The Flame of Wrath (53 page)

             
Aurea's voice dropped to a deadly hiss. She carefully enunciated each word. “Bring me, Angelos.”

             
Markus and Galen disappeared from the room to retrieve their imprisoned brother-in-arms. Silently, they brought his weak body into the Imperial wing.

             
Dark hair hung around his slumped head. His wrists were bound. Beneath his underarms, the hands of his former peers held him firmly. His legs dragged limply over the marble floors until they came to a stop.

             
Angelos lifted his head. He could see her. The Empress stood watching him keenly from behind the canopy. He could distinctly make out the sultry line of her body.

             
Aurea held her hands together as she took a single step forward. Her hands were the knife which sliced precisely through the curtains. She parted their length, creating an opening through which she stepped. Her taut leg peeked through first, showcasing the shapely curve of her thigh.

             
From the shadows, two women appeared. Together with downcast heads, they pulled a whispered robe over her waiting arms, guiding it to rest against her shoulders. Then as quietly as they had come, they withdrew.

             
“Angelos,” she began.

             
The Empress descended the steps with a feline silence in her steps. “What an utter disappointment you have turned out to be?” Stopping directly before the man, she watched over him all too aware of how her gaze could make a soul feel minuscule. She intensified her gaze. “You were meant to help create a new dawn for our people and now---” She lowered her voice, causing it to drip with venom. “You have sentenced yours to death.”

             
Angelos tensed. He thought of the people of his kingdom, but he knew that was not what the Empress meant. No, Knights Reign had remained loyal to Virtue. Aurea was referring to his childhood home, the home of his ancestors. Aurea wanted Angel's destruction.

             
Urgently, he shook his head. “No,” he begged hoarsely.

             
The golden Empress looked away in disinterest. “What am I to do, Angelos? I ask you. Your people cannot be permitted to live. They know of the---” She stopped, uttering the next few words to follow with an undeniable level of disgust. “---Other's conception.” She was fuming, but schooled her voice to sighed exasperation. “It ruins my beautiful vision for the new world.”

             
Angelos could feel his nausea washing over him in waves.

“Virtue,” she explained, “is meant to be the one true religion. If another exists to disprove my theology, then I am made to look like a fool, like a liar. So again, I ask you... What am I to do?”

              Before Angelos could even utter a word, Aurea spoke yet again.

             
“Perhaps,” she said, “considering your years of service, I could permit you one last opportunity to prove yourself. You did not actually make a decision between Autumn and myself so technically you did not betray me.” She paused only briefly. “Still, I wonder. Should the time come when you must make a choice between your sister and I, whom will you choose?”

             
Aurea returned her eyes to lock heavily on dark eyes clouded by exhaustion and hunger. Slowly, she took possession of the hilt of a nearby sword. She drew the weapon from her unquestioning Knight then aimed its tip directly beneath Angelos' jaw. She used the flat of the blade to lift his head. With his face upturned to peer directly into her own, she went on. “Whom do you serve?”

             
“My family,” Angelos answered.

             
“And who is your family?”

             
Angelos closed his eyes. He knew without question that if Aurea wished to see her surroundings scarlet, she would not hesitate to shed a being's blood simply to have it appease her mood. This instant was no different. His life was inconsequential. He swallowed the sickening lump rising in his throat. Tears streamed silently down his cheeks. “You, my Empress,” he answered, “and all beings of Virtue.”

             
Arching her brow, Aurea studied him. She weighed the sincerity of his answer. With an undecided slowness, she lowered the weapon.

             
Angelos released a breath of relief. She has decided to be merciful, he thought gratefully.

             
His eyes widened fearfully as the sword rose with unnatural speed then came crashing down. He screamed loudly and closed his eyes.

             
Inside the silent chambers, the sound of the sword impacting against the marble resounded within their ears. Aurea released her sword, letting it fall to the ground once devoid of purpose. As the crashing sword clanged against the floor, she turned her back. She stared forward to her waiting bed.

             
Over her shoulder, Aurea heard the sounds of disbelief. She allowed that feeling to linger in the air, but a mere moment before speaking again. “Kill Soren and the abomination,” she commanded.

             
Shakily, Angelos stared at his wrists. At the floor beneath him, he took note of two things. The first was the rope fallen away to a bitter memory while the second was a shining sword resting unwanted upon the ground.

             
Aurea waited, presenting more of her back to Angelos. She knew him. She knew he inwardly salivated at the opportunity to take hold of that sword and strike her down with it. She could all but feel his inner struggle. And yet, she was not afraid. She had seen the glimmers of will inside him fall. It was broken beyond any hope of repair.

             
The Empress turned her head as if to listen for his innermost thoughts.

             
“What if----?” Angelos stopped. He nervously rubbed his sweating palms over his tattered pants.

             
“What?” Aurea sighed in annoyance.

             
“What if I could kill Soren and the child, but----?”

             
Aurea's brow arched. She began to understand. “You wish to spare Autumn,” she reasoned.

             
Sighing loudly, Angelos nodded his head.

             
“Autumn will always stand against me,” Aurea murmured. “She's promised her life to my ruination.”

             
Angelos heard his heart pounding.

             
“Do you honestly believe that if you kill her child, she'll forgive you? Do you think she'll stop trying to come for me knowing that it was by my order that
it
was murdered?”

             
The disgraced Knight had a flashed memory of his sister's eyes. He could clearly remember the seething emotion he had seen within them on her journey home from war. The mere mention Empress had done this. He knew then that Autumn would never stop. She would keep coming for Aurea until one of them or both of them were dead.

             
“Perform a kindness for your sister if you truly love her,” Aurea purred. Her voice suddenly grew cold. “Keep their cursed family united. Let her die with her beloved druid and the bastard child.”

             
With defeat weighting his entire being, Angelos spoke scarcely above a whisper. “It will be done, my Empress.”

             
“Then go.” Aurea ascended the steps to her bed which existed on a plane high above all things. “And do not fail me again.”

             
Angelos was aided to his feet by his smiling brothers and sisters. They tenderly helped him to leave the room, promising him food and fresh clothes. He could only glance over his shoulder as Aurea disappeared behind the gentle cloak of crimson. As he watched, the doors were ushered closed.

             
As Aurea came to sit down among the vibrant silks, she stared out to the remains of discarded bonds. The soft rustling of fabric coming from behind her came as a forewarning of her lover's approach. She felt a warm arm drape itself over her shoulder then reach around to hug her neck. Her hand snaked upward to gently squeeze Maven's forearm.

             
“You allowed him to live,” Maven said. She made no attempt to mask her surprise. Gently, she pressed her breasts against her lover's back. As she turned her head, she nuzzled her nose into satin strands of sun-kissed hair. Her lips moved with each word. “Why not simply kill him?”

             
“I have need of him,” Aurea answered. She leaned her head to the side. Offering her neck, she felt the slow seductive kisses beginning to line her skin.

             
“You need no one, my Love.”

             
“Oh but I need you,” Aurea countered absently.

             
Maven smiled slowly against her lover's shoulder. It was a lie. No matter how beautiful that lie might sound, she thought. She knew that Aurea needed nothing except power and no one possessed more power than Aurea. Still, that Aurea had even attempted to make her feel needed touched her.

             
As if Aurea grew lost in her own thoughts, she succumbed to speaking her softly murmured musings aloud. “In any event, I need Angelos to live a little while longer,” she said. “He'll want me to believe that all his resources are going to hunting Soren, but I'll know differently. He'll want to find Autumn before I can because he'll attempt to spare her. In his mind, he's devising ways to somehow spare her from what will happen if I find her first.” She glared into nothingness. She saw Autumn's face gazing down at her while she remained tied to the stake. “Who better to track her than her guilt-ridden brother?”

             
A slow and seductive smile played across Aurea's face.

             
Honored Mother
, echoed maniacally throughout her mind. She scorned the words. Oh how she loathed them. She replaced them with words which fueled her hatred, words which gave life to righteous indignation.
Traitor. Whore.

             
“I'll wipe out the Angels bloodline in one final blow.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Retribution's bells are tolling. The ghosts are singing their cries for vengeance. Together, they rise with the fog.

----The Book of Wrath

********

 
             
The forest floor whimpered in protest beneath the weight of the feet trampling across its surface. Whatever quietly spoken enticements Nature uttered were squashed. They were replaced by the sounds of determined pursuers.

             
The trackers were flashes of color. Their busy movements found them dancing from one group of trees to another like chaotic cardinals. Still no matter how driven their efforts were, their coveted prey still eluded them. It would seem that they were always mere hours behind the ones they sought.

             
The hours dragged from night into a new day.  Before long, the early approaches of evening had come. With its arrival, weariness began to play a role in the chase. The distance between them was lessening significantly. Soon, the hunt would end.

********

              Beast and rider charged forward with a feral intensity present within their kindred eyes. The terrain covered had been treacherous. It promised to only grow more difficult as the day ticked on.

             
Bursting over a gaping riverbed, a powerful giant carried his charge. His white fur was matted by burs from the chase. Its shining perfection was marred by mud. As he attacked the earth with his enraged strides, he felt two hands gripping to his fur in an attempt to steady his rider.

             
The horizon warped as his vision blurred. His strength was waning, but he had yet to reach the safety of their haven.

             
Not yet
, he panicked.

             
His herculean stride faltered. It was then that omnipotent strength gave way to mortal life.  The enormous wolf's legs buckled. He collapsed, sliding with merciless momentum over the ground.

             
The titan's head rested against the ground weakly. From his parted mouth came the haggard rasps of exhaustion. He growled, baring his dagger-like teeth. That thunderous sound gave way to a whimper. He howled mournfully while beginning the transformation from beast to man.

             
“Soren,” Autumn uttered sadly. She watched over the panting druid as he shivered. 

             
His naked body was covered in sheets of sweat. He had struggled so hard to keep them ahead of the hunters tracking their every move. Still, they had each known that it would only be a matter of time before he could go no further. Sadly, that time was now.

             
Soren had exhausted both, his magic and his body. There was nothing left for him to do but rest.

             
Looking upward, Autumn caught a glimpse of the sky. Dusk valiantly dared to peek between the trees. It fell alongside realization to her waiting eyes.

             
With a quietly approaching clarity, she knew what must be done. She would fight. She had to. After all, Soren was the last of his kind. Was that fact not worth protecting?

             
Her hand slowly slipped to touch her abdomen. The feverish heat which resided there reminded her that Soren was not the only soul facing extinction.

             
As her resolve steeled, Autumn promised herself that she would fight with her last breath to protect the child she carried within her womb. Her eyes quickly scoured their surroundings. Her mind raced. She focused her attention on any and all makeshift weapons. She had even made a plan for the best possible shelter for Soren when suddenly her heart stopped.

             
The crisp sound of foliage breaking underfoot reverberated loudly throughout her core. Autumn froze. Someone was behind her, drawing closer by the moment.

             
She glanced down at Soren. Exhaustion had claimed him as its victim. He was helpless. Her fist tightened as her body grew taut with readiness.

             
She imagined the first instant she would hold her baby within her arms. She envisioned the beauty of her child's smile then the sweetness of her baby's voice. She longed for those things, to know them with the same vivid recall her father had shown her entire life. She would not have it taken away from her.

             
With a low growl, Autumn whirled around to face her attackers.

             
Stillness overtook the Queen in the same instant that it filled the woods.

             
Every particle of air was a visible speck within the sunlight. The birds refused to sing out of reverence. The wind refused to blow. A sea of armored men and women knelt within Nature's temple. Their solemn expressions were radiant beneath the golden sunset. Yet it was the tears which lined their disbelieving eyes that caught the light so readily.

             
Autumn felt the tension of her body leaving as her every muscle realized that there was no need to fight. Her eyes welled slowly with tears.

             
A woman wearing the scarlet gloss of Aurea's soldiers peered out at Autumn from behind the mask of her helmet. Her eyes were a loving brown. She extended her arms while offering up a long bundle. “For you, Highness,” she said gently.

             
The dark-haired Queen accepted the gift with a cautious air. She warily unwrapped the object. What dwelt within reveled in the light.

             
A bronze hilt flashed brightly. Swaddled lovingly beside it was a golden hilt, the Queen recognized all too easily as her father's sword. Autumn released a quavering breath as she drew her sword from the cloth. She lifted her eyes to see that two other soldiers held out their hands.

             
They pulled away the coverings to show the Queen's armor and shield.

             
As her bluing eyes roved over the distance, Autumn began to see hands rising to remove their helmets.  One by one, she recognized the faces of her men.

             
Emotions wreaked havoc at her legs. They robbed them of their strength until Autumn collapsed. She dropped to her knees and wept.

             
“We are with you, my Queen,” she heard. It rang out like tolls chiming from a tower somewhere in the distance.

             
Autumn lifted her eyes. Through her tears, she locked eyes with Zahara. It was Zahara who had protected her swords so dutifully.

             
“We are with you, Honored Mother,” came another voice. Autumn turned her head to see Echo's shimmering brown eyes.

             
The stormy blue-gray of Autumn's eyes witnessed the overwhelming loyalty so clearly housed within each pair of eyes to gaze back at her. Her words struggled to choke past the lump inside her throat. “I am hunted by the Empress, my family,” she said. “If you stand by me, you will all die.”

             
“We are staying with you,” a voice uttered from above.

             
Lifting her head, Autumn smiled as she took in Frost so calmly poised as a lookout within the trees. She realized then that her men were emerging from every conceivable direction. Narrowing her eyes, she scanned the horizon until she could begin to make out the blended bodies of others lost within their surroundings.

             
Returning to the discussion at hand, Autumn spoke. “Your families could be in danger.”

             
“Our families are already in danger,” Echo argued. “As long as Aurea reigns there is no safe place for anyone. She must be stopped and you now have the authority to do it as the Holy Mother.”

             
Zahara captured Autumn's gaze. “Any families within the province fled with us when we learned of your capture,” she assured her. “Their loyalties are to you.”

             
“You still have an army, cousin,” Echo said. Her voice was a soothing promise. “The fight is not over. It is only beginning. Lead us. The others are awaiting your orders.”

             
Autumn frowned thoughtfully. “Others?”

             
“You control the armies of three provinces,” Zahara said. Judging by the faces present, she knew that Autumn could clearly see that the allied provinces were still aligned with Angels. “And there are others.”

             
“Throughout the land, those who abhor Aurea's cruelty have begun organizing themselves,” Echo said. “Anyone loyal to the old ways has banned together.” Her eyes were alight with hope. “There are clusters throughout Pyros. They are with us... with you, Honored Mother.”

             
Autumn was struck silent. Inwardly, she marveled at the news that there were others like them who existed within the Empire.

             
Others opposed Aurea
, she thought
.

             
She blinked suddenly, realizing the reverent words spoken in addressing her. It crept upon her. Its touch caused her skin to prickle coolly.
Honored Mother.
She was the Honored Mother.

             
The Queen placed her hand against her abdomen. The incredible heat which she had felt before was still there. It rose and fell in intensity like a beating heart.

             
“I must speak with the others,” she said, “but not here. The province is no longer safe and the trackers are but---” Autumn's voice trailed off as she observed the slow-spreading smiles overtaking those in her command. She smiled inwardly as she realized that her men had obviously encountered the supposed problem of the trackers and seen to it.

             
“There is a place,” Soren uttered weakly. His voice surprised the others. He sat up slowly with Myth's help. She offered up her cape, wrapping it around his exposed body. “I had hoped to take my brothers there once but----” His crimson eyes grew sad and alone.

             
Reaching out, Autumn gently squeezed his shoulder. “You
will
bring your family home to it, my friend,” she whispered. “Your family will simply look a bit different than you had first believed.”

             
Soren smiled for the first time in what felt like ages. “Yes,” he said. His voice was a dreamy sigh.  He allowed the words to roll within his mouth, savoring the feel of them. “My family.”

             
Together, they exchanged meaningful gazes.

             
Myth spoke softly. “Highness, there is more.” She paused, seeing the hesitant expressions of those around her. She knew then that no one wished to say what she was forced to utter next. “Angels Province has been surrounded. Aurea's men are poised to strike,” she said. “They're going to destroy everything.”

             
Autumn swayed slightly. “But why?” she asked hoarsely. She shook her head, unable to imagine such a massacre. “The province is loyal to the crown. There are Virtuous churches throughout!”

             
“But that isn't enough for Aurea,” Zahara sighed. “She wants to wipe out anyone who might know of your baby.”

             
As tears stung bitterly at her eyes, Autumn's face twisted in denial. “My brother would never allow this to happen,” she declared.

             
“The Knights are leading the attack,” Zahara countered. She added the next words with as much gentleness as she could, but she understood that however it was said, it would still hurt the Queen. “Angelos is leading them.”

             
Autumn groaned under her breath. She looked away, overcome with sickness. She fought to steady her breathing, hoping to fend off being ill. “He wouldn't---” she whispered. “How can he do this to his people?”

             
“To the Empress this is another form of cleansing,” Soren explained gently. “We're all that stands as a reminder of the very thing she's trying to deny. We have proof that the old ways are not gone.”

             
“But that doesn't explain why Angelos would do this,” Autumn snapped. “Has he forgotten all we were taught? Does duty mean nothing to him?” She stopped, shaking her head wildly. “It's not right. Has he no honor?”

             
“No,” Soren answered with a sense of finality.

             
Autumn narrowed her eyes on the druid then lowered her head in defeat. She could not begrudge him his anger toward the Knights or Angelos more specifically. After all, they had committed mass genocide in Aurea's name. Nor could she argue with Soren's words. It was clear to her that her brother had sided with Aurea to save his life. As she felt the presence of those around her, she knew without doubt that each of these warriors would have chosen death above the murder of innocents.

             
Then a thought came to her. Were they so innocent, she wondered.  The people had pleaded for her to be burned. As she thought of their tearful faces, she realized the truth. She knew that fear of Aurea's wrath had led them to react as they had. They were not bad people only frightened.