Warlord Conquering (The Great Insurrection Book 3)

by David Beers

  The creature kept the same pace, his stride twice as long as Relm's.

  "Pro! Tell this lug to get up there. I don't want him walking behind you."

  Alistair still didn't understand all of this, but he acquiesced. "Up front."

  "Yes, master." The creature didn't glance at Relm, just stepped in front of Prometheus.

  Faitrin led them down backstreets. They could have taken a transport, but it would have been logged, and they had no idea how that was tracked. In the streets, they were protected to some degree since this planet didn’t want outright violence. Emptying a hotel and killing everyone? That was fine. Alistair wasn't worried about the clean-up back there. Whoever had paid off the necessary authorities could take care of it. Plus, he didn't think Ares was going to let him be locked up on a foreign planet. It wouldn't do much for the kid's legacy.

  They finally reached the new place. It looked a lot sketchier than the first, but Alistair didn't care. He had two things on his mind, and the first was understanding this strange man-like beast. None of the people they passed had given the creature a look, though Alistair did not doubt that those wanting to kill him knew where they were. You couldn't miss this odd creature, even if people around here had some idea of what he was.

  The creature was in a room by himself, while the rest bunked together. It was a tight fit, but Alistair felt they were safer that way.

  He was about to head to the beast's room when Servia called him. "You can't trust it, and you can't let it sleep in there alone. We need to rest, but someone has to stand watch while we rest. You understand that, right?"

  Alistair didn't turn around. "I don't trust it, but there isn't any other way to get to Thoreaux. If you think of another one, let me know. If not, I'll be getting information out of the creature."

  He walked out, shutting the door behind him. The hallways were small, and he stood directly in front of the beast's room—the unnamed creature who called him master.

  Alistair took his Whip off his belt and unfurled it. He turned the doorknob, half-expecting it to be locked. It moved easily, and he swung the door open.

  The creature sat in front of Alistair. His eyes were staring forward as if he'd been waiting for Alistair to show up and had nothing else on his mind.

  Alistair stepped into the room and quietly closed the door. He didn't retract the Whip, but he made no motion toward the creature either. "I need to know what you are. I need to know your past. Why you insist on calling me master. I need to understand what the gods were thinking when they made you, or I'm going to kill you before I leave this room. I know I need you, but I also know whoever sent you will send more. I will find someone else who will bring me to my friend."

  "I will tell you whatever you want to know."

  Alistair's eyes narrowed. "Start at the beginning."

  "You humans, you value age, correct?" the creature asked from the bed.

  Alistair shrugged. "I suppose you could say that. We celebrate it, however weird that is."

  "I do not know how old I am. No one in my life has ever told me or cared." The creature showed no sadness at the revelation. He seemed to truly be trying to explain. "You are a human. I am a servant."

  "I know that," Alistair interrupted. "What I mean is, what are you?"

  The beast shook his head. "That has no meaning for me. I am a servant. No more, no less."

  They were going back and forth, and Alistair wasn't getting it. It was as though they spoke different languages. "Okay, look, I'm not going to ask you any more questions. I want you to tell me what you remember."

  The beast acted as if Alistair hadn't derailed the entire conversation. He spoke as instructed. "There are many like me on this planet, though this isn't my homeworld or theirs. We have no mother or father like you or other animals. We are..."

  He looked confused again as if he were searching for the right words. Finally, it looked as if a light had fallen on his face. "Bred. We are bred. The one you killed. You asked if he was my brother. I have no family. No mother, no father." He closed his eyes. "My memory, I think it might be perfect, though I don't know. It would not be right for me to know how they made us, only the purpose for which we are made. I remember my birth. There were bright white lights everywhere. I could not speak. I only remember terror and humans around me."

  Alistair thought he was talking about being born. He didn't see how that was possible, but he kept his mouth shut. He'd given the creature instructions, and they were being followed.

  "I know about schools that humans go to. I went to a school too, though it was different, I think. There were many deaths in this school, but that was the point of it. To make us ruthless, to learn to follow orders, to think through how to accomplish the goals set by our masters. Always to serve the strongest."

  Alistair hauled his Whip in as he grew lost in the creature's story. He wasn't a man, not if he was to be believed.

  "I survived school, and many served me since I was strong. I was sold." He shrugged as if it was of no consequence. "I have been here since, serving at the feet of the strongest human I found. The one that purchased me, but I imagine beings like me cost a good amount, and to have that type of credit, you have to be strong." He shook his head. "I don't know; those things are beyond me."

  Alistair was quiet for a long time, thinking about what he'd been told. The story wasn't in-depth, though he thought a lot of stories might reside in the creature's brief tale. Someone had to know what he was called if beasts like him could be purchased.

  "Does your old master know that you would trade?" Alistair finally asked.

  "I don't know," the beast answered. "He doesn't speak to me like this."

  "Will you take me to him?" Alistair asked.

  The creature's face looked like he was speaking to someone very simple. "I will do anything you tell me."

  "Do you know who my friend is?"

  "I should not, but I have heard of newcomers. Those like me, we talk."

  Alistair's mind was calculating possibilities. "How many of you are there within your boss' organization?"

  Again, a look as if Alistair wasn’t very smart. "My old master. Twenty or more, I would guess. He is a very wealthy man."

  "They all follow strength, your kind?" Alistair asked.

  The giant nodded. "It is what we are bred to do. It is what we are made for. We serve strength."

  Alistair considered what he was being told, the entire outlandish story. Yet, the proof was in front of him. Once the creature had seen his fellow killer fall, he had offered no resistance but simply let Alistair implant his Whip through his shoulder. Now, he sat here with a head the size of a boulder, his body bigger than anything Alistair had ever seen.

  "Your hand," Alistair pointed at it. "What came out of it, and how did you help my friend?"

  The giant turned his hand over so he was looking at his palm. Again, that shrug in which he seemed to say he didn't understand. "The foot is to help walk. They are to help heal." He touched his right shoulder with his left hand. "They healed me. They healed her. As long as the person is not too far gone, they will heal."

  Alistair remembered how the creature had been about to kill Relm. On top of him, pressing down his blade with one arm, and then how he'd flicked Alistair into the wall.

  He nodded. His mind was made up. Naïve or not, it would be foolish to attack an underworld organization with the group they had now. "I want you to take me to the rest of those like you."

  "Well, that's not the most enlightening story," Faitrin said. "Luckily, Jeeves has been able to get us a bit more information."

  Alistair had returned to their room.

  This planet's star was coming up in the distance, the size of the sphere creating beautiful streaks of orange and yellow on the horizon. Alistair wished Luna was here to see it with him. There were so many things about this universe that neither of them had known. She was missing it, and he was forced to experience it alone.

  Someone would pay for all of
this.

  "What did Jeeves tell you?" Alistair asked. He'd finished relating the creature’s tale, realizing how little they knew.

  "They are bred," Faitrin responded. She was healed from all outward appearances. "They're bred in laboratories on planets in this galaxy by a single entity, the Orion Corporation. They're called gigantes, which would translate roughly to giants, for obvious reasons. They have no names, and they do go to an academy of sorts, but it's more like a death camp. As adolescents, they're shipped to a planet the company owns. There, it is literally and figuratively beaten into their heads that they will serve the strongest master they find."

  "Gods in the heavens," Relm whispered. "All of this is legal?"

  "Legality has different meanings in this galaxy," Faitrin said. "Those who buy them are told their giant killer servants will betray them if they come to see someone else as stronger, so their buyers constantly abuse them and demonstrate their strength in contrived feats. Given the price for one of these things, it's a reasonable investment to make. Right now, his buyer knows he's either dead or that he's switched sides. He also knows it's not a good thing, I would imagine."

  Alistair sat on one of the beds. "He's telling the truth? He's going to do whatever I say?"

  "It has been beaten into him since his earliest memories that he has to," Faitrin agreed. "The amount of deprogramming it would take to stop him is unfathomable. Make sure no one bests you in front of him because you'll have big trouble. What he did to me wasn't special to him, either. Jeeves couldn't figure out if they're partly mechanical or android or what, only that they all come equipped with those little healing bugs inside them. It hurts them to use it, and if they use too many at one time, they might die from it."

  That Jeeves character was very useful. "Can you keep Jeeves working on his history?"

  "Sure thing," Faitrin said. "He’s bored as Hades right now anyway."

  Alistair looked at his shoes, thinking about the giant. "He's got to have a name," Alistair said. "I can't go around calling him Thing or whatever."

  Obs barked at that. Alistair looked at him. "He's not obstinate. That's you, pup."

  Obs growled at the reference to a dog.

  "Servia is already taken," Alistair said, "though ‘to serve’ fits him better than you." Alistair looked down. There were more important things to think about right now, but in one very important way, there wasn't. Alistair knew his plans, though his council didn't, not yet, and he knew he wouldn't have servants or slaves. If he took this creature on, he would be free sooner or later.

  No, not a creature. The gigante.

  Naming the gigante was important for him to understand he wasn't a servant. That he had free will.

  "His name is Caesar." Alistair looked around the room. "Right now, we're going to get the rest of Caesar's buddies. If they follow strength, we're about to have twenty or so more giants on our team."

  All their eyes widened. None had considered that.

  "With twenty of those badasses, getting Thoreaux isn't going to be much of a problem."

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Any shortcomings in you are surely my fault.”

  —Adrian de Livius, father of Ares

  Ares stood outside a room that housed horror. Even now, he listened to the screams coming from it and grew sick at the sounds. He held his Whip in his right hand, gripping it so tightly his knuckles were white.

  Hel was inside the room, and she was committing unspeakable acts. Ares had sworn his life to protect the Commonwealth. His whole existence had been aimed at ensuring the Commonwealth's continued rule because it preserved all that was good.

  Ares was now outside a room that held the worst parts of humanity. Regardless of how Ares felt about Subversives or their motives, doing what Hel was doing now would never occur to him. You eliminated threats; you didn't revel in the opposition's pain. You didn’t torture them for hours on end.

  If evil existed, it was in the room before him. He’d hidden his feelings from Veena when she came to him, but that was to protect himself. Hel’s actions disgusted him.

  As Ares held his Whip, wanting to go in there and kill the creature posing as a woman, an existential crisis started in his mind. Perhaps he was being naïve or even stupid, but he couldn't help the thoughts coming to him.

  The Commonwealth was the best of mankind.

  Yet it had unleashed this assassin, which was the worst of mankind. It had knowingly let loose something so evil that it had kept her locked up, away from society. He couldn’t understand that. Was the Commonwealth good, or was it something else? A creation that would knowingly let out an assassin who enjoyed torturing her enemies.

  A hellish shriek erupted from the room.

  He knew now wasn't the time, but he had to understand something first.

  Where did his allegiance lie? Was it to the Commonwealth or to his honor? He'd once thought they were one and the same, but now he didn't know.

  It had been one of his final lessons from his father.

  Romulus was eighteen, and of course, he'd been accepted to the Academy. His enrollment was days away, and servants were in a bustle at the manor, preparing for his departure.

  Romulus was excited but nervous, too. His whole life, he'd been the best, and his family expected nothing less. To go to the Academy and not finish as Rex would be a blow he wouldn’t recover from. He was still years away from being crowned, but days before he entered the Academy, the prospect was heavy in his mind.

  Adrian had been distant to the young man since his acceptance, even more so than usual. Romulus hadn't seen his father in over a week. He'd asked his mother if his father was upset, and she’d told him Adrian was busy with work.

  His father remained away until the day when Adrian was supposed to depart. Earth's Academy was held on the other side of the world in the middle of the ocean. An entire continent had been built for training Earth's best, one that resisted hurricanes for the most part, though the inhabitants would face tremendous weather from time to time.

  The flight would take twenty-four hours, and Adrian was focused on making sure Romulus had what was needed. Very little was permitted to come from outside, but Adrian had meticulously picked out the things they did allow.

  Romulus was looking at the blade his father had chosen when the servant entered his room. "Sir, your father requests your presence."

  Romulus showed no emotion, though he was shocked. He hadn't expected his father to speak to him, but he’d sent a servant to ask for him. "Did he say when?"

  "Now, good sir."

  Romulus nodded with his back to the servant. "Thank you."

  "My pleasure, sir."

  Romulus listened as the servant walked out of the room. He was nervous and yet glad his father was asking to see him. He loved his father, even if it was a distant love that didn't allow for closeness.

  He placed the blade on his bed. There was still some packing to do, but he would go to his father first.

  Adrian was at his desk when Romulus arrived. A holoworkspace hovered over the desk, and his father was looking at some sort of chart. Romulus stopped at the door, knowing Adrian would hear him.

  He glanced up from the chart and nodded solemnly, then tapped something on the desk and shut the holo down.

  Romulus was nervous, but Adrian might have been more so. He hadn't spoken to his son in over a week because he wasn't quite sure what to say. Adrian's entire tenure as a father had been spent knowing the next move for his son. He had followed his own father's guidance, modifying it for the new world and a child who would achieve more than he.

  For the first time as a father, Adrian found himself unsure of what to do. His son had tested into the Academy with amazing scores. Everyone involved expected great things of him, and there was talk about whether he would be Rex before the session had even started.

  His son had succeeded. "Sit down." He gestured at one of the seats in front of the desk. Romulus walked across the room and dropped into it.


  Adrian leaned back in his chair and turned to the right so he looked out the window. He was a suspicious man, so he'd turned on a stealth device when he'd turned off the holo. The room couldn't be monitored by anyone, which he'd never tell his son. He had instructed him well enough in his childhood that he could figure that out on his own.

  Romulus eventually spoke into the room's silence. "The servant said you wanted to see me."

  Adrian nodded. "I do." He didn't look over as he spoke. "You're leaving shortly, correct?"

  "Yes. The shuttle should be here in two hours."

  Adrian closed his eyes and sighed. "I hope I did a decent job with you, Romulus. I did my best, and any shortcomings in you are surely my fault. All in all, I think we have given you the best chance to succeed in this world."

  That was it. He had figured out what he wanted to tell his son and how to tell him. He turned the chair so he faced Romulus and opened his eyes. "You won't understand this right now, and that's fine. There hasn't been an opportunity to explain what I'm trying to talk about to you, not a real-life one, so I'm stuck with talking, which you know isn't my preferred method of conveying information."

  He folded his hands in his lap.

  "The world is going to try to change you, Romulus. It's the way of things. Some men will not have honor. Some of those men hold the highest stations on this planet. Since your earliest days, I have drilled into your head that you're to be the best no matter what, and perhaps I hit that too hard. It is more important to be a good man than to be the best man. Does that make sense?"

  His son's face showed nothing of what he was thinking besides a slight narrowing of his eyes. "Not really, sir."

  Adrian nodded and closed his eyes again. This was an important lesson, but he understood he might not be able to teach it. In his life, he had done the opposite of what he now told his son. He had tried to be the best instead of being good, and he'd done it for Romulus so his son would have the chance he had now.