by T B Phillips
“Robert is coming?” Sarai’s voice betrayed concern for the safety of her love. She had hoped that he was already aboard the ships.
They were interrupted by a loud screech as an eagle rushed by in the dense fog. His appearance was quickly answered by screams from the Falconers as he connected and ripped at flesh. Marita focused her senses above and found six birds diving to help their masters. She removed the air from beneath their wings and they plummeted like sacks of flour tossed from a window. As they landed, sounds like wet towels slapping on stone made everyone grimace.
The twisted branches around imprisoned arms withered and shrank, becoming brittle. Marita was the first to rip free of the wall, shouting for the others to follow. As each fell to the ground beside her, she sent three lassos of air onto rooftops, grabbing ahold of the other three Falconers and pulling them stunned from their roosts. The sounds of their landings were far more gruesome than their birds and closely resembled breaking branches.
The soldiers and former prisoners grabbed their weapons from where they lay and charged the great cats. Three managed to escape into the fog, but most of the squad trapped the others, butchering them with ferocious strikes until wisps of air formed a net that fell down upon the fighters. Unable to escape, the soldiers quickly became prey for the great cats who had returned for an easy kill. Leaping atop the pile, the beasts went to work clawing and biting at the bound men.
Marita watched Amash and Alec attack the beasts, fighting off one and killing two. Unfortunately, Captain Titus seemed to have been recaptured in the net with the others, and blood poured onto the sidewalk as he and his men wailed. Looking around, she noticed that Captain Dominique was nowhere to be seen. The girl screamed into the night, “Lift the fog, Robert!” She shouted again, “Quickly!”
The fog dissipated rapidly, and she spotted the cowardly slaver running the opposite way from the docks. She cast a net of her own with blinding speed, caught his feet, and toppled him to the ground with force. Amash and Alec raced away to retrieve him, while Marita stared down the remaining Falconers. The three on the ground had broken free of Arne’s attack and faced her directly, awe in their eyes and impressed by her power. She smiled at them and gave a thumbs up.
Their first attack came swift and without warning. Wisps of air shot out around her, not as shackles but finer. The threads spun fast, closely resembling a cocoon as they flew. She sidestepped their attack with foresight, trails of events yet to come blurring toward where she had stood. Clever, she thought.
“You made a mistake tonight.” She said with a smile, dancing and spinning around like she was at a fair. “You see, I’ve never been able to work magic inside a living person.” Addressing the woman, she added, “But now I know that you’re already dead.” She first attacked the two men, reaching into their lungs and stealing their breath. While they drowned on dry land, Marita bound Ashima Nakala.
Robert Esterling stepped onto the street, dumbfounded by what Marita had accomplished in mere seconds. She’s so powerful, he marveled. He looked up and down the street, straining his eyes for a glimpse of the humanoid Jaguars. Arne screeched above and immediately shared his sight, peering into bushes outside of a money changing house. He conjured a wind so powerful that the bushes lay flat and revealed five half-naked monsters sitting cross-legged and in a trance.
Braen shouted through clenched teeth, obviously struggling to hold the water. “They’re conjuring another quake, Robert!”
The king nodded and threw a web of air around them, hoping to interrupt. But they kept swaying. Movement to his left caught his eye and he responded, “Not a quake, Braen!” He pointed to the five dead Falconers. “Look!” As the Jaguars swayed to their own music, the birdlike men raised up from the ground onto their feet. The three who had fallen snapped their broken legs into place, then walked toward the young girl standing over the bound woman. “Marita! Watch out!”
She briefly flashed the king a smile and thumbs up before wheeling around and sending a powerful lash. All five creatures again fell to the ground and she ripped the air from their lungs. Robert watched as it flowed out of their noses and mouths and as she used it to bind their hands behind their backs. And then the ground rumbled.
“There must be more!” Braen shouted.
Arne screeched and circled a high wall beside a tailor shop. “There!” Robert replied. Before anyone could respond, the tremor grew to a roaring quake that fell every building in the city square. His first thought was of Sarai, and he threw a shield of air around her and Titus’s men. They were no longer bound, but he could tell that many had died, and most were bleeding. The stone of the building rained down and fell in piles around them.
“Marita, take Sarai and run!” Robert bellowed, “Get her to the ships!” She grabbed the Queen’s hand, dragging her down the street and away from the specters. Amash and Alec returned with their quarry and he ordered them to follow and protect his wife.
Pausing, Marita yelled for them to also carry the bound female Falconer. “She’s important! Grab her and bring her along!” Confused, but obliging, Horslei scooped her into his arms and ran to the ships,
Robert watched the sky for Arne, who responded with another screech. “There!” Once again, a blast of air revealed five more Jaguars seated and swaying to their eerie music.
“Do something about them, Esterling!” Braston screamed into the night.
“I can’t. I can’t take on all fifteen!” As soon as he spoke, the street fell out from under Braen. Robert watched in horror as the bearded captain fell into the cistern, followed by Titus and his injured soldiers.
The stone at the floor of the cistern met his body with a crushing thud. All at once every part of his body ached and Braston lay stunned, unable to breathe. You’re okay, he told himself, find out if anything’s broken. He flexed his hands and feet, then rolled over and tried to stand. To his left Titus and his soldiers lay bloodied and still on the stone. The captain’s face had been sliced to shreds and a giant nail from a jaguar’s claw protruded from his left eye.
He whispered a prayer to the gods for the fallen men and regained his footing, thankful that he hadn’t met their same fate. The entire street above was gone, replaced with the nighttime sky. The steep walls were smoothed from decades of flowing water, preventing him from climbing out. He was trapped.
Robert’s face appeared overhead. “Are you alive, Braston?”
“Barely so, but yes, Esterling.” He flexed his hand, sore from the fall. “Get out! Go save yourself before they awaken those Falconers again.”
`“I need to get you out first!”
“Don’t be a hero on my account. Just promise that you’ll acquit my friends and give Dominique his due.”
The boy looked up, suddenly showing fear on his face. “It’s too late, Braen. They’re already up and the Jaguars are walking toward me.” The fearful look grew into horror and he added, “Everything is coming alive now! The trees are even walking toward me, Braston! I’m trapped.”
“Hang in there! I’m trying to get out!”
“Cinder’s Crack, you won’t believe this.” His voice broke as he yelled down to Braen.
“What now?”
“Every stray animal in the city is moving toward me. Hurry, I don’t think I can get away.”
“Step back from the edge and be ready to run as soon as I release the water!”
“But you’ll kill yourself in the process!”
“If I do, I do.” After a pause he added, “If I do, then tell Eusari that I love her and that I’m sorry.”
“I have a better idea, Braston.” As soon as he spoke Robert jumped into the cistern, rolling as he landed and running to his side. A bubble of air formed around them as he said, “Let go of the water and let’s get out of here.”
The deluge of water rushed into the cistern, washing the men, living and dead, out to sea.
“Wait!” Marita called to the general. “Robert just told me that we need to go without him. That he and Braen will catch up.”
A bandaged Krill ambled over. “Where are they, dearie?”
“They’re floating down the sewer to open water. Robert’s showing me what he sees through Arne and will help me find them.”
“No!” Sarai screamed, “Send soldiers back for him!”
Krill ignored the Queen’s orders. “All due respect bein’ givin’, but aside from Marita, we don’t know or trust any of you.” He tottered on his wooden leg toward the girl. “Do you swear on me lost eye that you know they be safe?” She nodded, then smiled and gave a thumbs up. “Good enough for this scallywag. Let’s shove off!”
It took an hour for them to find the duo, bobbing in the ocean in their air bubble raft. Once they hauled them in, Sarai ran to her husband.
“They’re aboard, Mr. Krill!” Max’s voice boomed and Robert stood to survey the situation.
Turning to Braston he ordered, “Get us out of here!”
Part III
Arising Powers
Life of misery,
Death not binding,
– The Oracle of Astian, 754th year of order
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Skander tightly clenched his jaw, rising anger seething within. Hester had fled. She had left him and traveled south toward Braen. He felt searing humiliation and could already hear the world laughing at the pathetic king in Fjorik. Rumors would surely spread; mostly of his inability to control his queen or keep her in his bed. The only thought that soothed much of his fury was the sound her elixir had made as it had shattered against the bedchamber wall. The bitch will welp my pup! Of that he was sure.
He had brought his fleet north to make brief preparations for their next attack. Unlike Diaph, Middleton would fight back, and he planned to hone his new weapons before the battle. Pushing thoughts about Hester aside, he focused on his looming challenges. The foremost regarded the Imperial fleet. Most of Middleton’s warships were on the Southern Ocean participating in the Eskera blockade. He could easily handle any resistance to his armada, especially with control over his powers growing.
His second concern was the sheer size of the bay. Middleton sprawled across many finger-like inlets reaching deep into the land. Although access to water suited his powers, several batteries would stand ready to pick off his ships if he ventured too deep. That job would depend on foot soldiers as his army moves door to door, fanning out and looting all they could carry. Each team would be accompanied by members of his newest elite squad, crushing anything that stood in their path.
That had been the most important reason for returning to Fjorik. He wanted to outfit his newest weapons in such a way as to invoke terror within his enemies. Skander had designed a special uniform and adorned them in pure white furs with hoods crafted out of the head of the northern sabre cat. He stood before an eerie assemblage of nearly one hundred men, women, and children. The ages of his children mattered not, and even the elderly stood in full dress before their father and lord. Each eagerly awaited his words.
Skander’s army formed rows around the Sabre Cats, watching with trepidation. They stood at parade rest in columns facing the new weapons, and also awaiting his address. He briefly glanced at the meager force of berserkers that had once been his elite fighters. They were useless now, except for nostalgia of an earlier time. So much has changed, but so much more is yet to come. Unable to contain his excitement, he let out a chuckle as he stepped forward.
“My children!” He threw up his arms as he spoke, indicating the Saber Cats, “Terrible things were done to you, despicable acts that can never be erased or forgiven.” He watched their eyes as he spoke, large as they soaked every word and eagerly seeking his approval and love. “You were given away by your families or taken by force to that place. Remember always, that horrible laboratory from which I rescued each of you personally.” He smiled benevolently when he said, “I, alone, love you enough to gift you both a family and a purpose.”
Wails of an infant abruptly erupted in his mind, threatening to interrupt his speech. They cascaded louder but he concentrated hard, trying to ignore them as he spoke. Then his father’s voice also boomed in his head, temporarily drowning out the cries. How can you be their family when you’ve destroyed your own, Skander? Do you even know how to love? He pressed his hand to his temple, slightly easing the pain, and continued his address.
“You were born as gods instead of people and thus your families rejected you. They gave you to the Falconers to have and lord over. They gave you away without concern of your well-being. They kept you alive to dream but never to walk the earth. But I freed you so that we can create a new world, together, as gods!” He pointed to the sky.
Storm clouds brewed, but no rain fell from the black swirling mass above. Lightning licked the sky in the glowing form of a sabre cat and the crowd recoiled in fear. “Don’t be afraid, my children, for I would never harm you without cause.” He pointed to a familiar figure amongst them. “Brion, step forward so that the others may know you.” The man with a child’s mind walked toward Skander, trembling with fear. “Tell them what you did to me when you awoke.”
With chattering teeth, the man-child answered, “I used air to throw you across the room, Father.”
“Henceforth, my children, no one will strike me or my soldiers without facing my wrath. You are gods but lesser than I. You rule over air, whereby your father rules over life giving water.” He pointed at Brion, “Witness the penalty for disobedience!” A single bolt of lightning cracked down from the heavens, striking him in the chest. The man fell limp, heart having immediately ceased beating.
You enjoyed that, didn’t you? That poor boy did nothing but act out instinctively. His father’s voice again boomed loudly in his mind, this time forcing his eyes closed.
Despite the pain, he continued, “The city to which we sail contains a prison very much like the one that enslaved you. When we arrive, do not be afraid of the people who will fight to keep your brothers and sisters from joining us in freedom.” He smiled against the wails and the booming insults in his head, “Their penalty for defying the gods will be death, and we shall execute them all.”
The soldiers popped to attention and sent out thunderous applause as they rhythmically pounded swords against shields. Cheers rang out as they praised their king, calling him the true northern god. Skander waved back, smiled, and basked in the love that he had always craved but never received.
All I ever wanted was for you to recognize my greatness, father, but you always loved Braen more. His smile abruptly dropped into a scowl when Krist Braston answered, And I always will for as long as he lives.
The king whirled on his heel and left the cheering crowd behind. He shouted a command that brought his first mate running to his side, “Artur!”
“Yes, My Liege?”
“Ready the boats for the voyage but set one aside for the berserkers.” A sneer curled his lips, showing yellow teeth, “I have a special mission for them, one that will bring in some extra coin.”
“Where are you sending them, sire?”
“Farther south than Fjorik has dared to sail.”
Mattie walked with the master of the house, not beside him, but a step behind as suited to her position as steward of the manor. She nodded along as he listed off his requirements for the dinner party. The banquet would be huge, she imagined, even larger than the extravagant feasts ho
sted by Artema Horn.
“And over there is where I expect to find the peacocks,” he said.
Yes, she thought, more extravagant, indeed. “Have there been any more confirmations? I want to ensure that we don’t run out of food.”
“You had best not,” he cautioned, “but we will stress the pantry for sure. Here,” He pulled a wad of letters from his pocket and shoved them toward her, “I believe that brings the count up to one hundred and fifty-two lords.”
“That’s a lot of lords,” she remarked, “does the title even have meaning down here?”
“Of course it does!” A sly smile crossed his face, “Although, only a handful of them really matter.”
“I’m beginning to understand that.” Mattie nodded her head thoughtfully as she flipped through the letters, reading the names and mulling over the various titles.
“Take this Viscount, for instance.” Charro reached out a dark slender finger and pointed out a name at the top of one. “Scalia purchased his title a mere fifteen years ago.” He frowned, “In fact, I recall that he purchased it from our dear friend, Nevra, when he moved his operations to The Cove.”
“So Nevra was a Viscount?” Mattie hated even speaking the name aloud, but she was honestly interested in the workings of wealth on the continent.
“At one time he was, in title, yes.”
“So titles are purchased?”
“Along with the land and holdings.”
She pondered aloud, “So, if he sold his title, then he isn’t a lord at all?”
“Oh yes, he is very much a lord. In fact, his holdings rival only my own in Cargia.”
“But, you said that he sold the title to Viscount Scalia.”
“I see that you are confused. But that is expected since you hail from Andalon where titles are acquired through birthright and have nothing to do with holdings.” He cleared his throat and continued, “Through shrewd purchases, Nevra rose to the level of Duke, like me. He sold only the portion of his holding that included the estate and manor house.”
