Reformation (26 page)

The relic floating
before him did not have a body for Kuanti to assess its mood.  Four of the warriors who fell aboard Zhu’s marooned flagship had already reanimated into clay forms, but these two were being stubborn.  He needed a quick answer, but in all fairness, it was a rather vexing decision to make.  To suppress his impatience Kuanti turned away from the stone altar to take in the grandeur of the burial chamber once more.

In the center of the room rest
ed a solid bronze coffin interring the remains of the Chinese nation’s first emperor, Qui Shi Huang.  Surrounding the coffin was a detailed three-dimensional map of the nation complete with flowing streams of mercury representing the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers.  The slightly domed ceiling lay twenty feet overhead with imbedded seashells, pearls and gemstones accurately depicting the sun, moon and star constellations of the sky.  Hanging from the ceiling, at evenly spaced intervals, were a hundred whale oil lamps which still functioned admirably today.

The only imperfection to the ceiling’s portrayal of the heav
ens was an antenna the size of a man’s head, which extended down from the chamber above. His men had spent the last year carving out the chamber to harness and house the relics soon to arrive from Mars.  Victory over the Novi, once so certain, was now in doubt.  Kuanti needed all the physical soldiers he could summon to fend off an assault by the Novi that he knew was imminent.

A bright flash of golden light emanating from behind Kuanti caused him to turn and face the relic once more.  Whatever its answer would be, the relic certainly had strong feelings on the matter.

“I will not comply with that order,” the relic insisted.  “It
blatantly betrays the laws of Mother Nature.  I will not dishonor myself by reanimating.”

If Kuanti were still a relic
flame, his rage would have scorched the entire burial chamber; the selfish arrogance.  “You do not have the luxury of saying no, soldier.  You are under my command, and I order you to reanimate to take up arms and defend this chamber until our brothers from the Mars colony arrive.”

“The Mars relics do not need to transfer here, and those Alpha warriors will arrive on this planet to deliver final victory whether this chamber is defended or not,” the relic countered.  “This
order is all about you.  You and your need to be the hero and this blasphemous obsession you have with reanimation.”

Kuanti
had heard enough.  He stalked over to the stone altar, scooped the relic up into his hardened clay hands and carried it over to the flowing river of mercury and held it perilously over the poisonous substance.  “You say that like you have a choice in the matter.  You will reanimate or your life force will be extinguished for all eternity.”

The relic
once again flared with intensity to deliver a response. “Then I will enter the afterlife with a clear conscience and Mother Nature as an advocate in my final judgment.  Do with me as you deem fit and honorable.”

The finality of the statement brought a snarl to
Kuanti’s face.  There was no more debating; he could either make good on his threat, or let it be shown as a hollow bluff.  Either way he stood to lose face, but would the example force others to make the right choice?  Or would destroying an innocent relic for sticking to its ideals lead to an insurrection?

Cora must
have sensed the same dilemma; she stepped toward the stone altar in her new clay form to address the other relic thus far refusing to reanimate.  “I suppose you are equally committed to the moral reservations you have about bringing an inanimate clay body to life with your life force?”

“I am,” the relic declared without a moment of hesitation.

“These two are as worthless in death as they were in life,” Cora stated.  “They couldn’t even handle one simple Novi armed with a sword.  Let them exist in the dark corners of this chamber to contemplate their failures for all eternity until they chose to end their own existence out of shame.”

For show, Kuanti continued holding the relic over the flowing mercury to appear conflicted with his decision.  In reality there was no decision.  Cora
gave him a way out without looking weak, and he would take it.

“Very well,” Kuanti said and then walked over to Cora and hastily dropped the relic into her hands.  “Just be sure to keep these two selfish traitors out of my sight, the very thought of their pathetic existence offends me.”

Cora dutifully carried the relic and its rebellious companion off to the far left corner of the burial chamber.  As she moved away Kuanti heard a collective exhale from the two Alpha warriors standing watch at the chamber doorway.  He turned to inspect their physical reactions further, but had his attention drawn to the two animated statues strutting through the doorway to deliver a report.

“We
have finished relocating the landing craft underground to rest inside the fourth soldier pit,” they reported.

“And it is adequately surrounded by clay statues?” Kuanti asked.

“Yes, hundreds of them.”

Kuanti despised handing out praise
, but he simply could not suppress a broad smile from gracing his clay lips.  “Excellent.  Let it draw the Novi in like moths to a flame.”

Word of Tomal’s
victorious rescue of the rebellion leaders spread about the surrounding townships causing the ranks of his tiny force to swell from twenty to several hundred.  As the force moved to the southwest, every minor estate of the social elite was razed to the ground, sending the aristocracy scrambling for the strongest fortification around - Weinsburg castle. 

With forty foot high walls that stood five feet thick and a moat ringing the entire complex
, it made for an imposing target.  Upon seeing the massive structure a few miles in the distance, Prince Fredrick had misgivings about the endeavor.

“This is not just some sneak attack you are attempting here. This will be
the siege of a well defended castle requiring thousands of soldiers with heavy bombardment tools,” the prince protested.  “We only have a few hundred lightly armed farmers.  This is beyond us.”

While the men rode their horse
s side by side ahead of the ragtag army, Tomal shook his head in defiance.  “No it’s not.  Five weeks ago Archbishop Leonhard ordered conscriptions from every local lord and duke to form a single large army to overwhelm the separate rebellions around the region to put them down one at a time.”

“Yes, it was a shrewd move,” the prince admired.  “The military maxim to divide and conquer one
’s enemy is being put on full display.  Our scouts report that the large army is still over a hundred miles to the north mopping up a few lingering hotspots.”

“I find that a little
insulting,” Tomal interjected. “Here we are, a sizeable force that managed to conquer a castle and leave a scorching trail of destruction in our wake as we move across the landscape.  Yet we still do not merit an immediate recall of that army by the nobles to handle us.  Imagine the nerve of them to disregard us like that.  Still, it does give us an opportunity.”

“I see,” Prince Fredrick responded.  “You think
Weinsburg will be too undermanned to put up a fight against us.”

Tomal flashed him a mischievous smile, “The thought did cross my mind.”

The prince looked positively baffled by Tomal’s plan.  He pointed toward the massive walls of Weinsburg with an angry index finger.  “It doesn’t matter if there are no defenders at all in the castle, we will never make it past those walls.  When we show up, I assure you that the Duke and his men will lower their pants and take a piss on us from those walls, and there won’t be a damn thing we can do to stop them.  Then perhaps a week from now that combined army from the north will arrive and hand our heads to us.”

“Who do you think is inside those walls?” Tomal insisted.

“The Duke and his family.”

“And?”

“Seventy or more local lords and their families whose homes we burned on our way here,” the prince went on.  A raised eyebrow from Tomal prompted him to continue the list.  “Probably ten or twenty soldiers.”

“I’d put it more at fifty soldiers, but that is not even the point.  Who else is inside those walls at this very moment?” Tomal asked.  He was not at all surprised a man of privileged birth did not see the obvious
answer, after all, does anyone ever pay attention to the hired help?

A flicker of comprehension graced the prince’s eyes and a broad grin soon followed.  “Butchers, bakers, stable hands, servers, cleaners, and the list
goes on.  With those seventy plus households inside, there must be at least five hundred commoners already within those walls.”

“Now the question is
, do you think people earning an impoverished wage and enduring a lifetime of being treated like dirt will align themselves with our cause or that of their oppressors?” Tomal asked.

“Our cause is the reformation of the Catholic Church away from corruption, but to most it is about taxes, wages and social standing,” the prince answered look
ing ahead at the castle walls that no longer looked so imposing.

When Tomal’s small force set up camp outside the castle walls, the first order of business was to communicate with the commoners inside.  Archers
shot arrows over the walls with hand written notes attached letting the commoners inside know this was truly their army outside.  Their army had arrived to deliver them from the captivity of the antiquated feudal system. 

At least one of the notes had an impact
; in the early morning hours of the second day, the front gates swung open allowing the castle to fall.  It took no time at all to secure the castle since all the hard work was already done by the servants.  When Tomal entered the castle, he found the Duke of Helfenstein, along with seventy other noblemen seeking refuge, bound with rope and herded into the central square at sword point.

Tomal could tell immediately
that this conquest would not be handled with nearly the same civility as before.  Many of the nobles were already badly beaten and wore torn garments.  Now the servants hurled rocks, rotten food, and even feces at their one time tormentors.  These servants and townspeople had retribution on their minds and would not be denied.  A quick look exchanged with Fredrick let Tomal know that the prince saw it too, and moved to be the voice of reason.

“I know, I know,” Prince Fredrick shouted as he walked into the open between the nobles and their captors with his arms raised high.  The mob quieted to hear his words.  “These men have shown you no mercy
ever
so they should be shown none in return.  However, we shall hit them where it hurts the most, in their wealth.  We will hold them ransom and drain their family treasuries in exchange for their lives so that this rebellion may go on to even greater conquests.”

“No,”
bellowed a burly man covered from head to toe in soot and grime who could only be a blacksmith.  He roared forward and grabbed one particular nobleman by the throat and threw him down to the ground next to Prince Fredrick.  “This pig forced himself onto my wife and all three daughters whenever he felt the urge.  When I tried to resist he would have me thrown in the stocks for a week, sometimes longer.”

The man looked away from Fredrick to stare down the man cowering on the ground.  “No amount of coin will be enough to right those wrongs.  Even death is too good for you, but it is the best I can do.”

“No it’s not,” another commoner called out before the blacksmith could carry out his murder.  “Run him through the gauntlet.  Run them all through the gauntlet to make sure our message is heard all across the continent.”

“No.  No!” Prince Fredrick demanded
, but the mob’s blood was up and there was no reasoning with them.  Tomal ran into the fray and pulled the prince away, lest the servants take his nobility as an excuse to kill him as well.

“This is not the Christian thing to do,” Fredrick shouted.  “Martin Luther, our spiritual guide
, is here among us now.  I implore you not to shed the blood of these men in his presence.”

It was no use.  Tomal, Prince Fredrick, and their men were herded to the side as the servants made two lines twenty feet apart and nearly a hundred feet long.  They all held long pikes with an axe and spear tip combination at the end.  The nobles were
tied together in a line at the waist and then sent between the pike wielding columns in groups of ten.

“Any who make it through alive will be free to go,” the blacksmith taunted the first group and then swung his sword at the noble who so grievously wronged him and his family.  The blow took of
f the nobles left leg at the knee and sent the entire chain of men running through the gauntlet of pikes for their lives, dragging the one-legged man across the ground as they went.

For over an hour
, pikes sliced, stabbed, chopped and bludgeoned the nobles until not a single one drew breath any longer.  One particularly speedy nobleman who had the ropes binding his hands cut free actually made it through the gauntlet alive, but collapsed shortly thereafter due to the extreme loss of blood.

While all the commotion was going on outside, Tomal busied
himself with the task of locating a specific wagon carrying a particular artifact he needed for the next phase of his plan.

Once Tomal and the rest of his men pilfered anything else useful from the castle
, they set fire to the grounds and moved on.  A number of servants from the torched castle who felt torturing the nobles took matters a step too far joined them rather than taking part in the despicable spectacle.

After hours of marching, the prince still looked thoroughly disgusted with humanity as he gazed out over the fields with a vacant stare.  “That was too far.  We should have
stopped it.  You are a man of God, and having your name associated with that massacre is a travesty.”

“There was nothing our meager numbers could do to stop it,” Tomal answered quietly to match the somber mood.  He intended to continue his thoughts
, but was interrupted by the arrival of yet another cluster of peasants asking to join their march.  For the tenth time that day he agreed and saw yet another few hundred join their numbers.

“As impalpable as that event may have been to you and I, it certainly has served the greater good.  Word of our victory is spreading fast.  The peasants have something to believe in now
and they join us in droves.  Now instead of a few hundred, a capable army of ten thousand approaches the culprit of all things evil and wrong with the Catholic Church in this region: Salzburg and the fortress of Archbishop Leonhard von Keutschach.