The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix

by Ava D. Dohn

* * *

  A half-mile from the waiting assemblage, the advancing entourage dismounted, all except for Lowenah, who refused to lower her dignity in front of that rabble. Enclosed wagons filled with barter goods and prisoners divided Lowenah’s and Mihai’s parties, the horses laboriously advancing the giant wheeled contrivances through the powdery sand. Several grenadiers remained behind with the mounts, prepared to bring them forward at a moment’s notice if required. The remainder of the soldiers, many of them shrouded in long, gray cloaks, accompanied the others on foot. This secretiveness troubled Mihai, but right now she had other more pressing matters to contend with.

  To the right and slightly arrears of the front wagon walked PalaHar and Tizrela, Lowenah’s standard bearers, holding her royal banners high, followed closely by Darla in all her naked finery, leading Lowenah’s horse by its reins. Ardon walked to her right, staying a little behind, close enough to step in to save the day, if need be. Following along in back of them there were another dozen or so of Lowenah’s court officials, all dressed in royal finery of Lowenah’s choosing. Lowenah had no soldiers or armed guards accompanying her...didn’t want them…didn’t need them.

  On the left, Mihai, with Trisha by her side, strode out in front, just ahead of the lead wagon. To Trisha’s left, and just behind, walked Planetee, the gentle giant, Eutychus, close to her. Marching to Mihai’s left, Paul, Jonathan and Jebbson held their stations. The remainder of Mihai’s party followed them.

  In the best of times, the air quality on EremiaPikros was poor. Photosynthesis was of marginal quantity, the broad expanses of green lichens near the planet’s poles producing most of the atmosphere’s oxygen, its few seas so salty that life there existed at a minimum. This, added to the planet’s very low barometric pressure, equal to EdenEsonbar’s at about eight thousand feet elevation, made breathing difficult. Along with this were the almost constant daytime winds that whipped up the red talc-like dust, clinging to the skin while irritating lungs, eyes, and ears.

  Then there was the high summer sun beating down mercilessly upon friend and foe, the difference being that Mihai’s people were struggling across burning sands that slipped away beneath a heavy footfall, making the trek slow and cumbersome at best. Yet on this day, the thin air, choking dust and burning sand were the least of Mihai’s worries. There were far more troubling things pressing her mind.

  Chrusion’s demand that Lowenah remain out of the official proceedings placed upon Mihai all responsibilities for executing a successful exchange and release of the hostages. This was unprecedented. Although Mihai was used to officiating at past exchanges, Lowenah always stood at the ready to step in should things turn unpleasant. Now Mother was to remain only an observer to whatever mischief the enemy might attempt, and it would be that way. Mother had accepted Chrusion’s terms, staying out of things unless he requested it, and Mother would stay true to her word.

  That, in and of itself, was bad enough, but now Mihai also faced this most treacherous opponent with an untested, ignorant, lost child from nowhere to act as herald during these negotiations, she, Mihai, standing silent, waiting for only private consultation with her. Oh, how she missed her close companion and confidant, Gabrielle! It was that woman who acted as her herald during the past two millennia, standing as archon during the ages before then. Now there was only this urchin from forgotten times and places to risk the freedom of her people. Why had Mother made such a foolish decision to have this miserable creature here in the first place?

  With every labored step, the company drew closer to the opposing enemy line. Faces gradually became recognizable, while other details began to stand out in a person’s vision. With each forward step, Mihai’s anxiety increased, her heart beating faster while a nervous ache grew in her chest. ‘Kala-boom! Kala-boom! Kala-boom!’ The sound of coursing blood crashed upon Mihai’s ears, ‘Kala-boom! Kala-boom! Kala-boom!’...the pulsing rush pummeling the woman’s head with aggravating pain.

  Forcing her attention away from inner trepidations, Mihai focused on the moment. In only minutes, she would be standing before the lord of the League of Brothers, her greatest protagonist and adversary. This was no time to allow one’s thoughts to wander. Asotos, also known by the name ‘Chrusion’, was addressed only as ‘Adelphos’ - meaning ‘brother’ - by members of the Children’s Empire when in his company. He was a very dangerous foe, one who would leave nothing to chance. Mihai must study her surroundings carefully, discounting nothing. But first she must show that she is commander in charge.

  Motioning with her hand, Mihai shifted toward the right, lining up on Chrusion and his chief lieutenants, the entire company gradually drifting in the same direction. This move pushed Lowenah’s entourage further to the right, which would eventually place the wagon train between them and Chrusion’s line of sight, Lowenah silently smiling in satisfaction.

  As this move was being executed, Mihai closely studied her opponent. What she observed only increased her anxiety. Chrusion had delivered a rather large armada of thinly disguised fighting ships, painted and fitted to appear as little more than lightly armed transports. While it was true that few dared deep space travel with unarmed ships in this day and age, other say than the odd collier out of Desiah, a fast packet sloop, or a small Wildcatter merchantman, it was accepted protocol for ships of war to be orbiting at some distant location, or to be landed several leagues away on the planet’s surface with engines cold, when attending diplomatic events such as the Prisoner Exchange.

  Mihai grew increasingly nervous as her eyes scanned the disproportionate opposing number of gaily-attired military officials and honor guard clad in burnished armor. It was not their attire that concerned Mihai as much as the numbers. It was a common practice to for the honor guard to be little more than dandy-dressed soldiers. Both sides practiced it. It was part of their ‘insurance policy’ that promised matters would remain civil and protocols followed. The number of soldiers Chrusion had this day were troublingly large, possibly four score, and the two nearby transports might hide dozens more in reserve.

  A feeling of silent regret swept Mihai’s heart - regret for disregarding the council of several lieutenants to bring a larger number of soldiers with her. The woman had not been able to wrap her mind around the possibility that this upcoming exchange might be anything more than just that, an exchange of prisoners. She could only chastise herself now when considering the many warning signs presented earlier. She also knew well that the time appointed for this exchange was the anniversary of her attack outside the city walls so long ago - a fact she had vehemently disregarded, but that now was returning to her with a haunting.

  Oh how her yearning grew for the one companion she could trust at all times! Gabrielle did not walk beside her this day, and there was no offering of inner peace that so often came to her when the two women were separated. Alone she was with an untested, belligerent, self-aggrandizing, herald, while she, the experienced negotiator of several prisoner exchanges, was expected to stand quietly by as this… this… naive fool bumbled them all into catastrophe. Just one mistake or misstep and all hope might be lost… and… and her little sister a hapless victim of a needless fiasco.

  Mihai’s attention was turned to her current dilemma. The fated moment drew nearer, little the time remaining for the execution of a successful solution to rid them of this threat - this Trisha creature bringing to ruin any hope to save the ones she loved. Why, oh why, did Mother pick this urchin of lost days to become the new field marshal?! Mother did like the wine and strong drink and at times allowed herself to fall under their hypnotic wiles. Could she have been celebrating a little before appointing it to that most important position, at such a critical time and moment?

  Mihai’s head ached with growing apprehension as doubt and uncertainty flooded her mind. Everyone… all those around her were blind to the intentions of this beast walking beside her. Who could she trust? With her own wits was this conte
st to be won. She must change the battle plan, must move swiftly to remove the threat that would bring ruination to them all. In her determined concentration to find a solution to the dilemma, she ignored the whispering snigger sounding in the back of her head.

  Glancing around, Mihai caught sight of Planetee, breathing a quiet sigh of relief to see her loyal companion so close. She could trust Planetee, did trust her. This very morning, after the confrontation with that creature, she had confided her concerns to Planetee, the woman promising confederate support to Mihai should the need arise. Planetee, positioning herself at little more than an arm’s length behind that arrogant thing, helped ease Mihai’s troubled mind.

  Anna walked close beside and slightly behind on Mihai’s left. Anna could always be depended on to give her unwavering support to her new king. Anna had always been close to Mihai, especially since the Rebellion when she risked her own life to sound the alarm at seeing Asotos’ attack on her little sister. On so many lonely nights, she comforted Mihai’s soul with love’s warm embrace, singing sweet, enchanting songs far into the chill of morning. Mihai nearly swooned, remembering last eves’ witching hours spent in the arms of this most loving sister.

  Mihai gave little heed to the others walking near other than Eutychus and that Garlock fellow. Eutychus followed Planetee, a little to her side. He was a gentle giant, his helpful assistance greatly appreciated. He and Planetee had been nearly inseparable over the last several days, the man doting on her, seeing to even her smallest desires. Mihai smiled to think she had such a stalwart ally with her this day.

  Mihai glanced Jebbson’s way. The man walked - or better described – ‘swaggered’ some eight paces to her left, appearing more like a dandy-dressed, Wildcatter frigate captain than a well-groomed officer of the court. Jebbson was an anomaly, to say the least. Brilliant scientist, musician, a man able to wax poetic with the deepest heartfelt emotion, passionately caring one moment while becoming ruthlessly remorseless the next, this Garlock was predictably unpredictable.

  Jebbson loyal? Yes, in the absolute - but a loyalty to the cause that was measured upon his scales of fealty. When she had once asked him about his view of the Children’s current policy when dealing with the enemy, Jebbson’s answer had been both cryptic and chilling. ‘I balance all, I balance one. The chips fall where they may when I am done.’

  Mihai frowned. Where was this man’s loyalty? He had struck up a warm relationship with Planetee over the past few days, casual but warm, none the less. He had also been seen in the field marshal’s company on several occasions.

  The man’s outward confidence betrayed hidden knowledge, but of what? Had Planetee confided in him the events of this preceding morn? Was he now taken in as their ally? Or, Mihai shuddered, had this man planned some secret mischief of his own? She would not put it past him, but dared not ponder such a possibility at the moment. But that did bother her a bit.

  Not many days ago when Mihai was reviewing the manifest requesting certain heavy ordnance that Jebbson wanted to be taken on this sojourn, this man had rather tersely replied to her questions, ‘Peaceful negotiation is successful only amongst friends and allies. Enemies only use it to advance their position of power. Power is all your brother understands and respects. You fear his reprisal by showing strength and might. I fear it because you show your weakness.’

  It had been a stinging rebuff for Mihai, especially after having gotten used to all the ongoing adoration and respect she was receiving since taking the crown, but that was Jebbson’s way, the way he was raised in the land that he grew up in. ‘All men and gods are created equal...’ He had been heard to say on more than one occasion. ‘a God-given right!’

  Still, Garlock was loyal to the Children’s Empire and to its cause, and he respected Mihai to a fault. Besides, it was Mother who gave Mihai the crown. Jebbson would do nothing offensive against Mother. Smiling, Mihai sighed. Jebbson was safe. Whatever he was up to would bring no harm to Mother and her purpose. Mihai was Mother’s king – weapon - to bring success this day. Jebbson was not a person of concern.

  At that instant, Trisha stepped into a sand hole, stumbling, she grasping Mihai’s arm to prevent a fall. Mihai cursed under her breath as she shook herself free of Trisha’s hold. “Pity you didn’t find the bottom of the pit.” Mihai hissed. “Urchins of despair and foolish chatterers have no place at such a grand council! Go away while time still shines its favor on you...”

  Regaining her balance, Trisha looked up into Mihai’s face, her orbs hiding any emotion. “My Lord...” She replied as she again took up station beside her king.

  Lowenah sadly shook her head as she listened to her child’s caustic rebuff of Trisha. “Mere oppression alone can make the wise sage act like a crazy one. Oh my. Oh my...” Lowenah muttered under her breath.

  Saddened she was, but not surprised. Indeed! Mihai’s actions this day were expected by Lowenah, actually anticipated. She was depending on them. After all, a major part of Lowenah’s little surprise for her rebellious son hinged on the crazy actions of her daughter-child. Not that she desired to see her child suffer such torment, but since it was going to happen anyway, why not take advantage of it, especially if it might save a few lives while bringing humiliation to those deserving it?

  She turned her gaze to Darla, another part of her little surprise prepared for her rebellious child this day. Oh, how beautiful the woman looked, all dressed up in the alluring raiment of a long-forgotten Canaanite temple dancer! Schiel’ahh... yes...that was the dancer’s name. Lowenah nodded, closing her eyes. Schiel’ahh, heaven’s gift, was the name bestowed upon this girl by an appreciative father who had cried out in his prayers to this strange Hebrew God to grant him a gift of but one child in his old age, for no children did he have.

  To the elderly man, Lowenah listened, finding more faith in him than in any of those living at that time professing her name. A girl, divinely beautiful, was born to him - a girl who looked very much like the woman leading Lowenah’s horse this day. Whether it had been by subconscious design or by accident, Lowenah was not sure, but truth be said, Darla, with her deeply tanned skin, and Schiel’ahh could have been mistaken for twins of sorts.

  Lowenah frowned, sad. Her rebellious son soon discovered the child and stole the maiden away from her father and mother to train the girl up in all the ways of the Canaanite religious order, forcing her to prostitute her flesh for the well-being of the temple priests, he, all the while, attempting a coup against nature’s laws so as to bring the girl’s flesh into his world for his sole prurient pleasure. As he searched for success, Asotos would take possession of the men paying to have intercourse with Schiel’ahh so that he might in some way feel the love he so passionately desired.

  At length, in the course of time, Lowenah tired of Asotos’ evil, delivering a sword of retribution against the people of that city, burning it with fire while snuffing out the lives of its inhabitants including Schiel’ahh, thus freeing the girl from the constant rape and torture she so long endured. Asotos swore an oath of eternal vengeance against the people who carried out the deed, his inflamed hatred for them not subsiding down to that very hour. That was so many millennia ago now.

  Would her son remember? Yes... Lowenah sadly sighed. Yes, he would, he never forgetting any slight or insult, real or imagined, and the girl’s destruction was personal to him, but not only for that reason alone.

  Darla was dressed the part of Schiel’ahh, attired as the girl so often was when dancing in the temple, right down to her hair styling, painted lips, eyes and face, and even the tattoo of a pentagram and runes upon her forehead, which read, when translated into the language of the Canaanites, ‘Prince of Light’. Still that was not all.

  Darla’s breasts were round, firm and full. When unbridled, they roamed free, rebelling against the body, seeking their own careless direction of desired escape. Few were the daughters of Lowenah who had the grace to rein in
such wild mares prancing about, and Darla was never known for any such harmonic prowess. Even should the man find disgust in the beauty of a woman, his heart would be forced to notice the hypnotic song that Darla’s breasts played as she struggled to keep her balance in this tricksy sand. Then, just in case this was not enough distraction, Lowenah pressed into service the very winds to force a coup against her rebellious son.

  Darla was fond of piercing her flesh, from toe to forehead, for the pleasure of appearance or for the delight of the sensual - either or both. So it was that intricate, bejeweled ornaments were often found dangling from the woman’s nipples. The girl could not see the effect such baubles had on her brothers, so few men daring the girl’s sickness to reveal their lust for her. But Mother noticed - noticed how the animal would cry out for satisfaction while the human pulled its glance away, forcing its growing passion down. It was the animal, the untamed wild beast lurking in every man’s heart that Mother was in search of this day, and she possessed the weapon able to capture it.

  Today Lowenah had endowed her child with a wondrous present of dozens of tinkling bells hanging upon one long, golden chain fastened to the nipples of her little Rachel’s bouncing spheres, their music already having created so much commotion at this morning’s breakfast. Their ever sensual refrains, heard by the heart but not the ear, could drive any man to distraction. But should the melodious rhapsody be tuned specifically to some certain man’s heart? Ah…then there would be no hope for him to hold his concentration against it.

  Lowenah glanced around and then looked back at Darla, smiling sadly. “So many crows, so many crows...” She mumbled to herself. “all of them dressed in their finery of silks and burnished armor, each seeking to impress upon the other his or her importance, to show just how seriously they view this event. Foolish children! Oh, how little they realize their true purpose for circling the carcass is not to consume the disease and rot, but to selfishly satisfy a hungry belly… to be venerated and respected by their fellow man.” She sadly nodded. “The crow revels in its self-glory.”

  While looking at Darla, she thought of Trisha, Jebbson and a few of the other, more troublesome children hidden in the crowd, smiling. “There do reside the eagles among us. ‘Damn the earth and sky!’ they cry out to all living flesh. ‘We care not for counsel or for petty rules of law. We take what we will, when we wish, and how we want! Should all the world be ruined if it stands in our way! We bide no creed nor stand any oath, for we are the Children of the Bloodwind, rulers over Heaven, Men, and Hell!’” Lowenah remembered well those words spoken so many long years ago in a world grim and pitiless, during a time filled with hopeless despair.

  Darla slipped in the sand, all the tiny bells jangling violently. Lowenah felt it, smiling. She could tell by the very harmonics that all the others around felt it, affecting them ever so slightly. She looked far ahead at the nattily dressed officer, the prince of his people. Yes...yes, he had felt it, too, his face clouding with uncertainty.

  Thinking how Darla must look the clown in this ocean of finely attired dignitaries, Lowenah laughed to herself, ‘Fools! The clown’s appearance hides the talons of a fighting eagle that will soon rip apart this people’s little world. And down the Great Dragon will be hurled! This day my eagles shall tear him from his throne and cast all that is his into the dark abyss. The hooks are already in my hand. Now for my darling eagles to set them…’

  The party was drawing close now, less than thirty rods separating the opposing forces. Mihai’s heart began to ache as she studied closely the leaders standing out in front of the others. Most prominent among them was Asotos… Chrusion! She must remember to use ‘Chrusion’ when addressing him... No! Use ‘Adelphos’- brother - ‘Adelphos’. There he stood, a true leader among men, tall, majestic and powerful, filled with confidence - a leader to be so adored.

  Mihai silently cursed, frowning. Why must her heart fawn so over this beast, he the very man who destroyed her, her world, and oh, oh so many other beautiful things? To him, her heart beckoned, for him to hold her and make the darkness go away. Why, oh why did she have to feel this way, at this very time, this very moment?

  With each advancing step, Mihai found her body shrinking before the looming giant awaiting her presence. Chrusion… Adelphos… grew in his imposing stature, brimming with dignity and self-confidence.

  Beads of sweat broke out on Mihai’s forehead, her growing despair driving all hope from the woman’s heart. She silently cried out to her mother, ‘I cannot do this thing alone! Lowenah! Oh Lowenah! Do give me strength, or your little child will fade away into nothingness!’

  Trisha stumbled again, as if being pushed, slamming hard into Mihai’s side.

  “Bitch! Stupid little bitch worm!” Mihai angrily snarled into Trisha’s ear. “Go back to forgotten places and leave this world to itself! Be off with you, maggot!”

  Trisha’s heart was breaking as with the pain of a mother losing her child in birth, but she said not a word. If death and humiliation were the weapons needed to win this day, then so be it.

 

  Red may the field of honor become,

  Before the sun sets upon the victory won.

  And the heroes forcing that battle line,

  Live not to drink the victory wine.

  So Trisha would weather the storm to deliver victory from certain defeat, no matter the cost or the shame endured to attain it.