The Dragons of Men (The Sons of Liberty Book 2) (77 page)

I have no place. Mom was right. I’m nothing more than an unwanted accident. My men hate me. Dad will reject me when I come back dishonored. I have no future. There is no hope. No God. No good left in this world. There is nothing here for me. So I, Lukas Ryan Chambers, a child of sorrow, will muster up the courage I can, put a barrel in my mouth just like Mom, and leave it all behind.

Lukas lowered the journal to the table beside him, pausing to take a long drink of whisky. He wondered what would have happened had he followed through with his intentions nearly thirty years ago. He had always believed fate had been guiding him to greatness, like some magical force that governed his soul. Now, as Lukas failed to suppress the despair that arose when he dwelled on all he had lost, he began to wonder if fate had been mocking him all along, watching the child of sorrow fall into a laughable despair.

He reached beside him again, his hands hovering over his journal for a moment. Instead of grabbing the old leather book, he reached past it and took hold of a tablet. He powered it on and smiled as Maria’s face lit up the screen. Tears beaded in Lukas’ eyes as he scrolled through an album that chronicled his wife from the day they first met to the hour he betrayed her.

You betrayed her,
Lukas thought, his tears warping the image—skewing her beautiful face.
You already skewed her face. You are the reason she left!

Lukas breathed in deeply in an effort to avoid outright weeping. He knew he alone was the reason she left. He had tried and failed to lay the blame at the feet of others, but even that was a lie Lukas couldn’t bring himself to believe. In the end, he was left with only questions about her whereabouts and the sad feeling that he was still worth nothing more than a single bullet.

The lights overhead shut off, leaving Lukas with only the light from the tablet and the glow of the fire to illuminate the room. Lukas looked about curiously and was about to stand when the tablet’s screen flickered. Lukas looked down at the tablet, a sudden wave of shock rolling over him.

Adam Reinhart opened his eyes and began to speak.

“We the people, of a lost and battered dream, have suffered greatly through these days of night. We have trekked the wild roads of chaos, fighting each other as we struggled for survival. We spent months battling neighbor, slaying friend, and committing deplorable acts of which we would not have imagined ourselves capable of doing one year ago. So tell me, can we, the people, reawaken the dream that we once stood united behind?”

Lukas slowly leaned forward in his wheelchair, his heart beating inside his chest as rage and hatred began to swell within him.

“We the broken, a scattered remnant of deceived brothers and sisters, have constantly found ourselves lost among a sea of fire and madness. Far too often we have cowered alone, wondering what horrors tomorrow will unleash. Uncertainty, sorrow, and doubt have filled our hearts as we all struggled to find our place. But tell me, are we more than a broken nation? Are we more than the fear that marinates in us all?”

Adam paused, lowering his eyes for a moment. When his eyes rose again to face the camera, a visible indignation burned upon his gaze. Though he spoke softly, his words roared like a lion.

“We the furious, who have been prodded like cattle for the slaughter, have hungered for retribution. We have been betrayed, we have been abandoned, and we have been left to rot with our hatred. We have longed to watch those responsible for our plight pay for their crimes. Still, I cannot help but think, would vengeance bring us the closure we seek? Would a lifetime spent pursuing revenge destroy our capacity to become the good people we had once been? I wonder if we, the people, can mend what was broken, suffocate the rage that binds us, and begin the process of true healing. What dream can we dream that would bring restoration? What words can we say to reawaken the united people we once were?”

Adam paused again before raising a small piece of paper.

“Peace, for the homeless and banished.

Calm, for broken of men.

Joy, so that sorrow may vanish.

And freedom, to gather the kin.

“A shield, to protect the blameless.

A helmet, to defend and endure.

A sword, to overcome the shameless.

And hope, to remember the pure.

“Now arise, oh ye warriors of God,

And stand strong against the agents of hell.

For by the saints within, slain are the dragons of men,

Declaring that righteousness will now prevail.”

Adam lowered the paper, his gaze bore into the screen, causing Lukas’ hands to shake.

“My name is Adam Reinhart, President of the United States, and I come to you today from a fortress in Central Arkansas that refused to abandon the greatness of our past. We are strong, we stand united in defense of the indefensible, and we are not afraid to shout to the world that we will exist as a Christian nation, united under God! To those of you scattered here in what was once a great and mighty country…I say let us remember the words that greeted millions for a century. Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. I beseech you to join me and remember the dream we once shared. And to those of you watching this from around the world—be it the ruins of Europe, the sands of the Middle East, the jungles of South America, the wilderness of Africa, or the mountains of Asia—I implore you to remember the good within. Stand against the darkness that has tried to reshape the world in its own image. Unite with us so that we may become a beacon of light to push back against this terrible blackness. My friends, my brothers and sisters, now is the time for the world to remember what was lost. Thank you, and may God bless those who dare to remember the light.”

The screen flashed white, glowing brightly before returning to Maria’s face. A few seconds passed and the dimmed lights overhead resumed with a quiet hum. Lukas quivered, gazing at the photo of the wife he had lost as he thought about those he loathed. He had nearly lost everything four months ago, only to survive the Battle of DC and raise his own empire from the ashes of the United States—all while believing Adam dead and America destroyed.

Despite all his great and monumental victories, Lukas Chambers had never felt more conquered.

Your wife has abandoned you. The warriors you valued most have died because of your pride. Adam Reinhart lives, America lives, even Sigmund lives! Only you have lost!

Lukas raised the tablet and roared as he heaved it across the room. It struck the stone hearth, the screen shattering into a descending cloud of glass particles that twinkled with the firelight. As Lukas lowered his head and finally began to weep, someone knocked at the door.

“Go away,” Lukas spoke, wiping the tears from his eyes. After a pause, the door opened. Lukas turned and was about to shout as Jacob walked through the door. “Please. Not now, Jacob.”

Jacob paused, surveying Lukas before entering the room without a word. Lukas sat quietly, watching the older man as he walked over to the nightstand, poured himself a glass, and sat down across from him—staring into the fire without a word. After a lengthy pause, Jacob finally spoke.

“We will find her, my son. You are not the only one who longs to know Maria’s whereabouts.”

“You know she did this,” Lukas said, leaning over to clumsily pour himself another glass. “She wasn’t taken. There is no ransom or exchange coming. We would have heard something by now.”

“It has only been eight days,” Jacob replied. “Give it time.”

“Time?” Lukas said, taking a long drink. “You know, my whole life I have tried to manipulate fate and time. I have tried to bend them both to my will. Now, seeing everything it has cost me, I cannot help but wonder if I have finally overstepped myself and advanced beyond my capabilities.”

“Are you saying you regret the path you’ve walked?” Jacob asked curiously.

“It’s hard to read this old journal without regret,” Lukas replied, motioning to the journal beside him. “So much fear. So much anger. I was a fool. I
am
a fool! In my selfishness I drove her away and failed to destroy those who would see me fall.”

“Did you now?” Jacob said, inclining his head as he glanced over. “Lukas, what is the goal?”

“The goal?”

“What is your purpose?” Jacob asked. “Why do you exist?”

“I…I don’t—”

“We all have a purpose, Lukas,” Jacob said, speaking with his hands, though not one drop of whisky fell from the glass he held that glowed amber with the blaze. “One man might be destined to spend ten thousand hours sitting upon a chair before he discovers a final cure for cancer. Another man might exist purely to build that very chair. One man much less important, but even the chair maker’s purpose is necessary in the grand scheme. The trick to understanding your purpose is to understand that you will never achieve your purpose with one great and mighty victory. Success requires years of small victories, conquests that shape and fashion us into the men we are to become. The greater you are, the smaller your victories might seem over the years. To you, a victory in New Orleans might seem like a grand defeat, but there are now millions free from the Patriarchs because of you and the empire you have forged. Millions, Lukas, who will go on to build chairs and cure diseases wherever they may go. So why not beckon them to join the man who freed them?”

“You think I exist to free people?”

“Perhaps,” Jacob replied. “For now, I believe their fate is not the question that matters most.”

“And what question does matter most?” Lukas asked, his eyes narrowing with inquisitiveness.

“Lukas,” Jacob began, leaning forward. “Do you feel that you are now the man you are destined to become—never to exceed who you are today? Or do you think becoming Sovereign might have simply been another small victory leading up to the grand finale?”

Lukas hesitated, staring at Jacob quietly. He wanted to believe decades of trial and sacrifices had shaped him into the ruler he was destined to become, but he couldn’t seem to dwell on anything but his failures.

“I don’t know,” Lukas finally replied with a sigh. “I want to believe I am still destined for greatness, but I read over my old words and cannot help but see how much potential I squandered. I want to be fearless. I want to be greater than I am today. I want…I long to see the world flock to my embrace—not because I force them to their knees, but because they know there is none greater than I am.”

“Indeed,” Jacob replied, his eyes widening and his lips curving to a smile as Lukas finished. Something about Lukas’ words clearly ignited a blazing delight in Jacob, though Lukas—now combating the onset of a blissful drunkenness—couldn’t decide what he had said to do so. Jacob set his glass down and reached over to grab the journal. Lukas looked over, though he didn’t argue as Jacob took the old book and flipped through the pages. Eventually, Jacob looked up from the pages and over at Lukas, raising the journal.

“Are you ashamed of the man that resides within these paper walls?” Jacob asked.

“I would be lying if I said I wasn’t,” Lukas replied.

Jacob hesitated before standing up slowly and tossing the book into the fire. Lukas immediately shouted, dropping his glass as he reached for the flames. Jacob was out of his chair, grabbing ahold of Lukas, easily holding him down in the wheelchair.

“Why?” Lukas whispered as his journal began to burn.

“Do you want to be magnificent?” Jacob asked slowly. ‘Do you want to become more than a man?”

“I….” Lukas hesitated. He wanted to remake the world into his image, but he didn’t know if he could bear the burden that came with victory. Finally, Lukas looked up from the flames and firmed his jaw.

“You know I do.”

“War has swept across the world,” Jacob said, standing tall. “Rebellions in Europe stand on the verge of uniting against what I have begun to forge. A fierce stronghold that has held back giants for months now presses outward in Asia. Africa and the Middle East have become a religious battleground, where Muslims wage their holy war against anyone that believes differently than they do. And while the entire world ripens for the harvest, a single man broadcasting from a small town in central Arkansas attempts to give them all a hope that is far different than your promises. Now tell me, do you want the frightened men and women of this continent to unite behind his hope or your greatness?”

Lukas’ anger burned like the pages that now crumbled into a heap of ruin. For months he had wondered if Adam was dead, only to hear now that he lived and had remade the nation Lukas had worked so hard to destroy.

“You know the answer to that question,” Lukas growled.

“Do you want to unite not only this land, but the entire world beneath your feet?” Jacob asked.

“With all my heart.”

“And what would you be willing to give up to fulfill your destiny?” Jacob asked. “Would you consider my daughter a worthwhile sacrifice? Would you abandon your hatred for Sigmund and Adam? Would you be willing to forfeit your very life to become greater than any man that has ever lived?”

Lukas’ eyes narrowed as he gazed back at Jacob. Lukas wondered if this were some ploy, though he couldn’t see anything Jacob would gain. As Lukas searched deep within him for an answer, he was nearly surprised with the confidence in his voice as he spoke.