Jessica held her breath. Where is Daenon? She thought. I can hardly believe he hasn’t said or done anything against us. She looked at her father. The light surrounding him was slowly fading.
For a full ten minutes no one spoke and not a soul moved. What could they be thinking? Jessica wondered. Is death so preferable to peace, they must take so much time to think about it? A skirmish broke out towards the northern tip of the Demarian line. Jessica stood, but could not see exactly what was happening. John stood at attention, he too watched the fighting. “Jessica,” he whirled around to face her. “Send me another lightning bolt.”
“Another lightning bolt?” she questioned. I don’t know how I made the first one. Raising the sword above her head and gripping it tightly in both hands, she held her breath. Another lightning bolt, huh? Nothing happened.
The clash of steel grew louder, as the skirmish had spread to other sections of the Demarian line. Screams of women and children could be heard above the ringing of metal on metal. “Come on Jessica!” her father yelled. “I need that power now!”
Looking up at the blade in her grasp, Jessica concentrated on the clear ball at its end. She turned toward the sun, its rays full in her face. Closing her eyes, she imagined Edia, bathed in the sun’s life giving light. She ‘saw’ the planet, felt her pain at the loss of nearly a million of her children.
“Bree…Bree…Bree.” She whispered. As if in response, a flash of fire shot from the soles of Jessica’s feet upward through her body. It poured from her hands into the Sword of Mercy. She opened her eyes. The crystal ball pulsed once again with power. Focusing on the clear sphere, she willed it to burst into flame. She became a human conduit, with energy traveling from the ground she stood on to steel clutched in her hands. With a mighty effort, she swung around and pointed the sword at her father. The arc of lightning he needed shot to the waiting Sword of Judgment.
John caught the force without flinching. With the Sword of Judgment now alive in his hand he turned toward the fighting Demarians. He raised the weapon above his head and, as if casting a fishing rod, he threw an energy bolt directly in front of the deadly chaos. An enormous explosion hammered the dry earth. Tons of sand shot up and rained down upon the stunned Demarians. A crater, nearly twenty feet wide and five feet deep was created.
“People of Demar, stop this fighting now!” John roared, his voice filled with authority. “Throw down your weapons. If you do not, I will obliterate you with the next bolt of power.”
Jessica collapsed after sending her light to John. She now had a much better understanding of the relationship between the sister swords. When her father threatened the warring desert people, her heart sank. He can’t be serious. I don’t have enough energy to stand, let alone conjure up another bomb.
John did not speak again. It took nearly a half hour for anyone on the field to move. At last, a Demarian commander stepped from the line of soldiers and walked to Lepsis. Jessica could see the two conversing, but she could not hear their words. At length, the officer stepped back, unsheathed his weapons and dropped them at Lepsis’ feet. Turning to face John, he bowed slightly, then returned to his troops. After several more long minutes, a few Demarian men followed his example, then gradually, by tens and twenties, then hundreds, soldiers stepped forward and threw their weapons on the ground. Jessica rose to her feet, remaining upon her hill during this ceremony. Her father never moved an inch.
To her amazement, not only men come forward, but also women and many children. Not all the Demarians surrendered however. Many shouted curses and obscenities at those who opted for peace. Jessica learned these were mostly Elitet, and they fled westward before they could be stopped or captured.
Lepsis later reported the gist of his brief conversation with the Demarian commander. Without Daenon screaming at them and feeding their hate, the desert people, tired of death and war, decided for themselves to try the path of peace. The battling in the northern ranks broke out because the Elitet would rather have seen the people dead than surrender.
An hour after the Demarians began dispersing, John descended the hill. Lepsis dismounted and the two men clasped arms. “You have amazing timing, Lepsis,” John grinned. “Without you we’d be knee deep in bodies right now.”
“I knew you’d never attack without giving the desert people a chance to walk away with dignity. I thought I might be able to help, but it was the display of fire that convinced most of them.”
“And that would never have been possible without Jessica,” John stated.
“Dad!” Jessica came tearing down her little hill.
“Jess!” John ran toward his daughter. He caught her up and swung her around. “I was so worried. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you on that hill. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Dad. Look what I found, the Sword of Mercy!” She held it out to him and he reverently took it.
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” He turned it over in his hand. Giving it back to her he said, “It’s yours now. You’ve learned its secrets.”
“I’ve got a feeling I’ve only scratched the surface,” she said, and slipped the blade through the sash at her middle. “When you asked for that second bolt of power, I felt a little like She-ra calling on the powers of Grayskull.”
John smiled. “That was your favorite cartoon growing up.”
Slipping her arm through her father’s and grabbing Lepsis with her other, Jessica walked to the Esparian line amid wild cheers. A handsome, white-blond giant stood out from the rejoicing soldiers. He approached the trio and bowed low to Jessica. John made the introductions in fluent Giant.
“Prince Tor of the Colossus Mountains, I would like to present my daughter, Protectoress Jessica Ernshaw of the house of Saylon.”
“How do you do,” Jessica said, holding out her hand to the giant. He gingerly took, then kissed the offered hand, a move which impressed her. She didn’t realize she was speaking Giant
Speaking slowly, in simple, carefully chosen words, he explained to her what happened with the note and how he had seen the Elitet seize her in the Colossus forest. It seemed important to him that she understand a rogue giant assisted with the trap.
Jessica reached up and placed her hand on the giant’s thick arm. “I understand. I don’t hold you responsible.”
Tor smiled. “Thank you.” To John he said, “We will go home now. I must find the guilty one who aided the Elitet. If you ever need us, we’re at your service.”
“And we are forever in your debt,” John bowed to the giant prince. “If we can ever repay you, please allow us to do so.” It did not take long for the giants to load their tents and supplies on their exotic ox-horses. They sang as they toiled, their words rising up in a strange tongue. Jessica tried to comprehend the words, they seemed so close to her understanding, but they eluded her.
“Tor, what song is this? The tune is so lively, but the words, I …”
“It is ancient Esparian, a dead language. We no longer speak it, but there are some of my people who have been appointed to be the keepers of all that once was. They teach us the meaning of the past, so we never lose the future. This song tells of our beloved mountains, the meadows, and the streams. We have been gone a long time and my men are eager to return. Our aid in this war has been a worthy venture, but our hearts yearn for the sweet smell of our woods, the familiar faces of our friends, and the love of our families. It is time to go home.”
Without warning, Jessica felt an intense yearning for the same thing and tears stung her eyes. “Home,” she whispered.
It was an incredible spectacle to see the giants mount their strange looking beasts and head eastward. “I’m going to miss them.” John stood beside Jessica, watching the receding goliaths. “They take with them the ashes and personal effects of all their fallen brothers. Like us, they never leave a man behind.”
John sighed. “Did you realize you’ve been speaking Giant?”
“What?” Jessica was stunned. I was
speaking English.
John smiled. “No dear daughter, you were speaking Giant. And I think right now we are both speaking Esparian.”
“What are you talking about?” she laughed. “We’re speaking English.”
“Larone told me that we both picked up a little something on our trip here. After my time with Tor my Giant’s quite fluent now. It seems that The Expanse of Gonta gives gifts. Don’t worry,” he patted her shoulder, “you’ll get the hang of it. I finally did.”
Before Jessica could question further she heard a familiar female voice call from the distance. “Jessica!”
Both John and Jessica turned. “Lyrista!” Jessica called back and ran to embrace her friend.
“Well, let me look at you,” Lyrista said, a broad smile on her face. “You’re beautiful Jessica; the most wonderful sight I’ve seen in months.” She hugged the girl once again.
“Come on you two,” John walked up, grinning from ear to ear. “Lepsis and I want to hear all about Jessica’s time at Rendaira.”
Settled in the command tent, Jessica spent the next several hours telling her father, Lyrista, and Lepsis about her last few months. She noticed Lepsis paid particular attention when Merula was mentioned. He looked quite grim when Jessica described how Merula had saved her life by killing Addex.
No one interrupted Jessica’s monologue. She had a gift for storytelling, and with her true-life adventures being more bizarre than fiction, her audience sat spellbound. The only items she failed to include were Daenon’s threat of marriage and parting kiss. The incident still made her skin crawl and she preferred to forget the entire matter.
“So what do you think happened to Daenon?” Jessica asked, signaling the end of her story. “He obviously was not with his troops or they would never have surrendered.”
Lepsis shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a mystery to me. It’s not like Daenon to just leave, not when he has an army in front of him the size he had there today. He would never give up until every last soldier, be it man, woman or child were dead around him. The only life he cares about is his own.”
“Dad, we need to go to Rendaira before returning to Ramadine,” Jessica said. “You must see this land as I’ve seen it.”
“I agree,” John nodded. “Lepsis, will you come with us?”
“Yes. I’ve some unfinished business at Rendaira.”
Late afternoon found the four leaders seated in one of the many large dining tents, celebrating with the men the end to the brutal war. A feast of roasted meats from Kine, boiled vegetables from Verdure, and fresh fruits from Uberty was spread for all to enjoy. Many soldiers, with tears in their eyes, expressed gratitude and admiration to both John and Jessica for the incredible way they staved off the dreaded confrontation. Lepsis received many heartfelt thanks as well for his influence in the Demarian surrender.
“There’s someone I think you’ll be happy to see, Jessica,” John said as he motioned his head toward a group of Guardians who had just entered the crowded tent. “I’ll be right back.” He left the table and went to the group. A moment later, one of the soldiers left his companions and followed John back to the table.
Jessica caught her breath. “Brayon!”
Smiling, the tall man knelt before her.
“He saved my life, and Lyrista’s,” John said.
“I joined this war not only to defend my country, but to repay my debt to you, My Lady,” Brayon said. “I’m now a Guardian, in the service of your father.”
Jessica sat speechless, her eyes glistened with moisture. She reached out and placed her hand on the kneeling man’s shoulder. Finally, she controlled her emotions. “You’re my one and only Salupathic healing, and I still don’t know what I did that day. I only know I couldn’t let you die. I couldn’t have used that power on a better man. Thanks Brayon.”
When the meal was nearly finished, a flushed second bar officer ran into the tent. Spotting John, he yelled, “Sirs, come quickly. You must see this! Everyone hurry.”
Diners dropped their forks and rushed out through the wide tent opening. Additional soldiers streamed to the area from surrounding campsites. Horns blew and the excited bass and tenor voices of men filled the air. It took a minute for Jessica to locate the cause of all the fuss. A group of rugged looking Guardians, led by an even more rugged looking Anton, came riding up the center of camp.
“Varnack!” Jessica squealed and set off toward the incoming procession at a run. The large Trigal Hound let out a yelp, then bounded from Anton’s side and bowled Jessica over.
“Safe. You’re safe. Worried.” His words came into her mind. When he licked her face several times, she did not wipe it off, but kissed his furry forehead in return.
At the head of twenty-two Guardians, Anton grinned from ear to ear. “Jessi,” he boomed over the din, “yer a sight from heaven. Yer hair looks great, too.”
Jessica laughed. He’s never going to let me live that down.
In the midst of the Guardians, bound by several ropes sat a black uniformed man. A cloth sack covered his head. Three horses were led at the back of the group, their lifeless riders draped crosswise over the saddles. While the impressive group made their way through the throngs of curious soldiers, Jessica and Varnack walked back to where John, Lepsis, and Lyrista stood.
Jessica thought Anton looked the most disheveled that she had ever seen him. His uniform was bloodstained, filthy, and torn while his hair lay matted with several twigs sticking out, but the huge grin on his face was infectious. Coming to a stop in front of John, Anton reached down and shook the Protector’s hand.
“Brought ya a little present, John.” Anton’s deep voice roared out. “Bring ‘im up boys.” He waved to the two Guardians who flanked the hooded man. Once level with him, Anton reached over and pulled the hood from the man’s face.
Jessica gasped, while Lepsis chuckled.
“This here’s my nephew, Daenon,” Anton announced. “Daenon, yer lookin’ at the High Protector of Esparia.”
Daenon sat on his horse with sparks flying from his eyes. The gag in his mouth stopped him from making any intelligible sounds and Jessica was glad for it. She could just imagine what he would say if allowed.
“Well, we were wondering what happened to him,” John said lightly.
“Me and my boys here rode in from Rendaira way last night. We’d been all over the place searchin’ for Jessi. A couple of hours before sunrise, we found ourselves just west of Daenon’s camp, so I decided it was time to pay my nephew a little visit. It wasn’t too hard to spot his tent, it being the biggest and best. Most of the sentries were patrollin’ the front of the camp. I guess they didn’t figure on anyone sneakin’ up from behind. We had to handle some of the guards, and I will admit, Daenoboy put up quite a fight, but he was no match fer us. We got a gag on him and covered his face, then wrapped him up in some of his own sheets, like a dead body. Getting’ out of camp was a bit tricky. We had a little skirmish with a southern guard post, couple of the boys here are hurt, but we managed to steal away without upsettin’ the whole army.”
“We’ll have your men tended to right away,” John promised.
“So where do ya want him?” Anton asked.
“The sooner we lock him out of the way, the better,” Lyrista said. She stared at Daenon, her mouth set in a hard line.
Jessica looked around. Lyrista was not the only soldier looking at Daenon with cold hatred.
John must have also noticed the sudden change in atmosphere for he turned to Lyrista and said, “I’m tired of blood and death. I now understand why Graesion did not have Segal killed those many years ago. It must stop somewhere; let it stop here, with us.” He looked at Anton. “I think your father was right. Rash anger and vengeance would only plunge this country into darkness.”
John raised his voice so it rang out loud and clear. “I will not order Daenon’s death. He will be tried for his crimes in a court duly appointed by the laws of this country. His final fate will be determined at tha
t time.”
John turned to Lepsis. “You know this land better than anyone. Where do you suggest we put him?”
Without hesitating Lepsis answered, “Snow Peak Prison. He can await trial there.”
“That’s so anti-climactic,” Jessica commented. Daenon struggled in his saddle. “I’m sure everyone here would like to see him drawn and quartered.”
“Even the butchers of World War II had a fair trial, Jess. Daenon will die, rest assured of that, but not until his own people understand just what a monster he truly is. A trial will bring his evil into the open for all to see. Kill him now and the Demarian people will make him a martyr.”
Raising his voice again John announced, “The prisoner goes to Snow Peak Prison until such time as a war crimes court can be convened. We will find and try all the Demarian leaders who ravaged Palium and Snow Peak. Justice will be meted out.”
To Lyrista he asked, “Will you gather a volunteer group of a hundred men to escort this man to the prison? We’ll be adding other inmates as we root out those who’ve committed atrocities. No guard will serve duty longer than six months at Snow Peak. I won’t make it an outcast’s outpost.”
Jessica kept an eye on Anton throughout this entire exchange. Relief cross his face when John promised a trial would be required before deciding Daenon’s fate. She reached up and patted his hand. She realized how difficult it would have been for him to watch his nephew executed on the spot, especially since he was the one who brought him in for judgment.
“That sounds fair.” Jessica heard Lyrista say. “I would wish duty at Snow Peak on no man. I’m certain you’ll have your volunteers. They can leave in the morning. Until then, I suggest you send Daenon to the Red News Center. Let him rant and rave to the birds.”
*
While eating his portion of the celebration meal, Anton described the mayhem at Ramadine after Jeema returned without Jessica. He and his men were little help in describing what happened in the Colossus forest. By the time any of them had their horses under control and found their way back to the scene of the kidnapping, the Elitet were long gone. Realizing he was out of his league, Jeema returned to Ramadine.
The Protector of Esparia (The Annals of Esparia Book 1) Page 42
