The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth (67 page)

“I have yer box, I am Azenairk Thalanaxe, the heir to Kakisteele. I am here to…” Zen hung his head, confused, then he felt anger.

“It don’t matter who you is
or what ye have
. We all end up the same, and so do all who have dared pass into these lands.” His voice grew faint, his steps far ahead now, black shadows danced where his still shadow should have trailed.

“
Side by side, let’s finish it.” Saberrak walked ahead, patting Zen’s shoulder, and stood with him. He raised his horns, stared into the throneroom ahead, and gripped his axes tight. He could faintly make out a figure on the throne, but it was immersed in shadow.

“Aye
.”

“All the way, like I said. To whatever end, Azenairk.” Shinayne stood with Saberrak, took a sideways stance, and raised her chin high.

“By Alden, and all the others, I say we set this place free once and for all.” James saluted the throneroom.

“That’s the spirit, James. Allright, Gwenneth, any last words?” Zen tapped his hammer to his shield and grinned.

“The only last words you will here, shall be
H
ers
.” Gwenne’s eyes flashed with electricity, white pulses that matched the green
glowing
staff in her hand, and she smiled
into the throneroom of Kakisteele
.

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Harron saluted with his hand held high, and his loyal captains knelt before him, all but his son. He made a fist, letting his trailing legion of cavalry to halt before the ruined outpost. He looked west, the sun was rising through a cloudy horizon. The Lord Amirak of Armondeen gazed up, Gimmor was full and Carice was but a crescent in the early morning sky, as Andorra said it would be. Four legions of infantry remained on a knee as he passed
the tents
, his cavalry pulling up to them and dismounting as he neared the hill where his knights and lords awaited
his arrival
.

“And where is the storm that has circled this place for supposed thousands of years?” He laughed as he dismounted his black stallion.

Sir Yaelsh smiled, with his scarred cheek and lip, then stood with a high handed salute next to Prince Rohne.
His black hair was short, his armor gleaming and black, and his eyes had a wild
dark
look to them.
“
My Lord Amirak, the winds were gone when we arrived. I say, they never were.
My men thirst for some killing, I hope that carava
n arrives to quench it
.
”

“Direct, as usual. Glad to have you and yours, Yaelsh.”

“I have seen
them, when I neared these lands
years ago. Black and mighty, impassible indeed. But now, just a circling gray breeze, my brother.” Bishop Thohne rose and embraced his older brother. They looked like twins, only the wrinkles of age set them apart. “The eleven favor us, and have removed the storm to allow us.”

“Indeed.” Harron motioned for Orlimane and Cetreus to rise.

“Welcome, Lord Amirak, the camp is set. It has been difficult to remain outside such a vast ruin. Are you prepared?” Old Lord Cetreus motioned to the packs on his horse. His gray wisps of hair blew in the breeze, as did his stringy black and silver beard.
He seemed impatient and frustrated, as always.

“I am, we have much to do.” Harron climbed to the top of the hill, he looked over the ruins of Mooncrest, the charred temples, the green marble tower, and the vast castles and
dried up
city long forgotten.

“I think the temple district would be fitting, for what we are to bring about.” Sir Orlimane spoke dry and deep, like a grave. His bloated body, thick, fat, and muscular,
wobbled in his heavy armor. His shaved head and layered neck were pale for an Armondi man, yet like all the others
nobles
here, his dark eyes had a smear of blue paint across them
, out of respect for the blue eyed Altestan nobility they were supposedly descended from
.

“My Prince, what are your thoughts.” Harron nodded to his son, keeping his respects, despite present noble company all aware of who his father truly was. Harron knew, as did they, that Ian could not make children with his first queen. Harron knew he had not
the will to try with Andorra,
as did they.

“I agree, Lord Amirak. The summoning should take place in the heart of the once sacred city. The temple district will do, the desecration will be fitting.” Rohne sneered, then turned to his father.

“Your journey was less than boring, I heard.”

“Yes, I stand corrected. The five fugitives, now trespassers in our lands, were not in Freemoore.
However, their followers were. Should Evermont assist them, I will
expect to be allowed on the field
, I owe the Bear of Evermont a brutal death.
”

Harron put a hand on the Prince’s shoulder. “You did well, my Prince. Now we know that the
gathered
forces were not a waste of effort, for a small army and a caravan of refugees are en route. You accomplished much for your kingdom, and have my thanks.”

“Save the flattery for someone you need to impress, Lord Amirak. I know what is said of me in the corners and tents of the soldiers. They follow you, not I.” Rohne turned and looked into the ruins
. “Fear not though, when
Ian is dead, and I am king, that will change.”

“As you wish, your highness. For now, we need to prepare, your mother is waiting
from the tower
.” Harron surveyed the five thousand men making camp in the flatlands north of the hill and outpost. “The camp is good, the men will not see what we are doing. We need not frighten them, in case they are needed.”

“I know, I picked the spot,
father
.
Since I will be standing back here, in safety.
” Rohne walked to get hi
s horse, knowing full well that his mother, Andorra, had give orders that he was to stay away from any danger
or combat
.

“Careful, my prince, titles only here.
Besides, if there is a battle, I will need your courage with the reserve…
”
H
e stopped his comforting lecture.
Harron waved his summoned captains toward him. His son ignored him, and kept his pace away from the hill.

“Men, pick only
your
squ
ires and servants
that
you
trust, or
can
be
kill
ed
if
need be. You will be with me, at the site to welcome Kashtamias, Knight of Infernium.”
Harron received the nods and bows he expected from his four loyal Armondi nobles.

“And the city, brother?” Thohne Vir Magaste looked across the ruins, watched the strange black clouds circling above it, and then gazed to the mountain ridge on the southern edge.

“I need one legion, yours Sir
Yaelsh, if you would. Break them into their ten platoons. Set two on patrol around that ravine, three along that mountain trail, two to the western palace district, two to the east side, and one here at the outpost.” Harron strategically pointed to where he thought any danger might arise, and where the five he was to sacrifice could emerge from.

The Smiling Knight grinned, drew his scimitar, and marched to give the orders. “No looting, not yet, correct Lord Amirak?”

“Correct. We will have time for that after the summoning. And when they appear, I want them alive.”

“And if they struggle or fight?”

“No rape, I need all their appendages, and I need them alive. Understand?” Harron gritted his teeth and tried not to grin. He had fought with Yaelsh many times, in many bloody battles. Keeping him to task was always difficult.

“And the refugees? Prince Rohne mentioned some knights, a lord from Harlaheim, and a dwarven brigade
that accompanies them. If they come?” Lord Cetreus queried.

“We have seen no sight of them west, yet some of my scouts have yet to return.” Sir Orlimane spoke up.

“If they come,
and I hope they do
, we slaughter them all. We take the women as slaves, butcher the men, and hang the children from the temple walls.” Harron nodded with a serious look to his eyes.

“May God watch over us all. Would you all give me an
Amen
?” Thohne made the sign of the feathered cross, backwards on his priestly tabard, and began to laugh. They all followed in chuckles, even Orlimane and Cetreus had trouble keeping their solemn disciplined dispositions.

“
Amusing, enough now.“ Harron wiped his smooth face, as if wiping the smile away. “
We will set the circle in the center of the temples, I will need silence, and
Prince
Rohne will remain back he
re to ensure no one gets anxious
.
Set your men, and meet me there.
”

“
Hail!”
They said in unison the the infamous general of the armies of their kingdom.

“
Hail the eleven, and the son of Shukuru that we will honor, very soon
.” Harron smiled and led the noblility and their servants over the hil
l, out of sight from the main armies
, and into the ruins.
Soldiers with blades a
nd shields, many with halberds
, and some with crossbows, all carried Armondi banners into the city with Sir Yaelsh. They fell into groups of one hundred, as ordered, and marched through Mooncrest to their posts and patrols.

Harron saw many winged forms notice them, from the clouds of black above. He reached into his saddlebags, took out an iron inverted ringed triangle covered in dry blood. He held it up to the sky, to the far off circling demons by the thousands, and it glowed red and a wisp of black smoke trailed behind him as he continued on. The clouds glowed red, the same, and wisps of smoke dangled and grew from them. Harron pointed, saying nothing, to where he would perform the rites to Shukuru. The wisps of smoke went there, from the clouds above, down between the temples,
and touched the ground. Harron
smiled, seeing the demons fade back into the black swirls, and left them to their business.

“You knew the demons
would be there?” Thohne commented upon seeing the infernal magicks already taking place.

“No, but Andorra did. They serve
Zafiel, ruler of Nir
akas. They say he was
close with Arabashiel, a Gimmorian supposedly cursed
to
here, hence his demons above. They recognize and sense the power of their superiors
,
when it is shown with conviction, brother.” Harron smiled, still holding the holy symbol of Shukuru high as they marched in.

“
Conviction, yes
. Blessing that Alden’s faith is not so aware.” Bishop Thohne laughed again.

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Their steps were slow, cautious, yet side by side the five companions w
a
lked the golden
floor
of the throneroom. Dark shades of figures
danced along the cavernous walls,
to their left and right
green fires roared from giant black braziers filled with skulls, and the air was a tangi
ble heavy force of thick suffocating stale air
. The towering golden throne ahead only fifty feet, smothered in
circling
shadow
s
, they saw
the cursed dwarf,
Mudre
n Sheldathain
,
take a knee on the steps that led to where he must have once sat as king.

“My mistress, my Gimmorian Queen of Judgement, they have arrived.” His defeated and hollow voice echoed in the once lustrous and holy place, now full of darkness, death, and eternal torments of the past.

“
Sit next to me,
servant
.” The shadows parted, black feathered wings unfolded, and Arabashiel
, the thirteenth Gimmorian immortal,
opened her purple gleaming eyes.

They froze, the mere glance of her seductive smile and dark glowing eyes halted their steps with unseen power. She stood, to a height of nearly twelve feet, her wings stretched with black feathers to twice that across, and her body looked to be made of dark green marble. Smooth it was, without an imperfection,
and white iron chain garments over her breasts and hips were her only coverings. Her hair moved, long and black to the floor, waves of straight midnight that danced with the shadows around her. Pointed black nails, gleaming
black teet
h with slightly enlarged canines
, and her face appeared to be carved by divine artisans. Despite the darkness that emanated from Arabashiel, she was
intoxicating to behold. Her small telltale horns barely shown, appearing as a circlet of black curled spikes that made a ring around her forehead and hid into her hair.
Those lustful feminine purple eyes blin
ked slowly,
she spoke
in whispers, and
she stretched as if she had been sleeping for centuries.