance at Mihai, hatred burning in her eyes. “Old fool!” then again stared back down into her lap.
Taken aback, Mihai pondered the reason for Darla’s outburst. After thoughtfully considering the matter, she leaned over and wrapped her arm around her little sister’s shoulder, drawing her close and speaking softly in the girl’s ear. “Today my demons tried to invade my waking hours. They are strong and growing in power by the hour. Do you not also feel their anger, their rage because of being trapped in a mind so filled with love for Mother?”
Darla did not look up or move. No word came from her mouth.
Mihai quietly pleaded, “At least admit to their presence. Admit that you, too, are infected with the Devil’s spawn as I am. Do not deny that they also live in you. At least admit it to yourself.”
A thunderous voice shattered the moment as Mihai and Darla looked up to see Euroaquilo stepping over the row of seats directly behind them. “How are my precious children tonight, especially my one and my own?” Before either could move, he had swooped down and gathered them both up in a giant, loving bear hug.
Like the sun breaking out from behind a thundercloud, Darla’s face lit up radiantly.
She squealed with delight, stood, flung her arms around Euroaquilo and cried, “I have yearned so for the hour to wrap myself up in your love. My coverlets I have already
pulled from the bed in anticipation of your visit. Hurry, my heart is passionate for your manliness. Let’s leave these important fellows to their important business and be off to make some important business of our own.”
The shock of the moment quickly disappeared from Euroaquilo’s face. He grinned, leaning down and kissing Darla on the forehead, exclaiming, “My little doe has missed me so? Am I the only stag in the woods?” He shook his head. “I cannot believe you have hidden yourself away waiting only for me, though it does impress me to think I am so highly sought after...”
Darla nuzzled her head in his chest. “There is no other like you. My dreams are your playrooms. You make my heart sing with passion and delight.”
Mihai took Euroaquilo’s hand, her eyes searching his, telling him tales of her concerns and the relief of having him there. A sad smile grew on her face. “Lord Euroaquilo…”
Euroaquilo tipped his head down and kissed Darla on her upraised lips. “Dear little one, I am your willing servant, but business first. You know my motto, ‘the prison of dreary work only heightens the heart’s passion for release.’ So let us be off with dreary work so we can ride the wind of heart’s passion with abandon.” Allowing no time for reply, he asked so politely, “May I make company with my two beautiful sisters tonight?”
A giggle rolled from Darla’s lips as she leaned up and kissed Euroaquilo again before dragging him down beside her. In seconds, both she and Mihai were snuggled up close to their companion, Darla on his right and Mihai on his left, the man’s arms around them both.
Darla buried her face in Euroaquilo’s chest, rolling her head back and forth like some puppy nuzzling its master. After a moment she stopped, looked up at his face, a mischievous satisfaction beaming on hers. For several seconds she searched his eyes, her own deep contentment at this moment reflected in hers. Then, with a sigh, the woman became a child again, resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes while listening to the rhythmic ‘ thump, thump, thump’ of the man’s beating heart.
In a hushed tone of mock pity, Mihai lamented to Euroaquilo, “I feel you will not be freed from her from company now. No… No… The Fates have surrendered you up to the child. It’s now inevitable. She will not release you until the morning sun burns brightly over the eastern hills, if then.”
Euroaquilo rubbed his cheek on Darla’s head, stroking her hair with a giant, calloused, hand. “Tsk. Tsk. Oh, a fate worse than death! What is a poor fellow like me supposed to do?”
Darla peered up and into Euroaquilo’s face, mumbling about some earlier romantic interlude or other and just how tortured he had acted. She snuggled closer, wrapping an arm around his middle and quietly dozed off.
With gentle strokes, Euroaquilo tickled Darla’s back, listening for the slow, rhythmic breathing that told him his charge was resting peacefully. He had always been amazed at Darla’s ability to sleep almost anywhere at any time, and yet her senses always remained alert. He had watched her as a fighter pilot during one of the earlier wars, how as she waited for her ship to be refueled and rearmed, she would crumple up in a corner of the hangar deck, falling soundly asleep, only to jump back to her feet the second her ears heard the click of the fuel lines being disconnected. He slowly shook his head, marveling.
Watching attendants far below preparing the evening’s events, as early arriving counselors sought out favorite places at ornately carved mahogany tables, sitting back in highly decorated wood and leather chairs, Euroaquilo could not stop thinking about who this woman he held really was and just how savagely the Fates had abused her, asking himself if he was any better.
His mind wandered back to the days following Asotos’ open rebellion, and how he regularly attended upon Mihai during her convalescing years. Darla had taken a fancy to him, and he to her. Few men dared to stand the child’s attention for long, her queer gaze being most disturbing to them. It was like something or someone stared out from behind Darla’s opaque, pixie-like orbs, always studying them, searching...ever searching. And the child was strange in other ways, too, quirky and elusive, always abstract in speech that was filled with troubling and dark riddles. For some unknown reason, Euroaquilo found himself drawn to the child, but it was more, possibly, out of curiosity than care or concern for her welfare.
Euroaquilo guessed it was for that reason he ignored or rather showed little consideration for the girl’s desires or needs. When her coming of age came and went, Euroaquilo gave it little thought, paying no heed to the many flirtatious advances Darla made upon him. Unlike the custom bestowed upon every other daughter of Lowenah’s, the girl found no man to take her to celebrate her virgin year, which traditionally began in the girl’s twelfth year and lasted into her twentieth. No, Darla languished in silent lament until her late thirties before Mother, through shaming persuasion, convinced him to take the girl for his own - a truth he had ever held secret from the girl, fearing his later affectionate, real love would be thrown in doubt should she discover the truth.
Yes, in time Euroaquilo did fall deeply in love with Darla, and she with him.
Eventually he managed to wean the girl away from Mother and the palace, she being Mother’s most fearsome defender. That obsessive protectiveness for her mother carried over into her relationship with him and, later, her fellow comrades at arms. He well remembered how she fought in battle in those early years, a wild rage beyond all reason consuming her, especially if she was defending dear to her.
And then there were rumors of her escape from the Stasis Pirates. She and a few others managed to free themselves from their captors. Making their way along a stony gulch, they came upon a Stasis encampment, a rendezvous for several Stasis chieftains who were preparing for winter raids upon the local colonies. It was told that Darla went mad, a staccato insect noise growing in her throat that turned into a screeching howl after she crushed a sentinel’s skull.
Instead of cowering in fright or seeking escape, Darla and a few fellow former prisoners stormed the crowded encampment, the Stasis scattering like leaves in a gale.
Charging with the sentinel’s pike, she rushed the camp and, in the gathering darkness, contributed to the slaughter of over eighty of her former captors, the remainder fleeing into the hills or escaping in their ships. Along with those survivors went the name of a new god that haunted the dark passages of their worlds. ‘Therioskotia’, the immortal god of war, had become part of the lore that even affected some of Asotos’ own army, its reputation flooding the hearts and minds of many a weary enemy soldier on a dark, moonless battlefield.
Euroaquilo’s mind drifted on to more pleasant memories, his hand stroking Darla’s hair as he reminisced over the few carefree moments the two had shared during the girl’s
lifetime. Soon the droning chatter from the crowd below and the heated air in the upper bleachers made his eyelids grow heavy. His head slowly dropped as he started to doze.
“My Aquilo...” Mihai whispered as she nudged Euroaquilo in the side.
Euroaquilo’s eyes popped open with surprise. Turning his head, his look of surprise turned to concern at seeing the troubling disquiet on Mihai’s face. “What is it, sister of my youth? Why does your face carry such a sad shadow on this most joyous of evenings?”
Mihai attempted a weak smile. “Oh, sweet brother of mine, to have your merry heart I would surrender all that is, was and will belong to me, but alas, Fate does not bargain for baubles of hope. Listen, please. I have heard reports that do not portend well for us, rumors filled with dark foreboding. I see that you have been summoned away from your fleet at a critical hour along with other officers of high rank who should be standing their post instead of bantering with old comrades in formal attire. And look, the council chambers are filled with our wisest of counselors, some who have traveled for weeks to attend this meeting.”
She shook her head. “No! There is more than meets the eye about this gathering, more than just formalities concerning another prisoner exchange. The Children of the Darkness are being raised to glory and even now stand ready to bring to a finish what our kind have but dreamed of doing, and in a way that chills my heart. And look,” she pointed below, “Mother hides somewhere in the shadows. Have you ever seen her do such a thing before? Is not her face the first one to greet you at the door?” Resting a trembling hand on Euroaquilo’s knee, she asked pleadingly, “Tell me, oh brother of mine, do I hide from shadows of fantasy like a child who runs in terror from a sleeping adder, or does evil exist beyond my sight? Please, if you have knowledge, does our world have reason to fear? Can you explain it to me?”
Euroaquilo did not know about the new military arrangements and had scant understanding concerning Mihai’s newly acquired kingship, but he was very wise and insightful regarding current and past events when it came to military matters. He stared into Mihai’s face, surprised by her question. Seeing how troubled she looked, he ventured a reply.
Answering in little more than a whisper, he began, “All things hang by a thread.
This you should already know even better than me, you being field marshal, god over the armies of this Empire.”
Mihai lowered her eyes, hiding secrets and her own nagging doubts about coming revelations.
Euroaquilo gave Mihai a reassuring squeeze. “My MihaiAstron, ‘Dawn of the Morning’, ‘the Morning Star’, did I not bestow those titles upon your name those many years ago when you and I stood over the plains of Megiddo, gazing down upon the bloodied Bantoowazzi River after gaining our victory? Did I not hold you, telling you that hope always comes upon a morning light and that you were the morning light for all the universe? You believed me that day. Do you still believe me now when I tell you the same thing?”
Mihai did not lift her eyes to look into his, but she did nod in agreement.
“Good!” Euroaquilo smiled. “Then, as I give my insight, filled with gloom and despair, remember I do not speak without assured hope. Little sister, our kind has lived through endless ages of peace. Our hearts do not...cannot adjust to this new age of
endless violence. We continue to seek what is no longer ours, an elusive dream that is never ours to regain. There is our weakness and yet our strength, for unlike those who surrendered to the new ways of evil violence, who gave their hearts and minds up to the Black Vengeance by abandoning the heart of our mother, our kind hold true to a hope that returns life to this world. But it is not the life that you and I once enjoyed.”
Darla stirred, sighing ever so quietly. Euroaquilo knew that the child was awake and listening, but chose not to exclude her from this conversation. Mihai had asked her question in the woman’s presence and thus must accept his answer would also fall upon her ears. He held Darla closer, a chill sweeping across his shoulders. “As the hearts of our enemy continue to degenerate, their hatred for all that is good ever grows. At first we did not notice, feeling that for most it was only a great misunderstanding and that they would soon return to their senses. Do I any longer believe this to be really so? For some… maybe. I do ever wish it to be so, but I do not believe it is true for the many.”
He looked down at Darla, who was now resting her head in his lap, her breathing betraying the truth, telling him that she was hanging upon his every word. ‘Very well...’
He went on. “My darling here...Rachel, or as I have called her now these many years,
‘Darla’, is a product of this new and terrible age. Her mind has been twisted and tormented nearly to the breaking point but, unlike our adversaries, her soul has not fallen into the abyss of evil nothingness. Her spirit remains alive within her. The reason, I believe, is the depth of real love the child has for us, our mother and us…all of us. And that includes Ardon.”
Euroaquilo could feel Darla’s muscles tense up, but she refused to make reply, pretending to remain asleep, wishing to hear more of what he had to say. He smiled again. “Have you watched our child in battle? She is not like us, you and me. There exists no more fear-inspiring creature upon the field than this woman! She fights with abandon, a madness more like the demon enemy than anyone sane. Her ruthlessness is tempered with kindness in the sense that she chooses only death and not torture for her enemy. She, herself, becomes a demon - a white demon - while on the horrid field. Have you ever wondered why?”
Answering without waiting for a reply, Euroaquilo explained, “My child is consumed with a burning hatred that is so intense, she can feel no other thing when that fever is upon her. That voice, the one from deep in her throat? It is the waking demon seeking release to wreak vengeance upon those it believes have hurt the people Darla loves. It is a madness that consumes this child, a madness controlled by sheer willpower but unleashed upon the field of honor. I shall speak no more of that monster this hour. It is a story for another day. I remind you of it for reason of explanation.”
Mihai shuddered with disquieting thoughts, but remained silent, wanting to hear more.
“Our enemies - those who were once our brothers - are consumed by a similar madness but arising out of a hatred for all things good. They have no kindness within themselves; they have no hearts or souls. Their anger is based upon selfish desires and thoughts. Their own degeneration is charged against Mother and those who protect her name. They maim and torture for pleasure and revenge, feeling that it is little repayment for the evil acts done to them.”
Euroaquilo shook his head sadly. “We…we, the enlightened and proud...proud because we believe in a higher order of rule and honor...we do not seek to understand
what our enemy has become. We continue to trust in this…this Council and others like it, believing we can negotiate with a rabid dog. Our enemy believes in such councils, too, because it buys him time to gain our destruction. Yes, our destruction, not our surrender...”
“My Dear One, the Great War was an outstanding victory for us, but it is this greatest of victories that dooms us to failure, has doomed us. Everything our people have sacrificed for, to bring an end to the evil wickedness and cleanse our world of Asotos and his servants, has been brought to naught because of what that war did to us.”
Mihai tried to argue that Euroaquilo was mistaken. He shook his head. “No, I am not mistaken! We won that war by armistice, a negotiated victory with both sides choosing how to divide the spoils. Why, we even allowed Legion to remain in Memphis, allowed him to keep the remains of our fallen comrades who perished in front of the walls of the city. Who were the fools that sold the produce to keep an empty storehouse?
That was all that Asotos permitted us to keep - an empty territory gutted of soul and spirit called the ‘Children’s Empire’. He walked away with all the gold and the real victory.”
Mihai was stung, she having been on the council that decided the fate of that war.
The woman refuted Euroaquilo’s statement. “We did what was best for our people.
They needed rest. That war had been too costly and our people were worn out and…
and… the final hour had not yet come. We needed our energy saved for that day.”
Euroaquilo countered Mihai’s excuses. “By the very Book of Books, the one held sacred by all living souls, it was our hour to drive Asotos and his horde from this realm.
You were at our head, our god of war, the warrior king of prophecy. You need have only driven the fool one more time! He was near the breaking point. Your commanders informed you of that, but you chose to listen to the wisdom of the counselors, the ones who had not lifted up a blade in combat or suffered the blows of battle.
“My sister, you know how deeply I love you. I am your obedient servant. Even now, I will follow you to death and beyond if you should only ask me. I hold no grievance against you or any other man or woman, but I speak the truth as I see it. You asked that of me.”
Mihai nodded, eyes closed, “Yes, I did, but must you make it so painful? I did my best. We did our best. I saw no other way through it. My people needed a break from the slaughter, death, dying, the pain - the terrible, ugly agony of it all.”
“Your people? Your people?!” Euroaquilo sadly shook his head. “We are not your people, never have been and never will be. We are a free people. We will live free or die free . We follow you because we love you...and our mother, who has sacrificed everything for us, her children. Yet, remember this: should you choose to abandon the field...my people...we will find another leader who will either finish for us what has been started or shall perish in destruction attempting to bring this Rebellion to a finish!
”My fleet stood ready that day, that day you ordered us to stand down. Our tears were many for in that very hour we could smell sweet victory. One more blow, one more punch, and we would have forced his hand. His power was gone, sacrificed on the fields of Memphis. The flower of his army lay slain, their blood mixing with that of our defeated brothers who had really won the contest. The universe was ours for the taking.
The Great Satan was within our grasp and he knew it.”
Mihai’s tears began to fall. “I am sorry. I did the best I could. I am no warrior.”
Euroaquilo lifted his arm from Darla and with his fingers, wiped away Mihai’s tears and spoke consolingly. “It is your greatest strength that is also your most vicious enemy.
Love, my dear sister, love is a two-edged sword. One must come to understand it or it will devour the things one craves to save. For me, I would rather die forever because your love has caused my demise than to live eternally without it.” He sighed, “Be that as it may, we must now face the present and future, the past being only an object lesson to gain added insight from.
“Our enemy suffered no such trauma as you believe our people have or, if they did, Asotos gave them no time for rest to consider it. All these years since the armistice have been busy ones for the League of Brothers. Their forge hammers have not slowed. Day and night, the people ever slave at rebuilding their world. War machines great and fearsome, they produce without number. New and powerful are the ships they are gathering to extinguish our empire. Every able-bodied man and woman stands in the ranks, waiting upon Asotos’ orders, conscripted by him to bring us our own day of infamy. The army is beyond the size of any yet seen in the realms above or those beneath. And when the moment is right, it will strike.” Euroaquilo closed his eyes, seeing in vision that impending future. “And we are not ready for it….”
Confused and frightened, Mihai shook her head in reply, “This cannot be! Mother has not spoken of this. Her faith is still strong in her children. My people are willing to suffer and die for this cause! They must be ready!”
“You misunderstand, my lovely one,” Euroaquilo explained. “Our brothers are willing to die for this cause, but too many are not willing to live for it, do whatever it takes...costs to see it through. Deep inside they desire the impossible to take place, to see the Rebellion end with everyone going back to the old ways, the return of old lovers, for everyone to kiss and make up. They know it cannot be that way, but they dream it. And that, my dear sister, makes them weak.”
He looked toward the ceiling. “Our dreams must die and, when they do, we will lose them forever. Yet, there is no alternative other…” He paused, not wishing to finish.
“Speak, brother of mine.” Mihai egged him on. “Speak and keep no secrets. Other than what?”
“Other we suffer the destruction of all living things.” He looked into Mihai’s face.
“Mother knows this is so, oh so true. You are not the only one she reveals secrets to.”
He looked down upon the increasing crowd, lamenting, “The day will soon be upon us when meetings like this one shall be something of the past. Councils waste time and that is the one thing we are running out of… have run out of.” He rested a hand on Darla’s shoulder. “To survive the coming hour, we must all become like this child of the New Age. We must all become mad…mad for war, for violence, for destruction…mad for the sake of being madmen. We have failed to become mad. Mother has called this council. My belief is she intends to do something to correct that.”
Euroaquilo closed his eyes again and spoke troubled secrets. “Look, I have seen in my dreaming hours a beast, hideous and powerful, tearing and destroying all things in its path. It cries out to the night in a strange tongue, the tongue of Earthling men from forgotten ages past. It calls out for war, the kind of which we, our kind, have never seen.
Yet it stands upon the shores of Righteousness, bringing life to the dying and hope to those in despair. The flame of God is in its sword and the beacon of future hope shines forth from its shield.”
Mihai rested her head on Euroaquilo’s shoulder. She wanted to scream out to the sky for it to fall down upon her and consume her in its pity for the fool. Her brother’s words were true, more so than he knew. This night would prove them to be so. She shuddered. The age of innocence was passed, never to return. It sickened her to think about what it really meant, yet had she not caused it, wished it to be? The monster lived.
It would bring to a finish what she could not. It would make Ma-we’s children into what she refused to...monsters, murderers of all the old ways.
She closed her eyes. In her mind, the world burned. All of their works, their culture, their dreams, their hopes, burned to ashes. Mihai began to feel the pity of a mother watching her children suffer torment and pain. She then looked to Darla, the child of the new and dark age. What had the girl thought concerning Euroaquilo’s tirade? Opening her eyes and turning to ask the woman, Mihai was caught up in surprise. There Darla, lying on Euroaquilo’s lap, a smile on her face, was fast asleep.
Mihai rested her head on Euroaquilo for some time, watching the people and pondering what future fates awaited them. A large crowd was now gathered - dignitaries, counselors and officers of high rank, most of the great leaders of the Empire. She was beginning to comprehend just how important this meeting was when a stir arose among some of those standing by the door. Mihai craned her neck to see what the commotion was about.
The crowd suddenly stepped back, parting as if an invisible hand had gently pushed them aside. A restless sea of hushed whispers followed as the curious crowded forward to see what was causing the excitement. Then came a sudden, collective gasp of surprise follow by deathly silence. All eyes were fixed on the doorway. Lowenah peered out from a shadowy corner, smiling, ‘My darlings will not doze off this night. Too many questions...’ she laughed, ‘Too many questions…’
The object of everyone’s excitement quietly stepped into the room, a woman, ordinary in stature, beautiful in appearance, other than save her officer’s uniform and, of itself, quite ordinary, too, in most ways. Her fully buttoned, doubled-breasted jacket was light gray with modest amounts of gold braid on the sleeves and lapels, the collar of a red silk blouse just visible about her neck. Natty trousers with a gold stripe along each leg covered high-top, black officer’s boots. A gray kepi with a large black bill, pulled low over the woman’s forehead, finished her attire.
How plainly this stranger was dressed, not at all in the fashion of the women of this realm. No jewelry, makeup, or painted lips, something most unexpected for such a royal occasion. And other than the light scent of lilac, a reminder of a recent bath, she wore no perfume. Even her long, curly, brunette tresses were hurriedly gathered together and hung loosely down her back. Indeed, the woman appeared uncomfortable and ill at ease with all the attention being directed toward her.
And why all the rapt attention? The emblems emblazoned on her uniform. A small patch of royal blue encircled with gold thread could be seen on the gore of the kepi, and on the left sleeve and front left breast of the jacket. In the middle of the circle, gold and chrysolite embroidered pomegranates with two ancient runes were woven in mendilevean silver and trimmed in chrysolite-gold…legends in their own right.
The runes were revealed to the people after Asotos’ defeat in the First Megiddo War, emblazoned on the ensign of the army’s commander, Pontifex Maximus Gabrielle. None of the children knew the meaning of the rune words, for they were from an old and
strange tongue known to few but some of the oldest of the Ancients. Gabrielle it was who translated them into the common tongue, ‘Jachin’, and the second, ‘Boaz’, telling the meaning to be, ‘Yehowah has firmly established in strength’. And it was she who placed the names upon the pillars standing each side of Heaven’s Gate at the great temple door in the City of David. And it was she who later cast those pillars down in disgust, handing over the names and their titles to the new field marshal and leader of the armies, Mihai, after the burning and plundering of that same temple in the last age of free men, abandoning mankind to themselves and their own fate.
It had only been their field marshal, Mihai, who had ever possessed the power of those names, some believing it made her invincible in combat. Needless to say, to see the power of the Cherubs decorating the uniform of another - a stranger, no less - did not bode well in the minds of those seeing such a thing. An unsettled murmuring arose among the gathered crowd.
Trisha smiled nervously, politely bowing her head and lifting her kepi in salutation.
She stared into a chorus of questioning and hostile eyes. Lowenah had told her to expect the unexpected, but nothing could have prepared her for this icy welcome. Could these creatures really be the angels of story and legend that she had so longed to gaze upon in reverent admiration for all their wondrous deeds of bravery and loyal service? “Oh, for the lot of Stephen! Should I be as blessed,” she muttered under her breath as she watched faces displaying a growing disdain and anger.
Mihai was caught totally by surprise, never expecting to see her own kindred acting so rudely. As she stood to go to Trisha’s assistance, Euroaquilo took her by the arm, shaking his head. “Give it a moment, Love. There comes rescue on golden wings.”
At that instant, a handsome, dark-haired man wearing a wide, toothy grin, burst through the crowd, his arms outstretched in welcome, rushing up to Trisha, sweeping her hands up in his. “My Lady! My Lady, you look splendidly beautiful tonight!” Zadar cried just before bending down and kissing the woman’s hands.
Turning to the shocked and surprised gathering, Zadar saluted his people. “The hour of the night is begun! Our dreams are awaking to promises fulfilled. Tonight our journey is started. Fate is no longer our master. Let us rejoice with our sister in the new world that stands just outside our door. And down the Great Dragon was hurled! ”
Bewildered, the people dumbly stared at Zadar who remained there, holding one of Trisha’s hands, grinning with delight.
Darla was now sitting up. She leaned in close to Euroaquilo, squeezing his hand, giggling, “I knew he was on a new scent. He can smell a fresh doe a hundred leagues away...”
At that moment, Mihai managed to work her way through the confused throng of onlookers. Trisha released Zadar’s hand, grasping Mihai’s as she drew near. Bowing at the knees, she bent low, kissing Mihai’s hand. “My Lord...” Trisha called out in salutation. “Is my Lord well and in good spirits on this festive occasion?”
With all the charm of royalty, Mihai gracefully pulled Trisha to stand. Leaning forward, she gave her a tender kiss on her lips. In a voice just above a whisper but clear as an evening bell, she offered her salutations and congratulations to this evening’s stranger. “Let me be the first of my kind to welcome you to this honorable house and to the glory awaiting you here. Our Great Lord has set before us a creation to lead us into our future glory. Praise be to our Great Lord for bringing you to us in our darkest hour.”
Trisha winced as if in pain. Looking into Mihai’s eyes, she made a quiet reply only for her ears. “My Lord, I am a slave girl, born of the dirt of common stock, a tender of flocks and nursemaid to the snow lilies and brambles. I do what is requested of me to the best of my ability, but shall it be good enough? I do not know. I do not think myself well-suited for this job.”
Mihai smiled, kissing Trisha again and then softly replied, “A true soldier rarely does.”
Trisha smiled sadly, leaning close, whispering, “But will your lips still find mine so pleasant after this eve?”
Puzzled, Mihai stood back, her hands tenderly holding Trisha’s upper arms as she forced a smile. “Why…why ask such a silly question?” She then turned to the anxious crowd, raising an arm with outstretched fingers, calling out, “To those of you who have not had the pleasure of meeting her, allow me to introduce to you TrishaQaShaibJal, a child of secret worlds and hidden lands, raised the god of thunder and smoke. She brings the morning light, a new day’s dawning. Her sword writes red the sky in tumult and power. The hour of our glory draws near!” She stared into eyes troubled and dumbfounded. Frowning, she cried out, “Give honor to our Great Lord, our mother and Creator of all living things! This child she has made in her own image! ”
Mihai’s outburst shook the crowd into action. Collectively they bowed on bended knee, answering with the respectful words, “My Lord.”
Satisfied, Mihai now commanded, “Now, please, honor me with giving our guest the same salutation you provided me.” Motioning Zadar to act as liege, she politely bowed toward Trisha and stepped aside to allow another to come forward.
No one refused to introduce himself or herself to the new field marshal, especially since Mihai had commanded it and, by the time formalities were finished, the room was again filled with a chorus of carefree chatter, Trisha only a curious memory from an awkward moment. This was when Lowenah chose to make her entrance into the theater of secrets, gathering everyone’s attention to her… that is all, save one.
Trisha made her way into the dimly lit recesses of the bleachers, wanting a quiet respite from her nervous encounters and formal introductions. It was not to be.
“Why, hello dear! I wanted so much to meet your acquaintance.” Anna stepped out from the shadows, giving Trisha a loving hug. “I’m sorry I missed you at the greeting, but I was very busy running some errands for our new king, Mihai. It’s so exciting, isn’t it? I mean to have a new king and a new field marshal here at one time, in one night! So exciting! So exciting!” Anna bantered on about all the new things going on, the many dignitaries and military leaders present. “Why, I think I’ve not seen such a glorious crowd of important people since the end of the Great War. Have you ever?”
Trisha dumbly agreed, not admitting that she knew nothing of the Great War except from books and visual records. Anna lowered her head, half closing an eye while studying her with the other. At length she smiled, changing the subject. After some casual chatting, she excused herself, returning to those who had flocked around Lowenah.
When the coast was clear, Trisha made her way to a door hidden far under the bleachers, slipping unnoticed through it, or so she thought.
“Oh!” A woman bolted up from a desk where she had been writing some notes.
“I…I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude.” Trisha’s face reddened in embarrassment as she backed against the closed door. “I didn’t know the room was occupied. Just trying to get a breath of air from the crowd.”
“No! No! It’s all right. I was… was just leaving on an errand… an errand, you know.” The woman fumbled for the papers on the desk. “It’s so busy around here, you know… you know. Last minute work… last minute.” She hurriedly turned to go and then thought better of it.
Turning back around, she approached Trisha. “I’m sorry to be so rude. Got so busy with my work… you know, all the things going on this night… so busy. I’m Eliseah, adjutant to the Council. And you must be our new… er… field marshal… er…”
“TrishaQaShaibJal. Yes, I guess I’m the new field marshal.” Trisha extended her hand, opening the door with her other.
Eliseah took Trisha’s hand with hers and stepped in, wrapping her other hand around Trisha’s back. She swiftly moved close, sensuously kissing a much surprised field marshal on the lips.
Feeling Trisha’s troubled reaction to her advances, Eliseah opened her eyes, curious, asking, “Does my Lord not find her servant girl’s lips acceptable? Is the fragrance of her breath not sweet enough? I am sorry if I have offended...”
Trisha had tried so hard to accept the ways of these people. Many times she had watched the way the women made love to each other, but still it troubled her heart. Even the kissing of her sisters on the lips was only recently an acceptable thing for her to practice. She so much wanted to fit in and not be hurtful. It was so difficult at times.
She shook her head. “No. No, your lips are soft like petals of a rose, your breath refreshing like a summer shower. It… it is just the night, I believe. So much is on the mind of one newly troubled with heavy responsibilities. It fogs things up.”
Eliseah offered an elusive smile, revealing more than what she replied, but Trisha could not figure out its meaning. “Oh, my Lord, many are the secrets hidden in this world of men. A kiss tells us many things, more than one might imagine.” Squeezing her hand, Eliseah offered an alibi for her sudden departure and then hurried through a rear door that led down a long, dark corridor to more chambers, which eventually led to an exit onto the concourse near the Winter Gardens. From there she hurried to a tramwaiter that was to take her out past Palace City, eastward toward the Huushan Rail Stage Terminal. An hour further east and she would depart at the Waldreain Hill Terminal, making her exit from EdenEsonbar. At least that was her intention.
Watching from the shadows, angry eyes observed Eliseah’s sensual embrace. A voice cursed under its breath, “The night turns red, but which one will it be?” After seeing the woman’s rapid exit, the person behind the voice abandoned the council chambers in hot pursuit, mumbling about Trisha, who remained standing at the door, “It fools them, but it doesn’t me. Its blood I shall pour out on the ground. It hasn’t a fortnight….”
(Author’s note : The day of the councils was new. It had only existed formally about four millennia, having started after the Great Division. During the Age of Peace, the First Age, people gathered together for festivals and celebrations. Lowenah’s firstborn had oversight of most of these festivals, with his counselors’ primary jobs being the coordination and direction of events. Lowenah presided over the bigger, periodic
festivals. Everyone was invited to attend and participate. But any one of the children could choose to have a celebration and for any reason. Its size was only limited by the desires and abilities of the person initiating it. The Rebellion had ended the festivals, and it took time for the councils to evolve into these present official conferences. That evolution came from the secondary aspect of the original councils.
In the First Age, the structure of life was informal. Because of Lowenah’s passion for freedom of heart and mind, few laws existed for people to obey. Each person chose his or her own way of doing things. Large disputes were unheard of. If a small one arose that could not be settled easily, it would be handed over to older ones not directly involved. Many of these older children also served on one or more of the councils that existed, starting from the community level on up. Over several millennia, these councils grew to become highly respected for the governmental direction they provided. When a disputed matter was set before a council, its final decision, although not binding, was usually accepted.
After the Rebellion started, it was only natural for the councils to be looked to. At first, there was a great deal of confusion. Often the council houses were filled with debate over who should be followed. Lowenah had always deferred governmental responsibility to her firstborn, having him be the official public mouthpiece for rulership.
She would never openly speak contrary to any words her son had uttered. What was discussed privately between them was not revealed. Because of all the false stories generated after Lowenah expelled her firstborn from the palace, the loyalty of the people was tested. As time progressed, differences of opinion intensified to the point that many communities found themselves with two different councils trying to give direction. Each separate council tried to promote what it believed the truth of the matter really was.
Lowenah claimed to be the Creator, thus being the true God. Her son contended that he was a co-creator and that Lowenah’s power came from the secrets hidden in the Upper Palace. Lowenah asserted that anyone acting independently of the harmonics holding the universe together would eventually die. Her rebel son charged that her statements were a fallacious attempt to maintain control over her people. The people of the Second Realm later came to call the energy force produced by the harmonics ‘Holy Spirit’. Many eventually deified it and made it into another god or part of a god. It was not until aging and death started occurring among the people of the Second Realm that Lowenah was proved correct. But, by that time, her son had gained a large following, and they did not desire to return to Lowenah.
As with people of the Second Realm, when Lowenah’s own children fully abandoned her, they had also cut themselves off from the energy force binding the universe. When proof of her son’s lies became evident, they turned on Lowenah, accusing her of evil in the way she made them. They charged she used the power existing in the Upper Palace to change the fabric of the universe, thus robbing them of eternal life. The Black Vengeance that had already taken root in their hearts prevented them from seeing anything other than their own selfish longing. The desire was already growing strong to find a way to destroy Lowenah and all who still followed her. It was to the Second Realm that Lowenah’s rebel son directed his followers, to find a way to bring their desire to fruition.
One of the outstanding differences between the children of the First and Second Realms was the ability to produce offspring. All of the children of the First Realm were
the direct progeny of Lowenah, each being born from her. The children of the Second Realm were made with the ability to procreate offspring through reproduction. So even though the people grew old and died, there was an increasing of the population in that realm. The rebel sons started genetic experimentation to make a super race of men who would rule the Second Realm. Their further hope was to eventually make a race of warriors able to invade the First Realm. At that point in time, Lowenah had only populated one planet in the Second Realm. Lowenah was moved to action before this could change. She destroyed the hybrid race along with most of the life on that planet, preserving only a handful of persons and animals alive.
When people started increasing in number again, Lowenah’s rebel son attempted another takeover of the Second Realm. Before he could accomplish his plans this time, Lowenah sent a plague into the lands that altered the speech patterns of the people. This was done because she did not have the heart to destroy her creations again, and knew if her son were not stopped, history would repeat itself. Confusion and mistrust destroyed the unity among the inhabitants in the Second Realm, dividing them into nations and races. Lowenah’s rebel son found it nearly impossible to unite those people under his yoke again.
Accusations flew back and forth. Lowenah’s son charged that Lowenah was not allowing him opportunity to prove his superior ruling abilities. She asserted that he was meddling with unreasonable force to coerce people into following him. Lowenah had power far greater than her rebel son, so he attacked her authority, insinuating that if things were equal, he would be better able to show himself the more capable sovereign.
An agreement was settled upon, stating that Lowenah would no longer use her power to openly assist her children, and her son would not directly interfere with the people of the Second Realm. This forced Lowenah to also withdraw her protective power from her children in the First Realm. Without her power protecting them, the need arose for her children to protect themselves. A form of secondary government became necessary to do this. They turned to the already existing councils to provide the needed governing.
At first, Lowenah maintained command of the central government that came into existence. After repeated allegations and wrangling concerning the contrived offences brought up by her son, she set up a steward who took overall charge. This steward became the head of the council and remained such until Mihai was made field marshal.
When this occurred, Mihai removed herself from the council and took her place as its head. For a while, Lowenah continued to conduct many of the important council meetings, but she deferred to the persons in charge for the final decision. After the start of the Great War, Mihai had become the chief over the central council with Lowenah usually introducing the meetings and then handing over control to Mihai.
Everyone invited to a meeting was part of the given council. The entire number of people gathered was called the ‘General Council’. If anyone had information or an opinion, they were allowed to give voice to it. The decision-making body of the council was made up of twenty-four members. Six were personal counselors of Lowenah. Six were personal counselors of the steward, or the one in command. The remaining twelve were made up of leaders involved in, or knowledgeable of current topics of discussion.
For an issue to be resolved, eighteen of the twenty-four needed to approve it, with at least half from each of the three individual groups being in agreement. Lowenah and the steward did not have an official say in the final decision unless it directly involved them.
In that case, they had the option to refuse to execute the will of the council. If that happened, the council could choose to reconsider matters until its decision became agreeable to Lowenah or the steward. )
The night’s council was already foreboding winds of change. Lowenah had always represented the ruling power of the council, standing as king over her children. It had been comprised of twelve members, four standing: Gabrielle, PalaHar, Tizrela, and Ardon, the remaining eight being selected for each given council gathering. In time, after Legion had captured Memphis, a twelve member regent commission or council was added to the king’s council with Gabrielle acting as head, she being given title ‘Pontifex Maximus’, ‘chief bridge-builder’. At that time, Mihai was granted standing membership on Lowenah’s council. Later, near the beginning of the Third Age of Men, around the time when PaulNomikos revealed new secrets regarding the Athenians’ unknown god to Dionysius at the Areopagus, Mihai was lifted up to replace Gabrielle as head of the Regent Council, she being given the title ‘field marshal’. Tonight that was all changing.
Tonight Mihai stood as king - or a king. Few believed she represented the King, Lowenah (Yehowah)...Ma-we to Mihai. Lowenah was present as she had always been except…except this night she wore only her golden, ankle-length tresses as her royal garb, something very different from past councils. And she created a forced absence while the children gathered, something so uncustomary for her. She had also maintained a low profile, allowing court officers to stand in for her and make arrangements with the appointed counselors.
Then there was the new field marshal, a stranger to most, not from this realm, and not of their kind. This was disconcerting to many, angering a few. And knowing her escort tonight was even more troubling for them, seeing that the one chosen to be escort at an official gathering usually reflected the escorted person’s opinions. It was bad enough to have that troubling child prance Mihai around the room, surely some of Mother’s mischief! But to have her…Mihai…the king apparent, request Zadar to escort the new field marshal? Oh, that did not bode well at all…not at all!
There was something queer about that young fellow, Zadar, a most likable fellow for sure, and quite a romantic with the women, but he had a dark side about him, stories whispered concerning his conduct on the battlefields much like his sister, they had been told. He and that sister of his…he was far too close to her, she having too much of a hold over his mind, some said. It was reported once that that girl, Darla, was overheard telling the boy, ‘It’s better negotiating with a corpse...easier to come to an agreement it is.’ And he just stood there, laughing. And that kind of an opinion did not set well with the majority of the council and their supporters.
So here they were this eve, hundreds of the Empire’s wisest and most ardent overseers gathered for a very important, official meeting. The question now was, ‘Who would sit the council?’ At least Mother had taken her station at the head table, and it appeared that Mihai was making her way to the head of the Regent Council, and ‘that girl’ still remained sitting high up in the bleachers, bringing a sigh of relief to a few. The court officers were hurriedly seeking out members who were to sit the councils this night.
All waited with bated breath, knowing well that the composition of gathering clouds often foretells the weather.
Mihai created no surprises with her choices at first. True, SymeonKephim and PaulNomikos were outsiders, men from the Realms Below, but they had taken well to their new home, likable and respectable fellows, knowing their place in the social order of things, not making a fuss. They had both worked diligently to adapt to the ways of these people, accepting the long established customs found here.
Then there were the counselors of renown, long-standing members of Mihai’s council who were: AnamParedreuo, at times addressed as ‘Governess Anna’, but better known just as ‘Anna’ or ‘Lady Anna’; EuroaquiloIllyricum, the ‘StormWind’, warrior and protector of Mihai in deeds and wisdom, who sat down beside Paul; PlanetesAntistrate, commonly called ‘Planetee’, a fearsome warrior, drunk or sober; and TereoAprupneo, referred to as ‘Terey’, best fighter pilot in the Empire, second to none in the TKR – 17, better known as the ‘flying corkscrew’, but whose exploits had cost the woman her health long ago, forcing her at times to a sickbed with unstoppable nose bleeds and chronic bowel disorders.
Also seated at Mihai’s table were some of her long-time counselors well known to children of the Empire: OfhieSanternano - chief construction officer for all civil engineering jobs on EdenEsonbar; CrilenianTorpedee – diplomat and Keeper of the Scrolls of Peace; KyseninaGerzion – Watcher Over the House and secretary for Mihai’s council; DarlaRosa – an Ancient whose prescience of insight and foreknowledge offered the council visions into hidden secrets of cosmic wisdom; and DornanceZaboren, troubadour and herald of kingly matters, Maiden to the Crystal Gems and Maker of the Singing Stones.
The one person who troubled many in the crowd was the last seated at Mihai’s table
- TolmetesRhedEpi, ‘mad charioteer of the Sudan’. At least that was the reputation this Off-worlder had brought with her upon arrival into this realm. Tolmetes was battle-hardened by continuous frontier guerilla wars in this realm, in which she had enlisted for over twenty years. The woman’s glistening, brown skin rippled with muscular firmness while her coal-black eyes burned with wild excitement for adventure. It was said that her mother was an Ethiopian princess and her father descended from the kings of the Heruls.
Tolmetes had already lived up to her name for being mad and wild, at least in a fight.
Flying an old T-4 fighter-bomber she, in lone combat, had destroyed four Stasis Pirate fighters over Exothepobole in a skirmish a little over a year before. It had been rumored that the woman had told acquaintances that ‘war was a gift from God and not to be wasted on good deeds and diplomacy’. For Mihai to place this person at her council table on such an important evening did not bode well for those who hoped for peaceful outcomes to the Rebellion.
Lowenah’s choices for her council troubled many as well, even some of her older council members. The first four, though, did not threaten the old ways. As expected, Mother had Lord PalaHar and Lady Tizrela seated to her right and left. From days of long ago, those two had been called the ‘Cherub Stones’ (lit: 'music of the gods'). Next to be seated were Lord Ardon and Lady Tashi, also expected to be on the council. These four were advocates for more peaceful solutions to the Rebellion, all being involved in procuring the armistice that ended the Great War. They hoped that, if given enough rope and time, Asotos’ League of Brothers would disintegrate under the weight of its own internal strife, leaving the Children’s Empire to merely go in and clean up the twisted remains.
But then, to the chagrin of many, the people watched Zadar hurry forward, pulling on the hand of an embarrassed field marshal, Trisha, as she nearly stumbled her way to Lowenah’s council table, being seated along side Tizrela who turned and smiled warmly at the woman. Trisha was unknown to most, but not all. A select few were privy to the woman’s arrival some years before and her education in the arts of combat. She had taken quite quickly to guerilla wars being fought on the frontiers of the Empire, making somewhat of a name for herself, and rapidly advanced up the ranks. Some called her cruel, others ruthless when it came to the fight. If she ever had remorse, it was never revealed, her eyes hiding any and all secrets of emotion.
NoazOhfehr, BruunTaciak, and DinChizki were veterans of the long wars of the Rebellion, heroes of the Great War and advocates for total war. DinChizki was credited with saving the army at Memphis by ordering a daring, suicidal counterattack against Legion’s shock troopers in the Battle of the Tower Gate, thus opening a way of escape for thousands of trapped soldiers through the breach of the north passage wall. These men were not diplomats but soldiers viewed as mercenaries of violence and destruction.
Many faces frowned in displeasure at seeing them take positions at Lowenah’s table.
Richard Finhardt and Tabitha Copeland were two strangers from the Lower Realms and unknown to all but a few. What was known of Finhardt was that he had been raised in a military society and nurtured in the ways of war. From infancy, his father had trained him to be a soldier. By seventeen he had received the status of fighter pilot, flying wood and canvas warships of his day, and by eighteen he had acquired the title of
‘ace’, sending seventeen enemy ‘flying coffins’ to the depths below by war’s end. He cast another eight from the skies several years later during another civil war.
Tabitha Copeland was a surprise, well-liked but not trusted by the diplomats in the council. The woman’s green eyes cast rays of merriment and mirth when she entertained her new friends and acquaintances. She listened intently to tales Ancients told of the world of yesterday, often writing down her conversations at evening’s end. An historian, anthropologist, mathematician, and librarian, a ‘bookworm’ as she called herself and…she was also a brilliant tactician and strategist. It was said of her that she had once calculated the mass of the Orginian Nebula by triangulating different locations from telescopic references on EdenEsonbar and superimposing the factors of the speed of light over time against the gravitational effect, doing the math in her head. But why Copeland at this council? Her presence made no sense to them.
And then there was HoiOnarasis, ‘mountain wolf of the Jahouk’, a name given him by his soldiers after the First Battle of Memphis, a well-deserved one. Sweeping south out of the Pass of Korteniaz, his two brigades slammed into the northern flank of General StokJakke’s (one of Legion’s chief officers) First Corps, breaking up its advance against Mihai’s ravaged Seventh and Twelfth Corps, sending it into a rout which was not halted until it reached Memphis far to the south. Light cavalry commander, fighter and heavy bomber pilot, tank commander, tug, tender, and frigate captain, Army, Marines, Navy command - what was there in his long military history that HoiO hadn’t been or done? He was a most qualified and able soldier, but he was no statesman. His statesmanship came at the point of a sword.
But most troubling of all was a hooded, blonde fellow who made his own way to the council table. Mother grinned, motioning him to a place beside Ardon who politely bowed his head in salutation, showing no expression to give away his feelings about the
man. The mysterious Mr. Garlock, or ‘Jebbson’ to his friends…of whom there were few…sat, pulling back his hood to reveal a handsome, bearded man with long hair that fell to his shoulders. What powers or wisdom did this Garlock possess that proffered his presence at the king’s table and one so close to the head as to be seated next to a chief counselor? He was an Off-worlder for sure and said to be curt, blunt, bold, not in total agreement with the Empire’s strategies of warfare, and a close friend of Tolmetes and Darla…‘too close’, some complained.
Garlock lived, squirreled away in a laboratory at Oros, coming to Palace City on occasion, and then only to disrupt meetings at the War Department with some brainy, new invention or idea he had come up with, or so it was told. And he managed to get Mihai’s and Mother’s ears way too often. Some complained of him as being uncouth in using his boyish charms to seduce the women of the land into doing his bidding. Others believed the gaze from his piercing, blue eyes sufficiently powerful enough to mesmerize the innocent of heart, giving him passage into the victim’s soul in order to bend her reasoning to his will. The women close to him would only smile at such accusations while their eyes drifted dreamily upward.
Yes, the night did not bode well for those hoping for peaceful solutions to troubling problems. Still, there was Ardon, chief counselor and close confidant of Lowenah. If anyone could pull a peaceful solution out of the fire, it would be him. He was unflinching in respecting the value of diplomacy, believing it had saved the Empire down to this day and would eventually lead to the end of the Rebellion and a return to a peaceful universe. Yes, Ardon was the key. He must succeed. The future of the Empire rested on his shoulders. Diplomacy was the answer to real peace and a returning to the way it used to be. Oh, for the way it was then! Ardon could make that happen…
* * *
When the council was seated, attendants gathered those providing testimony concerning the evening’s topics to a special seating area down on the main floor. Among them was Bedan, uncomfortable at finding himself in such a limelight. Around this time, an attendant had worked her way through the crowded bleachers to reach Darla. In little above a whisper, she asked her to remain for the entire meeting, for Mother had some business she wished to discuss with her. Curious, Darla nodded she would.
A hush fell across the room as lights dimmed, the stage illuminating collected council members. All eyes focused on Lowenah, waiting on her to open the meeting, which was her custom. But she remained quietly seated, her eyes fixed on Mihai who alone stood, casting a gaze upon her mother, both women staring deeply into each other’s soul. The hour was set. Time ruled this eve. It was lord and god over all the people gathered. Mother was waiting upon Time, for it to reveal itself in all its power. When the moment was right, she smiled, nodding ever so slightly.
The theater stage gradually fell dim while lights secreted high in the ceiling cast their white, circular glow upon part of the stage floor, the silence deafening. At that instant, Mihai stepped into the radiant light, motioning with her hand toward the shadows.
Slowly, the illuminated part of the floor began to rise. This was nothing new, it being a common practice for such events. What was unexpected was that Mihai stood upon the throne, Mother having always carried the moment at all past moots of her calling.
Mihai looked stunningly beautiful in her royal gown, flowing, bejeweled, silken train, and golden, kingly crown. She slowly turned in place, peering into the shadows, smiling as one does when looking into the eyes of a person she loves. When she again faced the council, she stopped, waiting for the lights of the room to reveal to her the faces of those gathered. The new king then searched the eyes of the crowd, followed by those seated at the council tables, finishing with her mother’s.
Lowenah smiled, remaining silent. This was her daughter’s night, a sign for future days. Mihai must deliver words to move her brothers and sisters to action. She must ignite a fire in their breasts. It was in preparation for this very night that Lowenah had so anxiously labored. Now destiny lay in the hands of her chosen one, her daughter of the darkness and the light.
Like the peal of a watchman’s bell crashing upon quiet waters, Mihai began, her voice never faltering. “We have dreamed of the old world for too long. We, the children of the gods, have folded our hands in rest, sleeping on soft pillows of self-denial while our enemy has worked laboriously to bring our destruction. The wine of our intoxicating drink has kept us drowsy and complacent. Wake up! The universe sits on the very precipice of destruction! Each passing day draws us ever closer to extinction. It rests in our hands to save our world… all worlds from the coming day of fire and fury!”
She lifted a hand, extending it toward Lowenah. “Our Mother, Lowenah, the Maker of men…Yehowah, the Fulfiller of promises…the One who shall become whatever is needed to become…has clearly informed us that she is forced by law…a law twisted by the deceit and treachery of our wicked brother…that she can not, will not directly intervene in the events of this coming hour to correct matters. Our world must wake to it or…or our kind will die in our drunken slumber. If we do not effect the success of the coming hour ourselves, all will be lost.” She bowed her head in remorse. “But that hour has already passed. Our glory is diminished because of the treachery of our own hearts.”
Without pause, she lifted her eyes to the crowd and cried out, “Tonight we must call out a curse upon our own hearts! The discord of evil that is tearing apart the fabric of the universe will soon destroy all living things!” She lifted a fist high, shouting, “We must act now to stop it! And damned be the present, past and future of our own selfish dreams! ”
A groaning sigh rippled across the auditorium, the people like a weathered, ancient tree sagging under the weight of a tempestuous storm. There was no denying the need to prepare for the wrath of the coming fury, and none entertained the idea of shirking his or her personal responsibility. It was a question of strength. Did this people retain the energy to pick up the banner of war and dive, again, into Hell’s inferno?
Even Tizrela lowered her head, closing her eyes and seeing the grief anew in her weary mind. Well she remembered the hour and the day when she, leading a brigade of DinChizki’s cavalry against the advancing enemy at Memphis, was pitched from her mount, her body shattered by a missile blast, how Din, himself, had ridden through the raging horde to provide rescue of her torn body, fearing her already dead. And so many others were never rescued but lay scattered and broken across the tortured plain, their bones still littering the fields in front of Memphis to this day.
Yes, the aching and weariness from the last war, the Great War, still rested deep within the souls of Lowenah’s loyal children. Just containing the enemy for those many years since the war ended had sapped what little energy remained in them. The thought
of resurgence of hostilities, and even on a much grander scale, was more than many hearts felt able to bear. It was true, and no one doubted it, the fate of the universe rested on a fickle knife’s edge, and they, the children of the gods, must bend that fate to do their will. A collective chill ran through the crowd at understanding what they must do to accomplish that deed, a somber awareness that suddenly made the room feel less cheerful, the shadows cold and dark.
All eyes fastened upon their new king. She, alone, could give them the power and strength to press on, to bring matters to a finish. This was one of Mihai’s finest hours, always was when she was fired up. She made mistakes, wasn’t the wisest of their leaders, took too many chances, risked everything on a whim. She was impetuous. Yet there was no one greater than Mihai when little hope could be found. She inspired her brothers and sisters to acts of courageous valor by her own outrageous valor.
In raging battles, when all was lost, with no hope remaining, the woman would stand up, raising her colors high, daring any to follow, leading the charge with the fury of an enraged lioness. Just seeing Mihai’s ship or banner join the fight could change the outcome of a battle. She was the ‘jewel of life’, ‘goddess divine’. She gave them life when there was no life remaining. She was the ‘fire of the heavens’ that burned away all doubt and fear. The woman could make her people crave the field of slaughter as one does a lost lover. On her rested all hope. She would lead the way tonight. She would show them how to survive the coming tempest. She would show them how to win this greatest of all battles. This was her coming war. This was going to be the King’s War.
The room had become as still as the tombs of yesterday’s heroes. All waited upon the moment. Mihai lowered her head, her eyes studying her hands as if the secrets of the future were hidden in them. In time, she looked up into the faces of those sitting in the bleachers, the sadness of the hour carving deep furrows in her forehead, making the new king appear aged like the mountains.
She now began to pace the raised circle, stopping at times to address parts of the audience. From deep within a heart that burned with eagerness of the moment and lamentations of the ages, a majestic power arose in Mihai’s voice that signaled the crowd to pay heed to what their ruling prophet was about to reveal. Cold and clear her words rang out. “Prophecy speaks of a great warrior who will crush our enemy to nothing!”
Mihai studied the people’s reaction then shook her head, “I am not that warrior.”
She paused again. “He will come from a realm beyond ours, a realm ever filled with violence, war, and hatred. In his land, love is little more than a word used to speak of the romantic devotion shared between a man and woman. It is a wretched land, having never known peace, plagued with disease and death, the very gifts this warrior will deliver to us. He will ride with a host more fearsome than the enemies we face… have ever faced… and who care nothing for the past we have loved so much. This host will deride the fearful and they will sneer at the cowards and dreamers. Yes, they will look with disdain upon our weaknesses, for our failure to bring to ruin what most certainly should have been brought to ruin. Maidens and old men he will trample as though mere blades of grass.” Mihai lowered her head as if in shame, slowing shaking it, lamenting,
“…something that we could have done, but our hearts refused to permit us to do.”
Lifting her head up to reveal a fire burning in her eyes, Mihai raised her hand high, crying, “The prophets of his world call him ‘Apollyon the Destroyer’, but our Ancients address him as ‘Shiloh’!”
Mihai cast her eyes toward the floor and began to pace anew. “Who this man is, this person, we do not know. Our Mother has chosen it to be so. But I tell you, this man lives even now, as I speak. He is the Finished Mystery, the Sacred Secret. He will take up the commander’s staff and sit down on the very seat of the Firstborn.” She looked into the faces of the surprised council, resting her gaze upon her mother’s. “I have neither the strength nor desire to stand such a post anymore.”
Turning again to the stunned, silent crowd, Mihai declared, “Today I have accepted the lordship promised to me long ago. This frees up law so that our mother may move ahead with her purposes so that she can, once and for all, bring down the one that tries to destroy us.”
Mihai slammed a fist into her opened hand, shouting, “It belongs to us, the children of the gods, to defend these realms against our brother’s evil until Shiloh arrives!”
Much to Mihai’s surprise, the room erupted in ecstatic applause, many standing and shouting their approval. Some hugged each other while some cried with joy or shook their fists in defiance. So, the tired and weary were being filled with renewed energy.
Mihai had feared the worst, believing her speech would have a detrimental effect on the people. It proved to be just the opposite, for the people were rejoicing in open celebration.
The celebrants fully understood the meaning of Mihai’s warning words. They also knew the blow would be crushing for Lowenah’s children. What they did not yet realize was that the hammer would strike hardest upon the very ones gathered here this night.
Few would survive to see Shiloh arrive, their torn and ruined bodies scattered across dozens of star systems, surrendered up to a cause to hold at bay the four winds of destruction until Shiloh’s day. Had they known, it would have mattered little on this eve, for the children could see the future promised day as if it had already come and…and their new king would be leading them toward it.
Mihai waited for the energy of the moment to subside, seeking the exact instant to begin again. At length, it arrived. “Faith is not a possession of all. Many of our kind have surrendered to the fates and whims of doubt, believing it is futile to continue a fight that will only end in failure. But you…you have not listened to the foolish prattle of the Wicked Snake…have not allowed him to corrupt your hearts with hopelessness. You, my brothers and sisters, have acted through this desperate age on the faith that all the promises our mother has promised will eventually be realized.”
“Tonight…tonight…” Mihai’s voice was choked off by a nervous constriction in her throat. Her mouth refused to permit the coming words. A heart begging for reprieve from the wanton slaughter and violence screamed out to the mind, telling it to be silent about the matter and to give the people what they wanted to hear…that peace would come some other way, a more kindly and gentler way. Suddenly, two separate visions flashed into Mihai’s eyes, each playing its fated outcome simultaneously. Two roads loomed before the woman, one the way of the heart, the other of the mind.
Mihai watched in awe, seeing the two unfold before her. First there was the one she and her kind so badly wanted. Easy it was to travel as it swept her along its green and flowered pathway. ‘Peace! Peace!’ was the cry upon the breeze, promising all a return to the old ways before their universe was torn asunder, with all souls, all lovers, all lives, returned to a glorious, forgetful past. But, as she sped along, an ominous, dark,
foreboding, swirling gloom loomed ahead, sending the woman into a stifling, black nothingness from which there was no returning.
Oh, but how much worse the second road was… maddening and destructive! It tore at Mihai’s senses, her very sanity. Ghastly scenes of horror and devastation flashed up at her. From every direction, fire and storm enveloped her. The cries of the dying filled her ears while unspeakable sights pummeled her soul. Disembodied voices called out accusingly, ‘It is you! You have brought this torment upon us!’ At length, a calm settled in, revealing that the road traveled on into gloomy uncertainty, but not total hopelessness.
Mihai opened her eyes to see Ma-we staring at her from a distance. She knew that the visions were no random events of a confused brain trying to grasp reality by sorting out possibilities of future decisions. Ma-we had given her child the visions just now, to show her daughter that there was no guarantee for a happy ending of coming events, but that hope existed by taking only one road, the one most feared and loathed. She nodded at her mother, a resolve growing in her breast to make the right decision, the only decision.
“Tonight…” she began again, her voice sounding with that resolve, “Tonight I present evidence to you that your faith has not been in vain. Even now, the very army of which I have spoken is being gathered for the tempest. Even now, they stand among us, waiting to take their places as our leaders, our new mentors.” Mihai shouted, “They will teach us how to gather to ourselves the anger and the rage of God the Almighty! ”
Again, much to Mihai’s surprise, the room filled with a wild roar of approval. When all was quiet, she continued. “Long ago, before there was a world of men, the Ancients told of a prophecy that should the universe fall into darkness, there would be fulfilled upon those who survived to this current day the glory of the ending hour. It has been no secret, but few have remembered it other than in a child’s nursery rhyme, a phrase, as you may recall, that speaks thusly…
‘And when the sun is blotted out,
The three moons of Sharon shall give us light.
And by their blades of burnished hue,
They shall lead forth in glory’s fight.’
“As you well know, Sharon means, literally, ‘mother of low stones’, or ‘maker of lowly light’. It is said by some of the Ancients that there once existed a star system which was ruled over by a kingly race of seers and wizards. Chief among the planets of this mythical universe was one called ‘Lagandow’, the capital of this race’s empire.
Hanging high above the sky of this long-forgotten world was a moon surrounded by three radiant rings, brilliant in reflective hues of red, green and yellow, which they cast down upon the fields and hills of Lagandow.
“In the fables told to us when we were children, it was said that the moon’s name, when translated into our common tongue was called ‘Sharon’ and the rings, or children, were named for the color each emitted: ‘Ruby’, ‘Jade’ and ‘Gold’. Collectively, they were heralded as the ‘Blades of Light’. When the moon shown its brightest, the three children would almost disappear from sight. But when dark shadows enveloped their mother, the children would shout out their glory like blazing fires, lighting the night’s
sky. At least that is as I remember the tale being told.” She glanced at PalaHar, who smiled and gave a nod.
“My brothers and sisters, those of you who have supported me upon the field of slaughter, and those of you who I have sat in council with, and all here who have held true to our cause over these countless centuries, the world in which we live has been cast into darkness and foreboding. No longer does our light shine forth, cutting through the gloom of evil that surrounds us. The hour has come...the hour when the children from the Lower Realms must become the beacons of light, guiding our universe toward its final destiny.”
“It was also said of the three flaming blades that, should the universe become darkened, should the glory of the sun fade, the fires of the blades would continue to shine upon the ruins of Lagandow as a sign that not all was forsaken, but that hope remained as long as love moved the hearts of Lowenah’s children. My brothers and sisters…” Mihai raised her voice, declaring, “Our love for our mother has not wavered! Our hope is sure! ” Again, an uproar of approval and applause from the crowd forced Mihai to pause until it subsided.
“There are…” Mihai caught her breath to ease a growing excitement in her heart.
“There are three Swords to be taken from the world beyond, the underworld of this universe, which, like Sharon, is a reflection of our own world…our own souls. They have been fashioned in the form of all mankind but have been tempered in the forges of Hell by the very tortures from our brother’s sick mind. To them there is a giving of power and strength beyond that of mortals, beyond our own power and strength. Like their lord, Shiloh, they laugh at danger and distress, for their souls have become like the wizards of Lagandow, their fathers. They do not fear death, for death is become their slave. They are become the wielders of death, the destroyers of souls!”
The room cried out its deafening silence. No one spoke. No one dared. This news was queer and unnerving. Oh yes, tales of Lagandow were well known and the rings of Sharon were symbols of hope, but other than metaphor? And the wizards of Lagandow spoken of as being real? True, some related them to the Cherubs, machines of Lowenah’s...living machines, maybe, but machines to do her bidding…at least that was the belief of many of Lowenah’s children. They, the children, were the first real offspring of Mother, the first to have a heart and soul. At least that was what many assumed.
Some in the room did not wear an expression of shock, but remained silent, caring not to reveal their personal feelings. Mihai again looked at PalaHar, sitting silently, leaned back in his chair, hands folded in his lap. It was he who long ago told an inquisitive child tales of Lagandow and of the strange fellows who ruled the worlds from before time. He painted such vivid pictures, the girl even now could see the cities and wonders of that world in her mind.
And there were others...Gabrielle, Terey, Tizrela, and those like them, quirky and different in comparison to the other children, especially the younger ones. They were always aloof, speaking little of the First Age, of when they were children, that is, except for PalaHar. He made story and rhyme of those days. Indeed, as Mihai thought about it, it was from books written by him that what little knowledge of the First Age was revealed to the younger children was mostly through song and riddle.
Mihai had believed those stories until… until the ages of bliss and adventure clouded them from her mind. Only in the occasional dream share with PalaHar were they revived, but then for only a moment. When cresting the tidal surge during the ecstasy of their lovemaking, how easy it was to believe in strange and wondrous things when only a child. No, wait! Somehow she felt there was truth hidden in those riddling rhymes, and that was why her heart was forced to speak of them this eve. Was there really a power or force that drove the ships of destiny, and all the children needed do was remain aboard at their stations, staying whatever course those powers chose to take?
And Lagandow was real, at least according to the history books. The burning of Lagandow marked the official end of the First Age and the beginning of the Second. All calendars began with that date, when the fires of a supernova reached the eyes of those living on EdenEsonbar. That was the zero date for all timetables. Even Gradian’s Clock was reset to measure from that day forward. There was no official history predating that event, only fables and tales told by the Ancients living back then. Mihai’s heart told her that PalaHar spoke truth concerning the past, truth hidden in mirth and prose. She believed her heart was telling those truths, too, this eve...truths designed to bring hope to tired souls.
Awaking from her inner thoughts with a jolt, Mihai looked up to see hundreds of anxious faces anticipating coming revelations. She did not keep the people waiting. “Of those Blades, those Swords, one walks among you even now, hiding in the shadows of your thoughts, observing always and searching out our secrets. Her blade strikes like a rapier, plunging deep into the hearts of those who hate us. Already her sword, its insatiable thirst only awakening, has been baptized in the blood of our enemy, their slaughter extending along the broadways of the stars. The manliness of Godenn will be consumed in her wrath. She, this Sword, will open the path for the Queen of Darkness who will bring that evil man to nothing during his greatest hour of glory.”
A quiet moan of lament rose from the voices of women in the crowd and a cry of anger arose from the men. Godenn was a notorious, sadistic murderer of Lowenah’s loyal children - any child, for that matter, if it suited his fancy. He often skinned his captives alive, torturing them for days before releasing their bodies to death. But he reserved his cruelest practices for the women in the land, having abandoned their flesh long ago, blaming them for his ulcers and inflammations.
He would cut off the breasts of his sisters, while still alive, cooking them for his lieutenants to feast upon. Often, at these same celebrations, he would deliver the female captives up for sport, heaping upon them every sort of humiliation and violence the mind could conjure, even to the point of forcing them to eat the female parts torn from their fellow sisters. Godenn was the commanding field officer at Memphis when Mihai’s army suffered defeat and rout at its gates. He openly meted out to the wounded on the field his most vile forms of torture, forcing Mihai’s soldiers to watch, helpless to prevent them.
But who was the Queen of Darkness? Mihai did not say nor did she know. In fact, when later asked concerning it, she did not recall speaking about such a person.
Hurrying on, Mihai spoke of another Sword, a second. “It is yet to come, but lives as I speak. Her power is in her anger that is yet to be realized. A female cub born, a female cub she is, but to be like a grieving she-bear, crushing and smashing in her madness, she will become. In her fiery fury, cities will melt and lands will become desolate. Woman
and old man will quail as she rages forth from her den to bring to nothing all living things. She will devour the flower of Memphis, burning its ramparts and shattering its fortress towers. Only in that hour, when she carries the head of Legion in her own hands, will the she-bear finally find rest, making that city her own.”
The crowd sat stunned, many with mouth agape. The ruthlessness of Legion against Lowenah’s loyal children was well known. His glory was nearly that of Asotos, but for cruelty, none could compare. Second in command over the League of Brothers, and chief among the wizards and warlocks, few rivaled his secret knowledge of the universe and his uncanny powers at controlling that knowledge. No one dared face him in mortal combat, the man’s abilities being extraordinary. Even Gabrielle and Mihai, in their many wars against him, had failed to defeat the man or retake the stolen city of Memphis.
There had been but one person residing in the dark realms of Hell below who had shown no fear of Legion, and he shuddered at the very mention of her name.
Through deceit, murder and treachery, Legion secured his power within the League of Brothers, finally taking Memphis by force of arms to make that holy city his capital, taking the title ‘Sagamore De Warlock’, ‘the greatest magician’, by doing so, forever corrupting the titles of the Ancients who taught the science of EbenCeruboam. With his proximity to Eden’s Gate, greatest of all the portals, Legion immersed himself in toying with the children of the Lower Realms, something he reveled in until the Children’s Empire wrested that portal away from him during the Three Hundred Year’s War.
Legion was sly and cruel, playing with victims like a cat does a mouse. No greater was this displayed than the way he practiced this on the hapless men and women of the Second Realm. For pleasure, he would use his learned powers to take control of unsuspecting minds and force them to practice upon themselves and others every sort of abominable perversion. He instigated the building of massive arenas used for the sport of slaughter, then offered, for a price, to his rebel brothers the opportunity to feel the thrill of the people’s suffering. It was in one of these slaughter pens that the creature destined to bring Legion’s eventual demise was brought to birth by the fiery forge hammers of Legion’s own hand.
Mihai moved on quickly, allowing little time for the people to contemplate the meaning of her prophecy concerning the second Sword. She lifted her arm, waving her hand to draw the people’s attention away from their own inner ponderings and back to her. “I have taken up a scepter of authority given me by the One and Only true Authority of this world…of all worlds. Reluctantly it was, with much trepidation, my hand reached out for the power of this kingly duty, knowing how frail a child resides within this mortal body. I ask you, will you honor our mother by also acknowledging the kingship she has given me?”
Euroaquilo stood, shouting, “To the ends of the universe and beyond! See, our king and our God!”
Applause and shouting mingled in a confusing chorus of jumbled approval coming from the crowd. Smiles and tears, nodding heads...not one person disapproved. All here had waited for this day to come. Knowing now what it meant for this universe, all accepted the future it would deliver upon them.
Mihai’s face flushed red. She quietly nodded then, turning to her mother, bowed, lowering her crown in symbol of showing who the true King and God of this universe was. Lowenah smiled, holding back tears. This was her chosen daughter, most loved,
most cherished. This was to be the second time she would allow her to face the Dragon unto death, if not in the flesh, at least in the spirit. Oh, how her heart ached with pride!
Mihai replaced the crown and stared up at the people. Not hesitating, she cried, “My acceptance of this kingly crown frees up law! Our Eternal King can now hand over to me… to us… Shiloh’s Sword, to wield as befits the Children’s Empire until that man shall arrive and take up his rightful station on his throne. That Sword will not fail us!
Born in the depths of Hell and raised to the Heavens, ‘Ruby’ is the name of this blade, the ring that swaddles her mother in a protective glow. Red is the blood of the enemy it slays as it goes forth in a rage to bring ruin upon those who have ruined this world.”
Excitement grew in Mihai’s voice. “She will teach us how to hate! She will teach us how to crave vengeance! She…she will teach us all the ways of the North!” Calling out with a beseeching command, Mihai asked, “Will you permit me the right to give glory to that Sword so that it might live in power? Will you follow her leadership, unquestioningly, no matter where she may lead you?”
The noise from the crowd rose to a deafening tumult, overwhelmingly approving Mihai’s request. The world was now forever changed. The end…the end, the final fury was begun. True, it might take years to bring it to a finish, but this time, this war…this was not a war to merely hold the enemy at bay. The death knell for Asotos was sounded.
When the smoke cleared, before they could count their dead, the League of Brothers would be driven from this universe. It was now only a matter of time.
Above the din, Mihai shouted, waving her hand, “See! See, the Sword in my hand, the Smashing Hammer!”
A hush filled the room as anxious eyes scanned for this Sword of promise. No one moved. Was this person really here, or was Mihai speaking only in symbols? Time seemed to stand still, even breathing becoming labored. Yet no one stirred. The look on Mihai’s face did not change. No, the king’s Sword was real. It must be! But was it?
Mihai’s arm had not moved. All eyes followed the direction it was pointing, right toward Lowenah’s council table.
Finally, after Tizrela nudged someone beside her, a demure woman, small in stature and delicate in appearance slowly stood. Wide-eyed, the shocked crowd stared, the insignia of field marshal emblazoned upon the woman’s sleeve shouting its presence while challenging all power and authority in the room. Some gasped, others moaned within themselves, but most were too overwhelmed with wonder to do more than stare.
This was the moment Lowenah had been waiting for. Before they could gather their senses, she cast a most powerful spell over the room. A vision extraordinaire flashed from Trisha’s eyes, blazing its radiant storm into the furthest corners of the theater. Like a hurricane, its passionate fury ripped at the very fiber of the people’s being, tearing into and through them, sweeping everyone along in its tempest. Out beyond the walls of these chambers, past the city, far into space, until the galaxy itself was only a tiny dot lost in a very large universe, the vision took them, Trisha’s fiery eyes glowing blinding crimson red, ever heating the raging maelstrom surrounding them. A voice, low in tone but powerful in intensity, filled their ears with a disquieting moan. ‘You have come to this.
There is no turning back!’
Moments became centuries, centuries turned into millenniums and millenniums heaped upon millenniums until time was lost beyond time. The voice chanted out in forgotten song:
“And Sharon weeps because of her daughter, for she has become strong and ruthless.
Shall Lagandow not rise again and bring an ending to all matters?
And look! The bow of the Watchers is broken so that its arrows have failed.
Who will bring a healing into death now so that my children shall stand on high again?
Oh Watcher, oh Watcher, see the Sword that delivers death and brings renewed life.
Your blood shall it seek to bring your salvation, and by your death shall all things live again.
My daughter burns bright with the blood of all men, for she does bring ruin to all flesh.
Give glory to her, for she alone shall rescue me in this hour of darkness.
And Ruby is death, and Ruby is dawn, and Ruby is blood in death and in life.”
As soon as the chant ended, another began, this time from beneath Trisha’s fiery, burning orbs.
“Shall the moth call out to the eagle and yet live?
I say ‘I am the moth, come to devour the eagle, its young, and even its prey!’
Who shall stand against the crimson tide, or speak against the fires of a tormented earth?
Who shall defy the gods and yet live, or touch the sun and not become burned?
‘Look, I,’ says the moth, ‘shall do all these things and will yet do more!
I shall drink down the tide and pour it out upon my enemy.
I shall catch up the molten fires of the Earth and pitch them into the sea to bring all flesh to nothing.
I shall spit into faces of those calling themselves ‘gods’ and eat up their fleshy parts.’
And look and become afraid, for I shall quench the fires of the sun and make the world of men dark and foreboding.
Look and become afraid,
For I am the moth that has become the mountain wall of Yehowah!
In my rage, I will bring all matters to a finish.
Come! See my anger!’”
Instantly, before the people’s eyes, the universe began to spin crazily, showing them in a moment of time all the days of the First Age, they hearing warnings of the glowing spirits of God. Along they were taken until the carefree hours of the Second Age had fallen into the turbulent despair of the Third, and on they were swept. With the screeching of a banshee-wind, they were hurried forward, past the final battle at Memphis, the ending of the last war, this very evening, and far through the blackness of unborn time until…until they stood upon the precipice of some future day, to the End of Days.
Spellbound, all eyes peered out into boiling clouds of sulfur and smoke and down onto a vast plain. To their terror and amazement, the people watched the valley plain erupt in fire and ruin as the surging mountain upon which they rode rampaged across the
land. Screeching wind drowned out the cries of the slain as armies and cities disappeared into a tumultuous storm the mountain chased, only to be vomited out from that very storm as overflowing rivers of blood.
“Deliver their souls to Hades’ gates!” a disembodied voice shouted.
At that, the mountain tore loose from itself giant boulders, flinging them down upon fleeing hordes seeking escape, torn asunder or burned to ash when the boulders erupted in explosive flames. Those who escaped the rage of the mountain and the burning missiles were consumed in the mountain’s anger as it released upon the entire plain scorpions and creeping things borne from the very mountain but hungry for the flesh of all living creatures.
And behold! Look! To everyone’s amazement, leading the battle charge, riding amidst the creatures of the abyss was a helmed female warrior mounted on a fiery red warhorse, brandishing a long, blood-drenched sword. Darkened red with the blood of the slain, the woman’s hair trailed in the wind, striking the enemy as with the sting of a scorpion’s tail, her eyes casting a burning light upon the enemy, dissolving all flesh from their bones.
Raising the sword high, the warrior urged her army onward, shouting, “Forward, on to death! Faster! Faster! To the end! Fear not their steel or their blade! Damn them!
Send them all to Gehenna’s Gate! ”
Despite the maddening speed of the creeping hordes boiling up from the mountain’s fiery belly, it kept pace, crushing friend and foe, any who fell behind, caring not for man or woman, wild or domestic beast, the weak or the strong. A voice coming out from the midst of the scorpions and creeping things, following up closely behind the helmed rider cried out, ‘ Fear not the beasts or those who rule their kingdom! Fear the makers of hosts, the kings of darkness who shed light upon those they choose and bring gloom upon the faint of heart, for we are the kings over your minds! Your nightmares are our playgrounds. Fear us, for ours is the night and the day. Good we can gift or bad. It is our choice! ’
The vision sped along, leaving those witnessing it standing alone upon a torn and tortured plain. As thunderous convulsions of the angry mountain echoed into the distance, a calm and peaceful quiet grew around them, easing the pain and dread that had enveloped their hearts. Dark clouds of a foreboding night gradually faded into a shadowy morning filled with promise.
Suddenly, without warning, to their amazement and joy, a blazing sun burst above the horizon, bathing the world in its comforting glow, the heavens a radiant blue, cloudless, and the air humming with songs of countless birds. At that very moment, a great trembling could be felt as the land literally erupted with life for as far as the eye could see. A jungle filled this musical universe until the land overflowed with every form of growing thing. Never had these children seen such variety and color that only a vision of the gods could make. Never could their hearts forget this moment so overpowering in majesty.
While the people gazed upon the surrounding beauty, they began to recognize that a whispering tune wafted upon the gentle breeze, a long-forgotten lullaby sung to them by their mother when they were small, too small to understand all the big things in the world around them. It went something like this:
‘Why, my dear one, do you cry
at the things you cannot see or touch?
I swaddle you in my loving arms
so no harm can you betide.
Do not dread what you do not know
or hide from the darkened night.
I ever so much will care for you
in my worlds of rich delights.
Listen, my child, to my heartbeat,
to the rhythm of love it shares with you.
Nuzzle close to my breasts with milk so sweet
and hear my heart’s love for you.’
The sweet refrains of the melodious tune dancing upon fields of honeysuckle, clover and daisies calmed the children’s hearts concerning the previous visions. Soon they were little more than distant memories, like troubling childhood dreams. Working like some powerful drug on a tired mind, the musical words played on each person’s soul, each one drifting into his or her private trance or dream. This was the state the people found themselves in, as if waking from a deep, restful sleep, when the vision returned them through time and space back to the Hall of Assembly and the moment.
Trisha had not moved, but was standing quietly beside her chair just as she had been before igniting the firestorm in the hearts of Lowenah’s children. Her eyes carried no expression of what the people had experienced, but her face revealed knowledge of the event. Was this woman, small of stature, quiet by nature, and with beauty of face that rivaled the gods, truly as dangerous as the vision depicted? The children stared at their mother, sitting motionless, a twinkle in her eyes the only clue that she was responsible for the previous adventure. Then, what of the field marshal? Who was she, really, and what kind of a person was she?
Before the others could collect their thoughts, a booming voice filled the room, calling out, “Behold ‘The Mountain Wall of Yehowah!’ See the king’s Sword, Foe Hammer, does live and stand among us! Kiss the Lady who has given us hope and bow low to her mistress who will deliver it! ” At that, Euroaquilo stood and bowed low at the waist, first toward Lowenah and then toward Trisha.
Other voices broke the silence, shouting, “Give her glory! Yes! Give glory to the One who has promised to become whatever she must to bring all things to a finish. Give Yehowah glory! ”
Soon the entire throng had broken into laughter and song. The Maker of Dreams had given them visions of the future. They would win! The universe would not end nor would their labors have been in vain. The room erupted in celebration unseen since the armistice ending the Great War. Mihai watched the joyous tumult with pleasure. In the end there was little to do other than formally accept Trisha as the new field marshal and pledge all fealty to her as Mihai had requested. This was concluded by having Trisha take her position on the raised platform before Mihai, she handing authority as field
marshal and dictator en force over to her. When finished, Mihai bowed low and returned to the council table.
There were many matters yet to be discussed and Trisha wasted little time getting down to them. In short order, the minor agenda items were concluded, appointments of deputies and magistrates being little more than formalities. Other items were as quickly dispatched. Trisha’s knowledge of the children’s customs and protocols was shown in the way she carried out business. Other than the unusual speed at which things were covered, she had done acceptably well, leaving most with the feeling that this outsider understood her place among the wisest of Lowenah’s children. Now, though, for the real test… Trisha must prove her leadership abilities in dealing with the upcoming business of the prisoner exchange.
Asotos had initiated the idea of a prisoner exchange and even its location, the lonely desert planet, EremiaPikros, that sat on the interstellar border between his nation called the ‘League of Brothers’ and Lowenah’s - now Mihai’s - called ‘The Children’s Empire’.
It was a no-man’s land of sorts, uninhabited except for the occasional short-lived ore colony or fur trader searching out the giant phimoosmurna desert rat, trapped for its tough, leathery hide and musk glands located behind its jowls, used in making Intarajarta myrrh.
Asotos had not attempted a prisoner exchange since the end of the Great War. Oh yes, his treachery in dealing with the children loyal to the Empire was notorious, but always clandestine. Abductions and murder were still favorite tools he employed when the mood struck him, but he always managed to keep his hands clean, feigning innocence in any conflict with or intrusion into the Children’s Empire. This time it was different.
Five months before, the howker, PuszzZet, and gun busses, Gihon and SarahMay, later joined by the cutter, Midnight out of Exothepobole engaged the barquentine, Righteous Knight, as it tried escaping back across the Frontier after pirating several merchant ships in the Outer Corridor, southeast of the Trizentine. A heated contest ensued, with Righteous Knight eventually striking its colors after its engine and boiler rooms were disabled and life support systems failed. The capture of Righteous Knight and its seventeen surviving crew provided clear evidence that Asotos was clandestinely violating the terms of the armistice ending the Great War.
Asotos, of course, denied any act of aggression on his part and charged that the captain of Righteous Knight was acting against orders, an easy accusation to make seeing that the man was killed in recent combat. This would have been the end of matters, the loss of an old barquentine and its few surviving crewmembers, except Legion, Asotos’
top lieutenant, was livid, having some very close confidants aboard including SalakTaqadam, a leading statesman and immediate lieutenant to Godenn, Legion’s second in command. He demanded that Asotos return his people to him, no matter the cost, thus forcing Asotos to first admit there might have been some misunderstanding on the captain’s part as to what his orders really were; and second, find a way to even the odds to make a prisoner exchange sway in his favor.
In the meantime, Mihai had ordered the carrier DorshanBerry and its task force to steam hard for the Trizentine in case hostilities should erupt in that region. Instead, Asotos averted a direct conflict by ‘picking the plum’, instigating the capture of Zephath’s crew by an armed detail of Stasis Pirates who, for a sufficient price, handed over their prisoners to Asotos’ people. By luck, Sirion, a most loved companion of
Mihai, was included among the prizes he obtained. It was after this discovery that Asotos began to hatch his big plan, using a prisoner exchange to accomplish it.
The new field marshal was little interested in the details concerning the prisoner exchange, she already having formulated a strategy. There was mischief afoot and the woman knew it. For forty years, she had studied Asotos’ intrigues, concluding that his primary method of operation was intimidation, consolation and finally, if all else failed, play the part of the victim. Few of Lowenah’s children were able to one-up his wily ways, but Trisha had a plan, one she had no intention of sharing, especially tonight.
Lowenah knew, realizing just how foolhardy, reckless and possibly damning it might be.
No matter what Trisha thought, she was no match for Asotos, her powers still underdeveloped and weak. But would Asotos know that, having never been so boldly confronted other than by Gabrielle, one who nearly equaled him in glory and power? If the new field marshal truly realized what danger she might be in, would the woman be able to pull off such a dangerous coup? Lowenah smiled. Trisha was oblivious to the depth of Asotos’ magic, thus ignorant of the danger. She might just succeed.
Trisha scanned the crowd, studying faces, most showing more a curiosity of children watching some strange creature under a looking glass than their new leader. Few reflected the respect or caring that had been given Mihai when she controlled the stage.
Others hid contempt behind placid eyes, wishing for this ‘pesky bug’ to fly away and bother them no more. Most, though, just sat quietly, politely, waiting and contemplating what this human specimen from the forgotten Realms Below had to offer as she stood the platform alone when Mother did not hold sway with her magic.
Trisha knew, as did all present, that Mother’s witchery was finished. Now the truth would be revealed. For thousands of years, prophecy concerning a coming ruler and his three Swords of justice that preceded him had been whispered among the people. For the many, their hope had been in what was called ‘Mother’s new creation’ raised to life, as was told in ancient myths and stories, to see the armies beyond the heavens swoop in to save the universe lost. Never was it assumed that children of dust, born in contempt and raised up in sickness and death should be the holy knights brought to rid their world of evil. Now Trisha must wake them to this fact. She and her kind held the fate of all creation, living and dead, in their hands. It had been left up to this woman to prove it, starting tonight.
All these things Trisha could see…feel, you might say. For forty years, she had felt it, the sudden quiet of a wardroom when she entered unannounced, the polite dismissal of her opinions during a council, even the coolness often felt when at general mess. She had done nothing to deserve such treatment. She should not be the cause of the children’s resentment. They had failed to bring evil to its end and their mother, her God, decided to use other forces to accomplish that. Trisha never asked to be brought here. She did not deserve such treatment.
Her eyes narrowed in thought. Weren’t these the guardians of the universe, the very faces of God that faithful, honest men like John had once bowed to in honor? Who were they to look down on her and the others of her kind gathered into their world? Well, tonight they would not dare to look down on her again! The universe was now changed.
Trisha’s hands closed into tense fists.
Tears welled up in Trisha’s eyes. ‘Harlot!’ ‘Whore! ’Adulteress!’ She had long ago paid for that one night of love, one night of bliss out of a lifetime of toil, pain and grief.
For that one night, she suffered the stares of the village people, the whispers as she passed, the quiet rooms she entered. For one night...that one night when she was held by a man who really loved her, for that one night that her heart smiled, she had paid, been forced to pay the bigots and belligerent people who considered themselves so superior to this…this…creature, this polluter of their perfect world. Tonight she again felt the stares of those believing themselves superior to her.
Fighting back tears, Trisha forced a smile of defiance. Tonight… tonight was to be different! Tonight the universe would be waked by a force greater than any experienced by these people! When finished this eve, things would be different! The people of this world might not love her or respect her, but they would certainly fear her…her and all her kind settled into this universe!
Lowenah frowned in sadness, remembering a conversation spoken in the solitude of a darkened room on a breathless night. ‘You have delivered the storm to this world. Did you not know that your children would bleed, theirs souls scattered across the star systems by this righteous evil from the depths below?’ And then the final whispers in her ear. ‘A ruin, a ruin, a ruin I shall make it. Are they not your very prophecies made upon your own children? Let matters run their course. Allow the girl to grow into a woman.
She will one day come to love your children, but blood must first flow. Death precedes life, remember? The seed must die to be born again and fruit. Let her winnow the field with an iron rod so that your children shall remember this day and never permit wickedness to rise again.’
Lowenah bowed her head, sighing to herself, “It’s time. Lift the sword and unleash the midnight…” Unlike their earlier visions, the people were now to see the real Sword, Ruby, unsheathed, its true, shimmering metal revealed in all its naked glory.
Clasping her hands behind her back, Trisha began to slowly pace the circular platform, the hard heels of her boots singing out sharply as they hit the polished, marble floor. ‘ Click! Click! Click! Click! ’ Round and round the woman walked, creating a harmonic chant, her steps painfully hammered into hundreds of distraught ears. As rushing blood roaring through a restless mind on a silent night, the piercing tempest grew maddening on the weary souls gathered in the chamber.
At the very moment a body felt it would implode into insanity, Trisha stopped, silent.
Then, slowly turning away from the crowd, looking at a closed doorway as though expecting someone to enter, she began, cold and expressionless as a frost-laden morning.
The latent power of immeasurable strength hiding within her breasts lay just beneath the surface, each word, each phrase hinting at its explosive anger. They were deceptively innocent to the ears, but burned with a warning of the power of the beast within that panted to be unleashed.
“As you know, Zephath fell victim to the vicious attacks of a Stasis Pirate fleet, the crew scuttling it before their capture.” She spun around, facing the surprised crowd.
“What fool believes that!? No pirate fleet in this universe has the power to take on a ship the size of Zephath! The Stasis are cowards! Cowards! If confronted by such a warcraft, they’d piss in their boots!”
The people gasped at Trisha’s crude way with words at such a formal event. She paid no attention to them.
The new field marshal went on to disclose the extent of information the investigation uncovered, from distress signals to finding the ship’s log, Mihai’s adventures as she
followed the enemy’s trail. When the woman finished providing an overview of the capture of the crew and Asotos’ contacting the Children’s Empire seeking a parley, she addressed the council as to their responsibilities.
The new commander of Mihai’s armies turned toward the wise and the aged, a tone of motherly disappointment dancing on her tongue. “It is not the responsibility of this council to conclude what happened, something I suppose that could consume many evenings and mornings of social posturing and debate. You must decide this very eve and not tomorrow on what shall be done and how, and who shall confront the Dragon.”
Some faces reddened in anger, others clouded with discontent. Mihai frowned, staring down at her clasped hands resting on the table. Lowenah smiled to herself.
‘About time someone stirred the fire of self-content...’
Trisha began pointing and waving her hands, gesturing, “The Dragon plays with your minds while he hides his true machinations in the shadows and uses your innocence and naivete to mislead you. He is too evil to lie with boldness, but twists your minds and hearts with truth hidden in riddles and deceit. By leaving you clues that he believes only a fool would overlook, he justifies his treachery and cruelty toward all of you.”
The new field marshal was not winning any friends. A cold disquiet was growing in the room, and it would only become more intense. Staring directly into Mihai’s eyes, Trisha accused, “Even the greatest of your warriors has walked, do walk blindly into harm’s way because they fail or are unwilling to understand their brother’s tricks.”
Mihai looked away, shamed by Trisha’s blatant truthfulness.
Trisha paid no visible heed as she spoke to the entire body of counselors, staring first at one and then another. “You see the signs, but do not understand them. You allow your brother to play puppet-master with your minds by doing his bidding. Some of you fall to his evil and do not get back up. Some of you have fallen, but still cry loyalty to your cause.” She stared at Euroaquilo. “Others have fallen, do fall but take the blow and learn, and survive to fight another time.” Turning and looking up at the crowd, she cried,
“Any who forget why they are fighting and the evil their enemy possesses will fall! ”
Silence! The beast had stopped disgorging its fire for the moment. Trisha began to slowly and deliberately pace anew. Head down, with hands clasped behind her back, the woman retraced her steps around the outer ring of the raised circular platform. Again, the harmonic rhythm of the ‘ click’ of her boots played out to the audience, but quieter and more subdued this time. When she stopped, it was to face and again address the seated council.
Trisha’s piercing gaze searched the counselors, they reacting as if a personal message was being delivered upon each one of them. Some turned to glance away.
Others glared defiance and disapproval while still others slowly closed their eyes as if surrendering to acknowledging a secret failure. And a few smiled, nodding approval.
Finally, Trisha’s eyes fell upon Mihai. A chill flooded Mihai’s mind, like a cold winter wind preceding a tempest. Out of that wind, a voice called, “He is waiting for you… Do you not see the adder at your heel? He has done all these things because of you. Beware the morning of your new life and fear the last hours of your childhood.
Accept your death into a new life and be aware of the hour of ascent, the hour of despair.” Trisha was referring to the day of Mihai’s attempted murder.
Mihai tried turning away from Trisha’s daunting stare, but could not…not until Trisha permitted it. The haunting voice pummeled her more. “This time you must face
the Dragon and he will strike you a mortal blow. Take the blow and keep on living. Do not strike back! Do not strike back! Take the blow in death and all will live. Be warned!
If you listen to your heart, all will be lost. Be silent and your sister may live.”
All eyes looked to Mihai as she let out a cry, lifting a hand to her head. Her hands began to shake as sweat collected on her face, running in tiny rivulets from her chin. The people’s eyes slowly shifted away from their beloved king to the ominous figure standing before them. Who was this creature from forgotten lands? How could a woman so unimpressive in stature and, though beautiful, but not outstandingly so…how could she command such power? There was something more about her, something so base and vile, carrying with her the smell of death like the unforgiven souls of the damned, the Stasis and lost, the demons haunting their world.
Trisha cried out to those gathered, “Stand down and do not listen to your hearts! ”
Was there a tone of love and compassion in this creature’s voice? Many wished it so, the witch standing before them charging them with the error of ages, condemning their kind for being poor stewards. A shudder ran through the crowd, - a mind, twisted, they could feel. It was as if the madness of the Dragon, himself, was breathing upon their flesh, burning away all hope. But there was more about this woman that seared their bellies and tore at their hearts. Her very words carried the smell of bloodlust upon them, a craving for war, death and destruction. This woman was yearning for war, for slaughter, for the death of things precious to the children of this universe.
Trisha admonished, “You must listen carefully to me and gain discernment so as to find clues hidden in the words you hear. Not everything is as it sounds, and not every soul is true to life and cause. Good air may well smell foul and poisoned air may revive the spirit unto death. To choose the right course, one must find the right path. To preserve alive the souls of many, you must be willing to allow them death.” She raised her hand, extending a finger. “A crow is not a raven!”
Murmuring arose among the people. Who was this forgotten creature of so few days to play at their game of riddles? How foolish she was, so immature! Did this little child not understand the depth of knowledge and wisdom carried in the collective minds of the wise and ancient ones gathered before her? Was Mother only toying with them? Some glanced toward her.
Trisha saw their folly and cried out, “You think me a fool?! Look and see! The death angel resides among you!” She pointed toward someone hidden in the crowd.
“Until she who carries the Devil’s spawn gives birth to a new creation will your world stand upon the edge of midnight. The Sisters of the BloodWind must pass away into nothing before the great and fear-inspiring day of my God. But in their rebirth shall all men quail, because they are the trinity of good, bad, and evil. And when the spear of jade pierces the heart of the Queen of Darkness shall all the world know that by evil shall evil be brought to nothing!”
Shocking prophecy! All eyes turned from Trisha to Lowenah, seeking explanation for this outburst. No book of wisdom ever contained such future statements! What was Mother up to? They found no answer, only consternation. Lowenah was leaned forward from her chair, eyes opened wide, she herself seeking answers to her field marshal’s troubling riddles. She was finding none.
What was it, then? Had this woman dared to tell of future events by using the wisdom of her own reckoning? The children searched Lowenah’s eyes. No, her eyes
were not accusative. Indeed, what they saw was even more troubling. A cloud of dark recognition passed across Lowenah’s face, she hiding it in shadow by lowering her head while sliding back in her chair and staring toward her lap. Something was up with Mother, something so disturbing to her that she found no place to expunge it from her mind. The children could tell she was dealing with some unexpected event that was most disconcerting.
Wasn’t Mother the Maker of Prophecy? If so, then why was she so disturbed? If the new field marshal had invented it, surely Mother would have revealed it to be so, but she said nothing. Were there other forces at work, forces that acted independently of the Maker of Worlds? How was that possible? But if there were… If it was so, might those forces be using this strange creature for purposes of their own design? As if this collective thought swept the crowd at the same moment, the room quieted to a hush and all eyes turned once more to the woman on the raised platform.
Trisha spoke again, and although sharp and accusative were her words, no one dared rise in ire against them. A power strange and terrible had filled their hearts and all with wisdom bent an ear to listen to what that power was revealing. Trisha’s voice calmed and, along with the passing of any contemptuous tone, she continued.
“You think me a fool? I tell you this, and I tell you this for your own good. You swim so deep, you do not see the surface of a tricksy sea. The rocks on the bottom you take while the silent ships of honest fate sail out of your grasp. I sound like a child to you because I speak to you in the simple tongue of a camel maiden, not some great orator.
But I can read your minds, lands lost in simple thoughts.”
She frowned. “The future promised smells foul to you, the old wine being so sweet in your thoughts. It poisons your minds, making you dream longingly for the past. Oh, you try to do the right thing, but you soon tire because your labors are without objective, your hearts seeking only the warm hearth and numbing wine.”
Slamming her fist into an opened palm, Trisha raised her voice in warning. “If you truly desire to see the healing of the universe, you must put those feelings behind you!
Let the dead rest in forgetful bliss. In doing so, you will give them a home to return to.”
Trisha again took to pacing, her hands once more clasped behind her back. “To the common eye, two ravens may well look the same, yet both may be so different. One is smart and full of tricks, the other filled with an insatiable desire to fill its own belly. One may destroy your field for reasons untold. The other may seek only to destroy you. By the raven, men have lived and men have died. A raven has delivered meat to feed the flesh and another has devoured the flesh to satisfy itself.” She raised a hand in gesture.
“To identify what kind of bird searches you out is only half the victory. To identify its motive is the other half.”
Lowering her eyes toward the floor, Trisha went on. “There are two ravens among you, but many crows. The crows are ever present, and not are they just in your enemy’s camp. Crows seek only their own selfish longing, and are easily led into evil deeds by a crafty raven. Your brother is the raven of which I speak. You must learn how he tricks and riddles with you and you must learn to see how his crows circle above, waiting upon your mistakes.”
“Your Mother is also a raven, and though she may well bring gloom and despair upon her wings, along with those things she carries life through her tricks and riddles.
Both ravens will use tricks and riddles. Both will deliver you to ill or good. Both will
cause you to fall and not get up again. But only one will return life to your flesh.” She stopped, waving her hands. “You must learn how to understand them… both of them.”
There was a growing turmoil in the room, a restlessness of spirit and heart. How the people viewed this woman was of little concern to her at this moment. Now was the time for action. After all, should this life be any different than her last? Where was this promised new world , filled with peace and delights? Had she not seen only violence and war from the very day of her entering this paradise? No, better is it to leave people hate you and to deliver their souls than to love them with the gift of eternal damnation.
Trisha did not let up. She continued on with her chastisement of this people. For over an hour she lectured, condemned and chided them for their failures. From the time of the First Megiddo War up through the Great War and down until this evening, she stripped away their raiment of self worth and sacrifice, revealing the naked skeleton of the straw man dancing merrily in the light of a blazing inferno. The people were reeling from the blows of Foe Hammer. It was beating them down, exhausting their resistance, mocking their very existence. One person…one small, demure creature…stood upon the bulwark of destiny, crushing their longed-for visions, pulverizing those visions and casting their dust into a raging sea.
Trisha suddenly stopped her tirade, the silence nearly as damning as her speech.
Was she finished? No! The full fury of the tempest was not over. She must yet conclude. Staring into the faces in the crowd, she declared, “I came to this evil place through no will of my own, I being drawn back from death to suffer this life. My people and their cities…everything concerning them is gone, lost beneath the restless sands. My own sons lie forgotten, buried in the unmarked graves where no tomb recalls their deeds or names. There is no one here to share my past or my memories with, I being of so little value that none of your kind wasted their time to know me then. Still, I ask none of you for consolation for my loss.
“Though unworthy of your thoughts in ages past, I will haunt your dreams throughout future days, you wishing I was become a miscarriage in birth. Look! I am come from the other side of your nightmares and have gathered them up before me! I am everything you hate and everything you fear, a soul twisted and deformed! I am your looking glass! See! I am the Lord of Darkness and I glory in destruction!”
She turned toward Mihai and spat, shaking an accusative finger at her, “I will not fight to save the past, but I will consume all that is good to deliver the future. You have unleashed the midnight, and you can’t stop it!” Then pounding her chest, she cried in rebuke, “I rule this world now, and you will not contend against me! You know what I do must be done, and damn all who resist my will! ”
Trisha stood back, addressing the stunned crowd, “You promised your allegiance to me without question and I shall exact that loyalty with your blood. The fear of me is the beginning of wisdom, because I am only a shadow of the one coming after me. You prayed for this day and I will make you regret it has been delivered upon you…” She rested closed fists upon her hips, shaking her head. “And yet this day is not as foreboding as the one Shiloh will collect unto you. Rachel will weep over her own children on the day of his arrival and he will not listen to her plaintive cries for succor.”
Trisha’s dander was up, unleashing it upon those present. “I do not ask for your love, nor do I seek your honor or respect, but I demand your souls to do with as I see fit!
We…we no longer fight for our past, our future or even ourselves, for you live and can
remember the past and yearn for the future. We fight only for those who cannot decide the battle, and we will sacrifice our blood to restore them to life! Their destiny rests in our hands! Their future depends on our actions. If you are not with me, you are my enemy and an enemy to all who have gone before us! ” She shouted, “Brothers! If we fail, their souls are lost forever! If we do not win this coming conflagration, Elijah will not come, and we shall all pass on to the fate of those who have gone before us!”
Smashing her fist into an opened hand, she proclaimed, “WE…WILL…NOT…FAIL! ”
Silence like that of an empty tomb filled the room. At that instant, a door opened high in the back of the old theater. Eyes glared down at the troublesome creature below.
The thick passage walls may have muffled her words, but her mocking tone and demeaning nature sounded through clearly. “Its evil smells putrid to my nostrils. Foul…
foul… It clouds my vision so bad, it reeks with Serpent stink.” Shaking its head while hiding in deep shadows, the observer asked itself, “Why do these fools not sense the monster below? Why do they accept such malcontent?”
Just then, the giant wall clock struck eleven bells. Looking up at it, the voice muttered in disgust, “One still warm in its blood I must remove to a secret place. This confederate I shall have to deal with at another time. Another time I shall exact punishment for all the wickedness it does this eve. I will find the hour and place. I will wait, and then… and then...” The passage door quietly closed as the sound of footsteps faded away into the darkness.
Silence pressed in on the people with suffocating harshness. What had this woman done? A few were beginning to recognize it. A few… Knowledge comes at a price.
Often little notice is given it because such wisdom comes subtly, like a child maturing into adulthood. Other times it rushes in like a raging storm upon a quiet sea. Those who survive wish for the tempest to have never happened, yet they would not trade lessons learned to make it thus. And so it was this night. A great and terrible storm had raged against the collective souls of those gathered here, tearing away flesh and spirit, destroying dreams and hopes.
Still, one day the children of this Dark Age would wear with pride the scars and stripes of the master’s rod, pointing to them as proof that he or she had faced the Dragon’s wrath and proved their metal. But that was for the future. They must first survive this night’s storm. Was there anyone among them with the strength to save them? Was there anyone who would speak out in their defense?
Finally, a person slowly rose like a great giant among men, standing tall as he faced their accuser. Euroaquilo stared into Trisha’s eyes, his eyes piercingly sharp with emotion. His furrowed brow and set jaw gave pause to those observing him. All waited for him to release the tempest upon this creature from the depths below. Who could stand against the wisdom and wrath of the mighty StormWind? He would speak in their defense. He would put this rabble in its place!
Euroaquilo quickly turned toward Lowenah, thanking her for the many good things she had provided her children over these many lifetimes of men. Bowing low at the waist, he remained still for several moments, showing her the honor deserved. When finished, he again faced the new field marshal. Now was the moment. Euroaquilo would restore the children’s honor, true, but in a most unexpected way.
He bowed low again, much to the surprise of many. When he stood up, light sparkled off a tear on his cheek. With his booming voice, the man called out, “My Lord,
my Lady, do please forgive this people for our indiscretions we have heaped upon you.
Our souls have seen only the pain of a world turned upside down, we losing our ability to see the picture you have painted for us this night. Thank you for your honesty to the point of dealing us a blow that might well save us from ourselves.”
Euroaquilo extended his arms, spreading his hands wide as he did so. “I am your humble servant and I hope to speak for all. Our fates are but one, your breath one with ours. Shall you be cut, we will bleed; shall you cry, we will pine in sorrow. My Lord, you have taught us powerful lessons this night. Teach us, please, how to learn from them.” He bowed again, and upon standing, added, “My sister, my blood, in death and in life!”
A shout came from above, “Amen and amen! Our sister, our blood! ” Darla stood, all eyes transfixed upon this crazy child. She began to applaud.
Another voice called out, “Our sister! Our blood! Stand and give our sister the glory deserved!” No one moved.
Frowning, Zadar shouted, “Stand and give our sister her deserved glory or be forever shamed!”
PalaHar, followed by Tizrela and other members of the council stood, repeating Euroaquilo’s words. Soon the entire room was standing in applause, expressing their approval of their new sister. Trisha’s speech was beginning to take on meaning, those in the room growing in understanding. Asotos’ spell over the children was cracking.
Euroaquilo had broken open the floodgates to this new understanding, but it was the energy and power of the new field marshal that brought the flood. Scales were beginning to fall from the children’s eyes. Though not yet realizing it themselves, Trisha had captured their hearts. Their minds and souls were soon to follow.
Trisha did not move, nor did her expression change. What she felt inside remained secret to all. Finally, when the room had settled down, she turned toward Ardon and, in a tone veiling any emotion, she asked, “Lord Ardon, please stand in…”
Without waiting for his response or looking to the crowd for their reaction, Trisha turned away, stepped from the platform and quietly hurried from the chamber, closing the door behind her. The silent, stunned crowd stared dumbly at the door, expecting it to fly open momentarily, their new leader rushing in to resume her fiery oratories.
* * *
Zadar was hopeful that the new field marshal was still in the palace, possibly squirreled away in some hidden part of this lower section. He had slipped through a side door to find Trisha soon after she left the chamber . Checking with the door wardens, they all told him the same thing...no woman fitting her description passed their way.
Other than the tramwaiters there was no other common exit, and he doubted the woman was familiar enough with this place to know of the more secret exits.
The Upper Palace complexes had been quiet and subdued, the evening being late and the council meeting still lasting well into the night. Even down here, along the Grand Concourse, few were the visitors at this hour. Most of the shops and eateries were closed and those remaining open were nearly empty. As Zadar poked his head in one after another of the taverns and dining establishments, he remained confident that his search would end successfully.
Trisha was little more than a stranger to Zadar, they having met just this afternoon at a late luncheon, and that so casually. Though cordial, the woman had been distant, even cool toward his pleasantries. Yet something happened during that brief encounter that troubled Zadar very much. And his spirit had only become more troubled as he escorted her around the council chambers earlier that eve. The man’s ardor was easily aroused, but it was not for that reason he was determined to find this strange creature. If it was for romance or a release of his passions, why put forth such effort? Many were the women available and willing to be romanced by this most charming of fellows. No, something burned in Zadar’s heart. It called to him with urgency. What it was, he did not know, but it grew in power as the moments passed.
The man was well beyond the Winter Gardens on the North Concourse when he felt it wise to pay a visit upon the South Palace apartments, a complex set aside for visiting guests. Returning along the concourse, he again pondered the reason for his urgency.
Could it be he needed to make Trisha understand that his people were not as foolish and selfish as she accused, that she must give them time to learn? True as it may well have been, other forces were busy that night as well. Zadar’s relentless search frustrated at least one other soul. Angry eyes soon departed searching for their elusive victim, this fellow being an intrusive nuisance, thus saving the Empire from possible catastrophe.
Retracing his steps, Zadar hurried by the Winter Gardens on his way to the Southern Concourse tramwaiter. The cool, moist air of the gardens beckoned him to suck in a deep breath as he passed the golden fountains at the apex of the garden’s fingers trailing out along each of the four main thoroughfares where the concourses intersected. Zadar could not help but inhale another intoxicating breath of delightful fragrances, sweet and pungent, the gardens ablaze with so many varieties of flowers.
He suddenly froze. That was odd. Not all the smells floating upon the breeze belonged to the flowers of the Winter Gardens. Jasmine spice mixed with the scent of orange and apple blossoms titillated Zadar’s nostrils. The concoction was made by a wizard’s hands long ago and given by that wizard, PalaHar, to Mihai as a gift of his appreciation and love. And Mihai was wearing that enchanting fragrance this very eve when she had come to the council. Then how was it that scent drifted upon the breeze in this location, for Mihai was still at the council meeting, it not being finished yet?
Snapping his fingers, Zadar smiled, answering his own question in whispered breath.
“My Lady gave the woman a hug this night. That magic of Lord PalaHar’s is powerful, clinging to all it touches.” He lifted his arm, noting the intoxicating fragrance on his own sleeve. Without hesitation, the man vanished into the garden’s thick jungle of exotic greenery.
Melodious splashing of the water fountain was all Zadar could hear in this upper part of the Winter Gardens, making it impossible for him to listen for clues that might reveal where his prize was hiding. Oh, she was here. He could smell it and feel it as well. Her spirit haunted him, the woman’s energy being strong with emotion, but where she was continued to mystify him.
Not that the gardens were an easy place to find someone even if they were not secluded in a private nook. First, they were quite large, being over an acre in size, with a labyrinth of narrow walkways and tiny nooks and crannies where romantic couples could secret themselves away for some special, private time…indeed, the very reason for such design. The water fountains, rock formations, trails and terraces had been built so as to
create an illusion of solitude in the middle of a crowded world. Zadar had to depend on his sight and smell if he was to be successful here.
For over twenty minutes, Zadar searched and, as always, the hunt returned him to this one spot, the waterfalls at the northern end of the garden. “Twenty times I’ve been here!” he huffed. Still, he could find no clue to where this mysterious woman had gone.
“She is not some flitting spirit without flesh and body. She must be near, for my nose tells me it is so.”
Bending low to study the edge of the flagstone path, Zadar noticed a depression in the soil. Sure enough, a shoe with a hardened sole made it. And there...another depression after that, newly made, for the disturbed earth was still moist and packed by the weight pressing down upon it. Zadar hurried along, seeking further evidence of the trail’s direction. It ran toward the waterfall and then down beside a rushing stream the tempestuous falls created until they turned into a little, fast-running stream hemmed in by a steep, hewn granite canyon. From there, Zadar worked his way down that stream, along a narrow ledge used by maintenance workers to clean debris from the water.
The splashing waters made his going slippery, Zadar almost tumbling into the ever-growing tumult on more than one occasion. From the look of things, it appeared that he was not the only person finding the journey awkward. There were several places where growing lichens were raggedly torn by some misstep or other. Ahead, the man could see a sharp turn in the narrow canyon, this also being the place where several more streams collected, turning the watercourse into a rumbling torrent.
Zadar knew…for he had searched this watercourse many times in his younger days…that the noisy tempest would soon widen, slowing the watercourse. Just a short ways and it would plummet down a giant, carved sluice, taking it far below into an immense cistern, only to be gathered up by huge pumps and returned to the Winter Garden’s many water fountains and bubbling pools.
Gingerly working his way around a bend and through some limbs fallen from a dense tree canopy, Zadar finally managed to find his way around that bend and peer down the stream to where it passed under a footbridge before disappearing into the darkness below, that graceful footbridge arched high above, it crossing a ravine at the terrace level of the Gardens. The abutment of the soaring structure, hewn from obsidian basalt, its base jutting out like a bench where the waters were gathered together, again caused the stream to pick up its pace before plunging into the noisy abyss.
Zadar grinned, breathing a sigh of relief that his search was finished. There, hidden in the shadows of the bridge’s superstructure, was the object of his intense pursuit.
Trisha sat quietly, hunched forward with elbows resting on her knees, head down, staring into the chattering stream. Her finely embroidered military jacket and ornate kepi lay jumbled on the ledge beside her feet, and ringlets of the woman’s silky brunette hair fell carelessly about her face.
His grin quickly faded. From this distance, he could see that the woman appeared to be quietly weeping, or had been. A sudden wave of remorse swept across the man’s heart. He had intruded into a very private world, one better left to the grieving soul. Yes, that was it. Trisha’s appearance was that of a person grieving. Here was Foe Hammer in tears! This person, this ‘savage and heartless monster of the Children’s Empire’, a person willing to sink all souls into the depths of Hell for a holy cause, this person was weeping.
Zadar could only see a child, a very fragile child trying to save a rebellious, arrogant
people whom she loved - or wanted so much to love - and she willing to surrender her heart and soul to repurchase theirs. Zadar became overwhelmed with the urge to cry over this woman’s agony. Never before had his heart ached so over another’s loss.
Choosing to leave the night to itself, Zadar started to retrace his steps only to be halted by Trisha’s bitter rebuff. “I thought if anyone would search me out, it’d be you.”
Jolted by her words, Zadar slipped, almost falling into the chill waters. Trisha did not move or even look up.
Regaining his balance, he blurted out, “I… I was concerned and came looking for…”
Trisha glared, interrupting caustically, “…a quick one? A new rose to pluck for your amusement? You wasted no time with that leftenant this afternoon. Had her nearly naked before you were to the tramwaiter…”
Zadar recoiled at Trisha’s stinging rebuke, attempting a reply, but stood, speechless.
Patting the stone ledge as she turned to watch the stream, Trisha sighed in surrender,
“Come here and sit down. You have found me...”
Zadar cautiously made his way into the cool shadows, stopping to study this strangest of all creatures before sitting. After doing so, he said, “You’ve been crying…”
Trisha snapped, “That’s none of your business! Now speak of other matters.”
Nodding obediently, Zadar asked, “Why did you expect me?”
Trisha tossed a short stick lying close by into the water, watching until the stream carried it from sight. “I didn’t expect you or anyone, for that matter.” She turned and stared into Zadar’s face. “I believed if anyone came, it would be you.”
“Why me?!” Zadar quizzed, surprised. “Lord PalaHar, Admiral Euroaquilo, why, even our new king, Mihai, any one of them was as likely a candidate.”
Trisha frowned, replying sourly, “You’re quite the lady’s man, aren’t you? Catch a scent and off you go in a rut. You’re like a bull in a herd…sniff her, poke her, pull it out and sniff another…work your way through the herd until a new heifer arrives, and then it’s all attention on her ‘til she gets a poke, too.”
Trisha’s comments hit Zadar like a hard slap across the face. Finally, a little put off, he answered, “It is true that I delight in the field of lilies, my sisters making my love nests many, and me revisiting them often. But never have I forced my attention upon a lovely one of Lowenah’s, nor have I acted like a buck in rut with my lovemaking. And…and that is not the reason I searched you out this night.”
“Oh, really?!” Trisha’s accusation was nearing abuse. “I watched you glance at my form, your eyes studying my breasts as we wandered the council chambers. I’ve seen you stare at them here, while we talk.” She eyed him. “Tell me the truth. Should I offer myself to you at this moment, would you be man enough to leave me my dignity?”
His face flushing red with anger, Zadar bit his lip to constrain the retort his heart wanted to offer. ‘Better take the blow and look weak and foolish…’ Euroaquilo once warned him, ‘than to offer battle and prove it’. At length, Zadar replied, “I am sorry that you believe my motives so prurient. Whether I am a man of honor or not cannot be debated between two opponents. The light of sun reveals all secrets. I shall wait upon its arrival to prove to you the man I am.”
Trisha was studying him while he pondered and replied. She felt guilt of heart for accusing the fellow of such beastly qualities, but she could not offer apology - not now, or she might lose all control and fall into a wailing lament. The night was already tearing away at her heart - a woman and mother forced to watch a child die in her arms, to listen
to her sons rebuke her, casting lots against her so that the men of the village piously castigated her for one act of adultery against a drunkard and bully.
She turned her head away to hide a tear as she recalled, “I come from a world where even good men would force themselves upon a woman, passionately releasing their ardor upon her, forcing her into a servitude of silent torment until she was old and worn out, then casting her aside like some worthless baggage.”
A resigned bitterness was carried on her words. “And then, should we fall during a moment of wishful escape, even the very men who led us in our worship would publicly humiliate us before the gathering, saying that what was done to us by our village elders was but small retribution for such an evil act. And then, those same men who publicly shamed us for our sins would secretly desire our flesh for themselves, repeatedly asking us in detail about our adventurous fornications while, with long faces, shaking their heads in disapproval.”
Trisha hung her head in sadness. “I was an old woman when I died in that forgotten land so long ago…well, at least I was considered old by the standards of the day. My friends, few friends were all gone by then. My husband having taken a younger woman for himself and my sons having abandoned me, I was left to fend on my own, hunched over from rheumatism and unable to work the fields, and no longer good-looking.” She pulled on her jowls. “My wrinkles were many, my skin hanging loose around my chin.
My large, firm breasts that, as a flirtatious maiden, I would flaunt by the way I tied my robes, were flat and empty of youth, and my belly sagged from the many children I bore.
I was a useless, ugly old woman. At best, the men ignored me. Others would call me names, ‘old hag’, ‘dung bag’, or even worse. I did not regret my passing from that world.
I remember smiling when I felt that last breath.”
Trisha reached over and took Zadar’s hand, looking into his eyes. “When I entered your world, I’d been asleep for nearly two millenium. My joy at arriving here was overwhelming. Your mother…my God…and my Lord, Mihai, worked so hard to make me feel welcomed. I truly appreciate the things they did for me, but alas, my past has followed me here, at least in spirit. I have resided here many years but feel much like the worthless old hag I became before my death. Your people have not cared to find out who I am. Their empty and sometimes hostile stares are often my reward for entry here.
“Zadar, do you know what it is like to lose everything that is yours and have no one even remember your name? The desert wind ever blows over the ruins of my village. It was not large or important, but it was my home and life, good or bad, it was what and who I was. No one cared to know me then. Even Mihai did not remember me. Oh yes, your mother knows me and loves me very much. Yet it is her witchery that has delivered me to this tormented land, a place giving me very little refreshment.”
She looked around, wistfully commenting, “This place reminds me of home. Near my village there was a drainage ditch with a small overhang near a rock wall where the water entered a tiny pool. It didn’t always smell nice, especially when the herders brought their animals to town, but it was secluded and away from prying eyes.”
Trisha paused to search for the right words. “When I was a little girl, my father…
who was really a very good man… would take to beating us when the wine took hold of him. We children would all attempt to find places to hide from his wrath, hoping he would not come searching. I found a haven in that drainage ditch, disappearing under the overhang until it was safe to return home. There I played at whatever I wished to be,
creating pretend playmates and going on wonderful adventures. Zadar, it was the one and only place in my life where I always felt secure and free to be who I really was.”
Moments slowly passed. Zadar reflected on Trisha’s tales of her life, reliving the emotion of her childhood years long ago. Trisha finally broke the silence. “This place makes me feel secure.” She glanced into Zadar’s face, exclaiming, “You shed a tear! In my world, a man would be shamed if he cried in front of a woman.” Like a caring mother, she reached up, brushing it away.
Smiling sadly, Zadar replied, “The men of this world find no shame in tears or weeping. Our manliness is not based on some emotional premise that women, alone, may exercise freedom of feelings.”
Trisha nodded. “That’s one example of just how different our worlds are… or were… at least as I recall the world of my day.”
Zadar responded, “It’s changed little, I assure you.”
Gazing into the bubbling waters, Trisha sadly lamented, “Mihai has told me that I, alone, was selected from all the people of my kind to be gathered here, and for a special purpose. Oh yes, she promised me that after the Ending Days, many of my people would return to the lands of the living, but… but, for the moment, I stand the bulwark of Time alone, a stranger in a strange land. Only one other person do I know from my old days.
When I was young and full of zeal for my new religion, I happened upon Paul in my travels to a distant city. He says that he does not recollect me, though I did have a word with him at that time.”
She slowly shook her head. “I was a nobody in the eyes of my village people and those I worshiped with, a silly chatterer, always thinking sideways of the others. My only true companion, my mother, died before my twelfth birthday, leaving me to the mercies of a father not able to feed all the children he had. I was shuttled around among my family until, finally, the old miller took me for a wife and he paid little more attention to me than to satisfy his passions. After he passed away, his no-good son came to possess me, and treated me even worse. I doubt anyone noted my death until the room I died in was consumed with stink…and I imagine they only cursed me for such rudeness.
“I asked Lowenah once why she brought me here, something far beyond my understanding. She just laughed and, with a twinkle in her eye, answered, ‘I may have mistaken you for another, oh, someone so much more important, you know? Oops! How careless of me… Well, when I discovered the mistake, what was there to do but let you stay?’ That’s Lowenah…she always tries so hard to lift your spirits.”
Zadar laughed, grinning, “At least you were given a reason. Most who ask find themselves staring into a troubled face looking puzzled. Finally Mother will reply that she really doesn’t quite know and, for the life of her, she can’t figure out what to do with them now that they’re here.” His eyes twinkled as a smile grew on his face. “When I was a little one, I asked Mother why I was born. She became serious and, leaning close, saying her words only for my ears, she answered, ‘I was so wanting some dumplings for my stewpot. Well, you know, I thought about it with such intent that, oops! out popped you, my little dumpling.’ She gleefully rubbed her hands together and then she became oh so sad, lamenting, ‘When I went to find the stewpot, I discovered it was missing.
When I find it, we’ll make the stew then.’”
Zadar laughed once more. “I tell you, for the longest time, when someone requested stew for supper, you could count on little Zadar taking flight, hiding in some secluded corner of the palace until he thought it safe to come out again.”
Trisha smiled, thinking of a little Zadar, much like her own sons, hiding in a secret corner or hiding under the palace furniture, fearing he was being hunted down to be thrown into the cooking pot. She looked into Zadar’s eyes, her sadness fading. “Thank you. Your tale not only rekindles pleasant memories, but it increases my understanding concerning the ways and thinking of your people.”
Zadar asked how that was so. He received no reply. Trisha looked away, returning her stare to the cold waters hurrying toward their eventual fate. At length, she asked,
“Zadar, are you good at keeping secrets, I mean secrets that a troubled heart even refuses to acknowledge?”
Puzzled, Zadar pondered in thought. His people played at riddles and guessing games, sometimes in most serious ways, but secrets? Secrets were few, he experiencing them as the tools of war when openness could be fatal. He knew that Trisha was not speaking of a military secret yet, to her, what she wanted to reveal must be as important.
He finally nodded, “One secret should be easy enough for me to keep. All right, I promise.”
Trisha stared into Zadar’s eyes for the longest time, a sadness escaping hers. At length, she looked away and sighed, “I have watched how your men look at me, at least until they discover who I am. They undress me in their mind, seeking to find the flesh hidden under my flowing capes.” Turning her gaze back to Zadar, Trisha bemoaned,
“Oh, I know the beauty I possess now. I see it in the mirrors. But…but I feel old - old and ugly inside, like the hag I had become in my old age. And…and I have come to despise the looks of honest men, feeling them to be little more than ravenous stares of beasts seeking to use my flesh as a tool to release their passion. I feel like my body is craved for, to become little more than a replacement for a tired hand, working an excited organ of pleasure.”
Lowering her head and speaking in just above a forlorn whisper, the woman from lost years lamented, “I wish so badly to feel young again, to trust…to trust like a maiden trusts when a suitor lavishes his attention on her. I want to enjoy what my God made me to enjoy…the love of an honest man…for me to crave his passion and feel his release as a gift given in love and not see my womanly parts as just some repository of wanton lust.”
Zadar could not hold back his feelings, groaning in dismay, agonizing over seeing a troubled heart seeking release from its own demons. Without thinking, he reached his arm across Trisha’s shoulders, pulling her close to him. The woman did not resist, continuing to stare at the water. In time, she put her head back on his shoulder, closing her eyes while breathing a contented sigh. The little stream ever hurried on, its sweet, tumultuous music playing on the woman’s ears. ‘All is well. Rest, for the world has changed. Rest and see your dreams fulfilled. Rest for now, Daughter of the Wind.
Breathe the universe anew, with life and satisfaction’.
Far away, with the sounds of disenchantment and troubled voices in her ears, another woman smiled in satisfaction. Her son would deliver the medicine. That she knew.
Zadar had never failed her before, his spirit being irresistible to her daughters, and this
creature from below? Lowenah smiled to herself. A cure…a cure was already in the making.
The tumbling of the musical stream continued, singing relaxing refrains that tugged upon cords binding a troubled heart. It felt so good to have her head on this stranger’s shoulder. Trisha closed her eyes, wishing the moment to linger on, but, alas, the woman’s mind refused to give her pause. At last, in a quiet, reserved voice, she asked,
“Zadar, is there time to take counsel?”
Zadar smiled, his reply comforting and reassuring. “Certainly, what does our captain wish to discuss?”
Lingering in her comfortable nest a moment longer, Trisha answered, “I do know why I have been delivered here and it causes me strife and concern.” She sat, pulling away and turning, looked into Zadar’s face. “My friend, if I may even call you that…”
Zadar nodded approvingly.
“Well, I am the precursor of the one who will gather himself to your people. I fear that hour, for I have seen it in visions and dreams. That is why I come now, to show your kind the way, to prepare you for the darkness that must arrive on all living things. I must prepare yours hearts for the Lord of Destruction.”
Trisha’s words puzzled Zadar, for she had uttered similar words earlier that night, their meaning still unclear. He chose, though, not to speak, encouraging Trisha to continue by remaining silent.
“Very well…” Trisha sighed, “Your people dream of a man who will take up the crown of this kingdom and return the world of peace to this land.” She shook her head.
“I have come to teach your kind many truths - one, that by evil must evil be destroyed.
Zadar, through visions, I have seen the ending days of this rebellion. Your kind cannot comprehend the great and terrible things your coming king will deliver upon this world and the rabble host. Zadar, this man brings the midnight, and he will use all his evil knowledge to bring to a finish what I must start!” She lowered her head in sadness.
“Before the darkness passes, your people will curse the day of their birth, wishing instead for the Silent Tombs of their brothers.”
Trisha looked directly at Zadar, pointing at herself, “Zadar, I am a new creation, different from all other living beings that have come before, or should arrive after…at least that is how I understand it. There is a hidden power dwelling within my soul that, should I summon it, would give me the strength of ten men. Yet I do not summon it…
cannot. My friend, I could tear you asunder this very moment if the mood should strike, but there is a greater power warring within my breast that holds it in check. And yet…”
Trisha sighed again, “the power of my mind, to take control of your people and lead them, push them beyond all sanity, that power I also do have, and it is not restrained by any hidden force.”
“I didn’t intend to hurt you earlier…really, I do mean it. I only wanted to be understood by someone. I feel so all alone at times, it makes me bitter.” Again, her heart betrayed more than the woman wanted Zadar to witness of her soul.
Zadar smiled, “You certainly do have a way of impressing lessons upon your captives. But I must be honest that your beauty does arouse prurient desires in me.”
A sensual rush of emotion raced across Trisha’s shoulders and down her back. She attempted a teasing return of her own. “Prurient? Well, such an insolent act done with
selfish intent might raise my ire and bring forth my anger. But…but if it were a truthful statement of a man speaking only what a wanton heart betrays… well… well…” She reached up, gently stroking Zadar’s soft beard. “I would so much hate to ruin a budding relationship over that man’s honest confession.” As quickly as the magic of Zadar’s flirting had lightened Trisha’s heart, a dark, foreboding, cloud swept over the woman’s soul, her eyes losing their flirtatious glow. She turned away, becoming sullen and quiet.
Zadar said nothing.
At length, Trisha spoke, her voice subdued and reserved. “There is so little time to learn and prepare, the Dragon already being at your very door. Your brother will soon attack in ways that your kind are not prepared for, and I speak not just of his wiles at the coming prisoner exchange. Satan’s army is greater than most imagine, consuming all the lost souls who follow him. He has become powerful and terrible. There stands but one fate that checks his hand, and that is Time. He must wait for the right moment in order to bring the entire universe to nothing.” Shaking her head, Trisha hinted at her hidden remorse. “I am come to force his hand. At whatever cost to your kind, it must be done. I must hurry him on so that his attack comes prematurely, so that his strike will only maim and not kill.”
Surprised, Zadar countered, “Surely we have the time…must have the time to set matters right to bring down the beast!” Staring into troubled eyes, his countenance faltered as he asked haltingly, “Don’t we…?”
Trisha sadly disagreed. “The hour has already passed. This, your mother has informed me of. From her I have learned, as she told me through her own tears, that many of her children will needlessly come to naught because of their failure to heed her warning. Even your new king has hidden herself away in denial, wishing for Shiloh to deliver the cure. I am sorry, but it must be by the blood of all living things…your brothers and sisters…that the cure will be made manifest. Zadar, the rivers of blood your people witnessed tonight through vision were not your enemy’s alone, but need I say more?” She squeezed Zadar’s hand. “You…your kind must learn how to hate the wicked.”
“But why?” Zadar asked, his voice filling with uncertainty.
Trisha sat back, surprised. “Zadar, of all people, I believed you would understand.
Is your sister, Darla, the only one with any sense about her? Please… please listen and learn. You and I are not strangers to war. When you and I watch our enemy die, we think not of them as more than a cancer removed from a diseased body. Good riddance!”
She waved her finger at him. “I know it’s so with you. I watched it in your eyes this very eve at the council.”
Zadar nodded it was so.
Trisha placed an opened hand on her breast. “I…we feel no remorse at such death.
Indeed, we rejoice for, like a surgeon removing a cancerous tumor, we see a cleansing taking place. In fact, we hate them...hate them because we know what they have done to this world, our kindred, our God! It is what drives us through the blood, gore, the stink of battle. It keeps us ever willing to fight again, to go on fighting…the hatred, I mean. It keeps us going on to the finish.” She looked into Zadar’s eyes, asking, “Is that not what I’ve seen in you? Am I not right?”
Zadar replied, “I see my mother sitting on the stairs leading to the palace courtyard, weeping over the murder of two of her daughters near the Pishon River, not far from
Eden. I was little more than a teen at the time, but the river of tears Mother shed at the report of their rape and torture turned all that was inside me into a boiling inferno of jealous rage…an anger that has little subsided down to this day. When it wakes within my soul, the world around me becomes red and my heart seeks the blood of those who hurt her.”
Trisha grinned, “You see! We fight for the same reasons! We hate...hate the evil that lives and breathes in this land!” She frowned. “Few of your brothers fight for the same reason. Even your Euroaquilo, who is among the bravest of your kind, seeks reasonable solutions in his heart, secretly hoping that peace will be found through wordy councils. Well, tonight I tried to shake the scales from their eyes, tried to help them see the need to put down their gall-tainted wine and sober up, wake up to the reality and dangers surrounding them. I think they did wake.” Trisha lowered her head, speaking remorsefully, “Now I must find a way to keep them awake, whatever the cost to them…or me.”
Trisha again took Zadar’s hand, gently caressing it. “If your people refuse to learn to hate the wicked, really hate them and all they stand for, their hearts will not be able to endure Shiloh’s onslaught. What he will demand from them…for he will cry out in all that is good and evil to bring down the Serpent’s house…he will demand that the blood kin become the avengers of blood in the ruining of that house.” She nodded sadly, “So, you see, they must learn to hate as you and I have, or their hearts will not survive the ordeal.”
As tears welled up in her eyes, Trisha pleaded, “Zadar, I am but a little shadow of the things to come, a rustling breeze preceding the great storm. I know. I have seen it in my waking visions. Zadar, Shiloh is the storm! Yes, the very savior that your brothers have yearned so long for is the very nightmare that your brothers have so greatly feared. He will fulfill all the words of all the prophets. He will laugh at war, deride the timid, and despise the weak.” She squeezed Zadar’s hand once more. “My friend, Zadar, Shiloh is the Destroyer!”
Zadar rubbed his bearded chin, pondering what Trisha’s revelations portended for his people. Suddenly his face lit up in questioning wonder as he asked, “Is Shiloh already come? Does he live here or in the worlds below?”
Trisha closed her eyes, hiding growing tears.
Excited, Zadar pressed her for information. “Do you know who he is?”
Giving a nod, Trisha hung her head as if in remorse, becoming glum and silent.
Zadar said nothing, waiting upon the right moment when the woman’s heart would force words to come from her mouth.
Finally, but oh so sadly, Trisha answered, “He is still a child whose opinion is driven by the foolish winds surrounding him. His heart is held captive by a religion led by obstinate men filled with self-glory who seek not the truth, but mindless followers taught to do their personal bidding, binding the peoples’ souls by feeding them drops of truth concerning my God, while heaping buckets of drivel upon their starving hearts.
“My heart…I say by witchery, but your mother says by my own desires…my heart is bound up with him, my head already in a tizzy over who this child will become. No other man has, of yet, moved my passions as this one has, and that only in my night visions of our loving togetherness, making me feel all the more lonely and empty of soul and heart.”
She looked into Zadar’s eyes, pleading, “Please tell no one about what I have spoken.
Please!”
Zadar puzzled, asking, “Why all the secrecy? Falling in love is a common thing, especially with your kind.”
Trisha glared, eyes squinting, “I speak not of my feelings, though it might embarrass me should my personal feelings be bantered about in public. You should know better than that.”
Apologizing, Zadar confessed, “I am sorry, but it was your feelings I was considering. What other reason for secrecy?”
It was Trisha’s turn to apologize. Gripping Zadar’s wrist, Trisha explained, “It is Shiloh of whom I speak in secrecy. Now, you must promise me with an oath, even of life and death, to even that of ever telling Mihai your king, or anyone whosoever, upon your own soul you must confess to never speak of this again until the day of revealing, or I shall take my leave and talk of this no more.”
Zadar was taken aback, having never been asked such a thing before. Oaths his people did not take, at least this kind of oath, fealty and honesty being expected by just a word. Still, Trisha was not from this world, her former one being filled with deceit and lies. Was it such a big thing to assuage this woman’s fears? Besides, Zadar was filled to exploding with curiosity, needing to know more. He offered his oath in the way Trisha requested.
Satisfied, breathing a sigh of relief at not having to leave Zadar because of her threat, Trisha revealed her secret. “Upon my arrival to this place, I was whisked away to the outer reaches of this Empire, a certain BruunTaciak being my mentor and companion.”
She segued, as if thinking aloud, “More a mentor, I guess, I being cold and distant with men…still am, I guess. Bruun was a good fellow and let me have my way, giving me security without romance.” Apologizing for wandering, Trisha returned to the subject.
“Some years ago... I believe I was on post at CharlaBaal, a small military compound south of the Trizentine... my night visions began carrying me away to the strange worlds below to visit myself upon a young child…oh, such a foolish little boy! Night after night the visions would return, but not the same visions. It was as if I were watching a daily event, each a progressive day, one after the next.
“In time, I mentioned my visions to Bruun. He, being a very patient and discerning man, told me to cherish them in my heart while waiting upon a visit from Lowenah, and that was but a very short wait. Three days hence, she arrived at my lodging acting oh, so casual and chatting on about such unimportant matters. Finally, I blurted out my constant night visions, asking her what they might be about. Lowenah puzzled at first, the twinkle in her eyes telling me so much more. She replied that watching young ones in the Lower Realms was good training for new arrivals to this place, helped to keep an overeager mind occupied and well behaved. At first I accepted her answer, me being too naive to understand your mother’s sense of humor and riddling. But as time went on, I became suspicious about this child, he being peculiar in so many ways.”
Trisha’s eyes searched the little stream as she went on. “It was queer for me to watch him, spooky, some might say. The little fellow was different in how he acted, I mean, in small and little-noticed ways. The boy didn’t really fit in, always out of place, like a shadow on a cloudy day. He was different, on the inside, I mean.” Trisha pointed at her heart. “In here, right here.”
She slowly shook her head. “Strange fellow, indeed! He’s grown up in a religion preaching peace and love, that is, until God strikes the world with plague and vengeance, but that is to be done by God’s hand. All those chosen, you know, all the good, saved, souls are not to get their hands dirty…sort a’ like having the reward without getting messy. They’ll just swoop in and take over the planet after all the bad people are killed off.
“Well, this boy preached all this with his mouth when talking to others about what he believed, but he was one hellacious warmonger when left to himself. That’s all he ever was about, warring at this, fighting at that. He made little flags for himself and led imaginary armies on to great victories. Most of his toys became war machines, clay became soldiers and sticks became weapons. Yes sir, he talked peace and studied war…
all the time he did, reading and watching about it…all the time.”
Trisha lifted her hand while extending a finger to make an added point. “I studied him in my dreams and came to believe it was not by chance the boy acted so odd in the way he did things, thought things. Lowenah, I came to feel, had been dabbling with this boy, weaving his chemistry while in his mother’s belly. Over time, I found that others were paying more than the usual attention to this child. Your Gabrielle has spent more than her share of time investigating him.”
Zadar nodded with understanding, rubbing his beard in thought, finally commenting,
“Gabrielle has long been absorbed in the lives of your kind. She is not one to idly wile away the hours on trivial matters. Her attention given to the boy betrays his importance to us…at least in some way.”
Trisha agreed. “I came to feel so out of place, my seeing the boy and all of these important people in my visions, and my visions being so real. Eventually, Lowenah told me that my visions were real, that my mind was being transported to my old world and what I saw happening, even playing a part in, was really happening as I saw it.
“These visions have carried on down to this day. I have spent many years watching him. Not more than a week ago, I visited the boy. Oh, he’s like most boys his age, and at times quite ill-behaved…sneaky, if you know what I mean. But something in him, I think a love for Lowenah, a kind that’s rare among his people, I think even among your own…I believe that’s what draws me to him.”
Trisha cast her eyes away, embarrassed. “I took to dreaming about him as a man, I mean, seeing him and me together, loving each other. It became so bad that I found myself waking in heated sweats, my heart pounding for his touch, his embrace. He was so gentle, always so gentle, in my dreams, I mean.” She looked back at Zadar. “Whether it was real or not, I found myself falling in love with the man I hoped he’d become, have fallen in love. When I confessed this all to Lowenah, she smiled and went to chatting about other very unimportant matters.” She looked up and into Zadar’s face, her eyes welling with tears. “It was only this morning that your mother, my Lord and God, revealed her secrets to me concerning this boy.”
Zadar could not contain himself, blurting out, “What did she tell you?!” He quickly apologized for his intrusive brashness.
Smiling, Trisha answered, “I intended to tell you the rest, and shall. You are so strange in many ways, so ancient and so youthful, old and young, man and child. Do you understand what I mean?”
He replied he believed so.
“Well…” Trisha began, “allow me, please, to first digress. I must take us back to the days when your sister, Mihai, visited my world as a man, grown in power, glory, and wisdom, being the greatest of all Yehowah’s prophets to men. Well, the world that Mihai was born into was ruled over by kings whose bloodlines were considered of greater worth for rulership than other qualities. For that matter, the man who dictated law over her mother’s nation was an illegitimate king, having no right to rule a toadstool let alone a divine nation. Mihai’s birth mother and adoptive father were both in the bloodlines of those having the rightful rule of your mother’s earthly nation. Thus, through the trickery of your mother, Mihai, being born a male, and being the firstborn of that bloodline, possessed the right to be king over that people, and any future people of that nation.”
Zadar acknowledged this, already being fully aware of those events, but what Trisha said next was surprising and chilling.
“There was another kind of trickery afoot long before that day, trickery that Asotos believed remained hidden from the eyes of Lowenah, but that was not really so. Long ago there was a woman, a Moabitess, already a Hormaxian full-blood child, her mother being a child of rape by that cult and then she…Ruth’s mother…herself, having produced Ruth by similar means. This woman, Ruth, the very person who became ancestress to Mary, Mihai’s birth mother, was, herself, impregnated by a man filled with Hormaxian blood.
“For it was not Boaz who made Ruth pregnant with child but so-and-so who, through deceit, seducing Ruth into believing he had taken her as wife, took her and had relations with her and then, the following day, rejected her publicly in the city gate, when he realized that he was to produce a seed…a child through brother-in-law marriage for another man…and that he would not receive the landed inheritance he had expected.
“Boaz, later learning of the matter, chose to remain silent and took Ruth’s child for his own, telling no one the reality. And so your mother, my God, she keeping the truth even from the prophets of that people, allowed Asotos to believe he had contaminated the bloodline of the promised seed that was to bring to ruin his rebellious world.”
Trisha slowly shook her head. “It was on a pretense that Asotos led the Babylonian wise men to King Herod, he wanting Lowenah to believe he truly desired to kill Mary’s son, thus hiding the fact that he was preparing the child to become his own agent to do his eventual bidding. It wasn’t until Asotos fully realized that Mary’s firstborn was not a child of the Earth, but born from the Heavens and was Mihai, herself, in a man’s form that Asotos, in his anger, brought the child up to death before Pilate, he having no idea that his scheming ways were never secret to your mother, she using his treachery to her own advantage. When Mihai, as a man, was murdered by Asotos’ agents, because she died having produced no heir, the right of kingly rulership passed on to Mary’s next oldest son, James. Thus, by law, Mihai lost the right of being king over the Second Realm.”
“What?!” Zadar’s excited voice carried a tone of confusion. “That’s not so, for all of Mihai’s brothers and sisters have been in expectation of her kingly power which she presented to us this eve, to remove forever wickedness and establish an everlasting kingdom!”
Trisha smiled to herself. So, the information she was privy to was secret to Lowenah’s children! She savored the moment, basking in the thought of being so favored by the Maker of all Things. “My friend, it is true what I have said, but you must
hear me out and listen to all of your mother’s riddling before you will understand the great deception she has heaped upon the Wicked One’s head. Now please pay attention.”
She patted Zadar’s hand, breaking into a toothy smile. “Tonight, Mihai received a legal kingship over a tribe, not over a nation. In doing this, your mother has given Mihai power and glory over her brothers and sisters, but she has not received the majesty of Firstborn...could not unless she changed the very nature of her being and returned to the likeness of her former flesh when in the Lower Realms. And even then, she would have no right to claim an ancestral connection to Shiloh and his kingdom either, except…
except for…” Trisha’s voice trailed away, she being reluctant to reveal further secrets.
Zadar refused to be put off...not now, not after all his tingling ears had so far discovered. “Sister, now is not the time to play games with me! It is not fair on your part to string this fellow along to only leave him hanging high in the breeze. Be a good soldier and tell your brother the rest of you tale.”
Trisha replied, shocked, “You called me ‘sister’!” She thought about it for a moment, finally smiling. “Thank you. What I have to speak about is secret to all but your mother and…and a woman from my world who resides even now in the shadows of this one, for she is hidden from all but Lowenah and now me. Yes, from her very mouth has the truth about your sister, Mihai, and her adventures in my world been fully revealed. Even Gabrielle has no knowledge of this, Lowenah blinding the eyes of her children until the coming hour.
“Please…er…my brother,” Trisha grinned, it feeling good to call someone part of a family, “Mihai, born of flesh as a man, perfect in the flesh as a human man, born from the genetic makeup of her mother, allowed her as a man to legally repurchase the sons of Adam for the wickedness of that man, the first man. Still, it did not give her the right of kingly power over Abraham’s children or any other men. That must come through the bloodline of the seed, as promised by Gabrielle in the Garden so many ages ago.
“James, Mihai’s younger brother in the flesh…you know James…walks with us in these realms. Well, James received legal right to carry the line of kingship through his children and did so, his family’s bloodline mixing with that of mankind. Your mother…
er, my mother…” Trisha grinned once more, “whisked her seed away from Asotos so that he could never threaten it again. So, from James, will…has come Shiloh, the promised king. Well, almost…”
Zadar squirmed with impatience, Trisha laughing, delighted at seeing his childish antics. When he had settled down, she continued. “Mother was not satisfied with this.
She wanted Mihai to have legal right to the throne of her brother, that is, if she really wanted it. To do that, Shiloh must also be of her legal descent, her human bloodline.
Now here is where wisdom extraordinaire comes in, for nothing is impossible with Yehowah. Isn’t that the very reason for her children to gift that name upon her?”
Zadar nodded.
“Yes,” Trisha went on, “as I said, Shiloh must have Mihai’s blood, but how? You see, as I recall it being written by our friend, Paul, who spoke of Mihai in the flesh, saying that she…he…after he had been made perfect, became responsible for everlasting salvation. He, Mihai in her human, male flesh first needed to become like Adam, fully perfect.
“Now Mihai, in the flesh of a man but with the knowledge of her heavenly flesh, took, by the command of our mother, a woman of clay and celebrated with her the rite