Fear of Mystics (Saga of Mystics Book 2) (16 page)

CHRISTMAS EVE

“All things come and all things go. Thus it has been since the beginning of time. This too shall pass, my son.”

-
        
Father Alard, Act 2, scene 1,
Merrifield Rites

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

              “Is it done?” The minister asked in his usual businesslike fashion. When out of the hearing of the masses, Sal was fairly direct. Cory always preferred him that way.

              “As you ordered,” Cory replied. “I left Nate and Jim with them, to make sure that none of their abilities made a sudden reappearance.”

              “Good. And the other two? Have we discovered them?” Sal queried.

              “Not a sign. Even the trackers, who followed them North, have found nothing.” Cory wasn’t surprised. He knew the reasons they were fighting the powers everyone was exhibiting. It had more to do with order, than good versus evil. But, a little bit of those powers would have gone a long way right now. The trackers they had were no match for the abilities that some of the opponents’ powers.

              “We will find them eventually. The Army from the west is still on the march?” Sal was distracted by planning. He had told Cory many times how important timing was, and now Cory could see that timing was everything in this endeavor.

              “Yes, all evidence shows they will be here today.” Cory answered. “Also, the farmers and civilians are gathering. Our force matches theirs, in size, if not in training.”

              “All we need is the show,” Sal said, half to himself. “We know that. All we need is to convince them it is better to fight through intermediaries. Your arm will hold up?”

              Cory looked down at the stump of a hand, and pulled out the prosthetic they had made, fitting it firmly over the mangled flesh on his wrist. It was made of iron, a studded round appendage with a straight spike coming out of the end. “Oh, I think I will be alright.”

              Sal nodded, “They will send their best. We must take them quickly, and they must die before they adjust to not having their powers.”

              Cory just looked at the older man, “Sal, we have done this before.”

              “But you underestimated the Wanderer.”

              Cory tapped the new “hand” against his leg, “And I learned my lesson.”

              A short nod was all Cory got for encouragement. It was not Sal’s way to give too much support. Silence was as close to support as the man could provide. “Let us go make a show then.”

              They walked out of the tent that had been erected as a command area. It was cold out today, but still relatively dry. He could see the clouds forming over Pike’s Peak and knew they were in for a snowstorm today. The worst of the weather usually hit from January through April, so they wanted to be home quickly and miss any major storm. It was not uncommon for Christmas to mark the beginning of the stormy season, sometimes with a blizzard starting it out. Cory thought on Sal’s urge to get this done quick. As usual, Sal Martino was correct.

              They didn’t need to call a meeting. Everyone was already standing around the pyres, hurling insults or pleading with the two condemned to confess their sins and receive swift redemption. The latter was simply not going to happen. Cory knew Sal wanted the drama of a show, to exhibit his control and authority.

              As the two of them walked toward the pyre, Tyler silently fell in with them. Most cleansings only required one or two of the Lord’s Hammer. This particular cleansing would display the whole authority of the group with Minister Sal and the Lord’s Hammer standing side by side, vanquishing the foe, and lighting the cleansing fire over the captured.

              Sal stood before the crowd, who immediately silenced themselves. “Fellow believers, we all know why we are here today. We are here to cleanse this city, once again, of the influence of the Adversary. Today, through his cleansing fire, the Lord Himself will rid us of this threat. This heretic, and his conspirator, the traitor, will both burn in his righteous fire.”

              The crowd cheered for Sal and the Faith, and jeered the condemned.

              Sal continued, “I know some of you doubt. Let me tell you, there is no room for doubt in this action. We must be strong. We must be steadfast. We must honor our God with this sacrifice.”

              There was a scream, and gasps as people turned to look. Far off in the distance, Cory could see the slow approach of the force from Council Bluffs. Their horses were a nice touch, it made them look more imposing. But they were walking into the trap specifically set for them by the most effective planner Cory had ever met. The opponent was walking right into the wide open maw of their impending doom, and they couldn’t even see it. Everything was happening according to plan.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

              “Mr. Craven,” the silky, smooth false pleasantries of the Minister made Ted’s skin crawl, “It is nice to see you again. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

              Ted looked at the four men behind Sal. The Lord’s Hammer stood silently, seemingly unconcerned about the parlay in front of them.

              “Cut the bullshit...” Eric began, but Ted put his hand up. Fine was clearly not enjoying either the farce of this truce, nor the inner tug each of them could feel with all four Lord’s Hammer standing this close. It made one’s muscles feel like they hadn’t the strength to keep standing.

              “I think you know why we are here,” Ted answered, “We have come to collect our people. Hand them over and we will leave you to your revival in peace.” Ted knew there was zero chance they would get out of this without a fight. He had hoped their numbers would cow the Faith, but it turned out they had brought a force equal to the force from the Bluffs.

              “That I cannot do,” Minister Sal answered, without explanation.

              “Then we are at an impasse, Minister.” Ted waited for the older man to feel he had backed them down, then continued, “It is war. One of my people told me they remember you from before the event. You were a political operative with the Christian Right. They called you ruthless, and frankly faithless. I guess we all change.” He let what he knew about Sal sink in for a moment. “But, we had lives before the event also. I was a U.S. Army Soldier, as was Mr. Fine here. We have cadets from the Air Force Academy, soldiers, war-trained fighters. If we leave this meeting without our people, that experience and training will rain down on your people until there are none left. Give me back my people, and avoid the destruction that comes your way.”

              Sal actually seemed prepared for this. It was the strangest thing Ted had ever seen. He responded, “Yes, that does seem a predicament. But, the godless can’t stand up to the God-fearing. We are secure in His power and might. But, since you are so strong, perhaps we could negotiate a different type of arrangement.”

              “Give me back my people.”

              “Yes, yes, if you can win. Many centuries ago, trials by combat were performed to settle such things. It was believed that God himself judged the match. Whoever won, God was on their side, so they won. I propose a similar match now. My champions against yours.”

              “This is a foolish suggestion…” Ted began, trying to see where Sal was headed. He couldn’t possibly think these young men could defeat seasoned soldiers.

              “Why, can your fighters not defeat four political operatives?” Sal’s voice dripped with sarcasm and derision.

              Before Ted could stop him, Eric took the bait. “Done,” he said, “don’t come crying when your boys lose, because it won’t be over then. Each and every one of you will pay for your actions.”

              “I know the stories about you, Mr. Fine. Or is it Major Fine? Sensei? Shogun? Lord Marshall?” If Eric was taken back by the man’s knowledge of him, it didn’t show. All Eric was showing was the malice that made people fear him so much. “So, should we expect the evil intent you unleashed on so many in the early days of these end times?”

Eric smiled an evil looking smile, full of hate and aggression, “You can.”

Sal turned to Ted, he added, “His presence here tells us all we need know about you and your intent. Please include him in your champions. Seeing his destruction will please not only God, but many of those in our camp who barely escaped his clutches.”

              “He couldn’t stop me if he wanted to.” Eric replied, referring to Ted. The Minister seemed almost intent on drawing Eric’s ire. Ted didn’t have time to wonder why, because it had worked.

              “And, I don’t want to.” Ted replied. “I will also join. You have killed my friends, and I don’t like your ilk. We accept your proposal. Eric and I, Commander Casco here and my niece, Natalee will make up our four.” Ted saw the reflexive twitch in the Lord’s Hammer at the mention of Nat.

              “No women,” Sal said.

              “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you were defeated by a female,” Ted’s taunt was close, but he had missed something. There was something there, but he wasn’t sure what it was. “Besides, why are you so afraid? You have killed plenty of women.”

              “We do not beat women. It is against our code.” Sal’s mental gymnastics to make sense of this thing were so common among those who held an inconsistent belief. “We cleanse them of demons, it is true.”

              “Our champions, or our army, you choose. Either way, Natalee will be kicking the shit out of you.”

              Sal considered for a moment, “Very well. I suppose it doesn’t matter. She is not a woman anyway, since she is indwelt with the Adversary.”

              “Oh, I am certain she will be quite adversarial.” Ted played on the words, but he was running out of patience.

              “Bare handed only,” Sal demanded.

              “It won’t save your lives,” Eric added.

              “Nor yours.” Sal responded. “Go say your good byes, Mr. Craven. Our champions will meet you here, in the middle, in let’s say fifteen minutes.”

              “My watch doesn’t work,” Ted countered, “But, if I see you coming, I will know it is time.”

              “Cute.” Sal said, and turned toward his camp and walked back.

              When they were out of earshot, Eric turned to him, “Shit, Craven, I didn’t know you had that kind of venom in you.”

              “I hate his kind. They are manipulators, takers, oppressors. After we kill his men, I will deal with him personally.” Ted’s anger burned.

              Eric let out a laugh, and strode with even more confidence, if that was possible, back to his men. They all prepared themselves and waited for movement from the other side.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

              This was what he had been waiting for, a true test of his skills. Eric could feel the drain of energy from his legs, from his arms, from his everywhere. It had been prevalent when they had stood before these four while talking to their leader. It was pervasive now, preparing for close combat. These four young men, standing still as stone, not knowing their doom was at hand.

              Eric took the far left of their own foursome, with Craven and Casco in the middle and Ward’s daughter on the far side. He had never cared much for either Ward or Craven, but there was no denying Craven’s ability to lead a squad. In moments, he had analyzed tactics and given them rough working orders for this fight. Eric didn’t answer to him, but he would follow these guidelines for as long as they worked. He doubted it would take much time to crush these men.

              The Lord’s Hammer stood about twenty yards from them, more spread out than his group was. They seemed like they were set up for a losing battle of red rover, with about five yards in between each of them. Which side would move first was really the only question left. Eric knew that after destroying these men, he would crush that Minister into pulp. He greatly disliked any of these religious types, having seen enough of them through many years in the sand. They were always black and white in public, and conniving bastards in private. They could always be bought, for a time. Eric felt the same about these as he did about all the others. It was just easier to kill them all.

              “Oh, fuck this,” he said and strode forward to land the first blow. He vaguely heard the shout of Craven’s warning before he did, but he didn’t care. He could take out four men without training, and never break a sweat. The men startled, and Eric knew he had won. But, they drew close together to fight him as one. Then he realized his mistake.

              They weren’t coming together to fight him; they were joining their powers. He felt not only his ability rush from him, but all the energy it took to move toward them. He stopped in his tracks, too late to stop the others from following him. Gathering all of the focus he could, and concentrating on the medallion around his throat, he did all he could to take a stance and begin the rote movements he had trained at his whole life. To his right, he could glimpse Craven doing the same. The other two were probably doomed.

              Remaining close to one another, the Lord’s Hammer attacked. With the two younger members of his group nearly incapacitated with exhaustion from the drain, it was up to Eric and Craven to fight two apiece. The Lord’s Hammer were young men, full of vibrancy, and clearly not feeling the effect that their powers had on others. It took all of his power to just block and parry their attacks, he had no counter ability at the moment. The dread was settling on him, when he saw the movement to his right.

              In a flash, Casco had hauled all of his energy together and thrown himself at one of the men fighting Craven. He was swinging wildly at the man with the missing hand. Eric had not seen until now what was in that hand’s place. He had a studded cuff with a spike sticking out of the end. Casco went down with that spike in his chest, and the man turned toward Natalee.

              As he did, Eric found a little bit of energy return to him. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to counter a blow. And he did counter, punching one of his attackers square in the temple and knocking him back on his ass. He felt a sudden rush, but it wasn’t adrenaline, it was his own body’s energy returning with the foe’s loss of focus. He realized what needed to happen, but Craven shouted it first.

              “Separate them!” His former subordinate shouted.

              Eric spread out, and was left with only one, as the other joined to attack Craven. The spiked one was still chasing Natalee, who was drawing him away from the others. His power still drained. Fighting only one, Eric was forced to resort to simple martial arts. But his natural strength was back, so he began to attack with force.

              Things were turning his way, his opponent reeling backward from a front kick to the sternum, when he heard the cry. Craven was on the ground being pummeled. Natalee did the worst thing she could and rushed to his side, bringing three of the Lord’s Hammer together, and instantly sapping her strength. His foe down for the moment, Eric turned to try to draw them away.

A cry of anguish went up from his force. Spinning, Eric saw the flames spring up from the two pyres, to which the Bluffs’ people were tied. It distracted Natalee and the spiked man hit the side of her head with his studded cuff. A cry went up again, but this time from the other side. Assuming that his men were riding in to wipe the ground clean of the enemy, Eric was overwhelmed by the shadow that fell across their battle. It was large, it came from above, and it was causing both forces to shout in terror.

Eric looked to the sky to see a great winged lizard flying above. The thing was about the size of a bus and blotted out the sun when directly overhead. The Lord’s Hammer backed away, keeping together. Craven lay in a pool of his own blood, his niece crawling toward him to check on him. Casco had not moved since he had been stabbed. The creature in the air circled and swooped down upon them.

Even though his foe was backing away in fear, Eric could not help but feel the doom as this monster landed heavily in the space directly between his downed comrades, and the Lord’s Hammer. It did not turn and thrash his team, as he expected. Rather, it crouched, gnashing its teeth toward the Faith in a show of protection. The beast was guarding his team!

Just as that realization hit him, Eric noticed a man atop the serpent’s back. The dirty vagrant couldn’t be anyone other than the Hermit he had heard so much about. As the man leapt from the back of the dragon, which is the only word Eric could think to identify the beast, he knew what he was looking at. Skinny as a refugee, hair matted with twigs and dirt, beard to mid chest, he still would know that face anywhere. He sat in stunned silence as the man walked toward the Lord’s Hammer. Eric didn’t even make a move to stop the fourth, who ran to join his friends.