The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix

by Ava D. Dohn

  Section Ten: Whispers of the Kriggerman

  The little carriage zipped down the street, its engine making a pleasant ‘pop! pop! pop!’ noise as it pulled a small hill before coasting to a stop outside the northern concourse entrance beneath the palace. A dapper looking fellow gingerly stepped down, turning, offered his hand to the two women exiting.

  Looking about at the late morning hustle of the crowded street, he mused, “It was so kind of Mother to offer us her autocar so that we might arrive for the luncheon hour.” He pulled Trisha close in a one-armed hug. “It feels good to be home again...”

  Trisha glanced at Sarah, both women remaining silent. Home? For Zadar, maybe, but for them? What was this heaven to them? Home?

  Trisha and Sarah had become close while convalescing. They found a commonality in many respects, each living in an abusive world polluted with mistrust, deceit and treachery. Oh yes, Sarah’s was far more violent, filled with constant danger and physical abuse of every sort. Trisha’s, though less threatening for the body, was a living torment and just as destructive to heart and mind.

  Neither woman had been of great importance in their worlds of old, Sarah a slave, fighting each day for her life until an agonizing cancer consumed her, and Trisha, a lowly wife and mother taken by scandal and humiliation, dying alone, an old, decrepit outcast among her own people. What had changed here for them that was so different, they still outcasts living violent lives? Humble in origin, simple folk, illiterate as to written speech, versed not in prose and promise of the new religion each had embraced, they had struggled on because of the hope shone forth for a better life, far away from the evil that engulfed their universe.

  Though both Trisha and Sarah had envisioned differently the world beyond their old, what confronted them when arriving here was not at all what they had imagined. The stories told of Heaven certainly were not their reality. The beating of plowshares into swords was the rule of the day. Treachery and intrigues, ruined outposts and raided outland villages, death and injury were the realities of the Heaven they had been delivered to. To them, it was no gift to have been given smashing weapons to destroy the wicked. John’s words of promise, penned years after both women were asleep in the Web of the Minds, appealed not at all. Peace and freedom from care remained only dreams for them, both having spilt the blood of their enemies since arriving here.

  Then there were the words of that Cherub fellow, RosMismar, that were so disconcerting and troubling. His laugh and chiding remarks still echoed painfully in their ears. ‘You think you bested that Worm?! Let me tell you, for a fact I know the truth, because it was I who bathed him in the witching glory he possesses. No other mortal save Gabrielle…possibly… would survive his concentrated assault! Should all three of the Swords gather their might together, it would be a sorrowfully insufficient defense against him.’

  To Trisha he revealed, ‘Do not think it was by wit or prowess that you humiliated your foe at the Prisoner Exchange! If it were not for the distracting trickery of our Mother Witch, your hide would have been flayed from off your flesh before your hand had reached the Evil One’s belt. The music of the bells that you could not even hear was all that saved you that day - that and the gray cloak of mystery that the Mother Witch shrouded you and your kind with.”

  “The Evil One could have torn you asunder with his very thoughts at any moment except for the fear and uncertainty Lowenah flooded him with. She did so to fill his heart with doubt, for a riddle far beyond the Prisoner Exchange was being played out to the full that day. Should her ruse have cost all the lives of those in your charge, it would have been a bargain price for what was gained. Life in these worlds goes on because of the contest won by another soul tested.”

  Sarah faired his rebuke little better. “Oh, great and powerful the Mistress of Death thinks she is! Foolish, I say, so foolish... Did you believe the white flame in your sword was controlled by you? I say not, for the Cherub residing there was placed in its power by my very hand. Should your weapon have fallen from its owner’s hand, it would have still cleaved an army of its attackers.”

  “You are a great Sword, one of the Three. One day, like me you will become, with my powers and my glory...one day. For now, you live or die by the mercy of my kind. We care not for love or hate, or good or bad! Our devotion is to the One we love and to Her success. The game she has placed on the board and its victorious finish we - my kind - will see to. You are but a player in the game. We are the masters moving you about. Just so that you should know: the Evil One did not notice you skulking about in his world because you stink with that same evil, which cloaks the Third Element dwelling within your heart. Do not be fooled into thinking he could not scent you out, should he discover the truth about you. Do be careful! His naivety regarding you is not everlasting...”

  RosMismar frowned, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his true feelings. “Your Lowenah is quite fond of your kind, of you. For what reason, is beyond me...” He sat down on one of the ship’s lounge chairs, sighing. “That being the case, I guess my kind will have to remain extra vigilant, taking care to see to your welfare… at least until you manage to grow up and take care of your own. Can’t leave you go about getting chopped up or captured now, can we? Wouldn’t look good to have Lowenah’s captains made fools of, especially by the biggest fool of them all...”

  Leaning forward, he cautioned, “You feel a power percolating deep within you, but its hour has not yet come to awake. Worry not, it will. Until the Hour of the Seraph has come to its finish and Gradian’s Clock chimes a new day, it will sleep. When it finally does wake, you will eventually become like our kind, knowing good and bad. Be patient, it will grow in its own way and at its own pace. You cannot hurry it. Let your wisdom mature, along with your glory ahead of it. For wisdom you may abound in at any time, there being no chains upon it other than your own foolishness.”

  Yes, it had been quite a time for lessons taught and learned. Trisha and Sarah were changed by the experience, but still needed time to embrace the truths and revelations RosMismar delivered. Today they would begin, having promised the Cherub just this morning when departing Lowenah’s trade ship in the nearby hills east of Palace City.

  Trisha snuggled up in Zadar’s embrace, openly showing her affection for him. Heaven had not played false for her in regard this man. Zadar loved her and she loved him, and could freely express that love without fear of ridicule or reprisal. She looked up at him, a smile breaking across her face. A wince instantly followed, and then a quiet groan.

  Zadar reached over and tenderly touched Trisha’s face. “You look more beautiful than ever, but it will take some time for the nerves to completely heal. The dear fellow who assisted in your repair chose to leave a friendly reminder for a little while just so, you know...”

  Trisha nodded in agreement. “To help teach me a lesson not to be so full of myself, and to remember the pain when others I order through Hell’s gate. I will take my medicine. It has already rewarded me in many ways.” She reached over and took Sarah’s hand.

  Sarah smiled sheepishly, squeezing Trisha’s hand. Her heart was badly damage from living so many years in violent slavery. Rare was the companion she learned to trust or even care for, and only a small handful of them were men. For several years, she had wandered these worlds alone, seeking the company of others when necessity was forced upon her. A tall woman whose stature was equal to Euroaquilo’s she was, easy to notice in a crowd. So to the nightly shadows and back streets she often stayed, using her cloaking powers to remain hidden from others.

  Romance? Little did Sarah care for it, the price she paid for the cruelty heaped upon her for so many years. She would slowly murder her opponent in the private arena, knowing how the revelers enjoyed it, possibly buying her a night free of groping hands. Often times she would be forced to have relations with her male combatant in front of the gathered crowd before fighting him to the death.
Since arriving in this world, she had rarely romanced any man, and then only for a needed dream-share or when the heat was heavy upon her, which was very rare.

  Admiral Euroaquilo and Captain Asarel were acquaintances of Sarah, tending to clandestine activities while keeping her presence secret. She had developed a close relationship of sorts with each. When her animal within awoke to its sybaritic passions, the arms of one of these two men the woman would trust to, they knowing her need to satisfy the carnal beast while leaving her heart unfettered of obligation.

  Seeing Trisha’s reassuring glance, Sarah relaxed a bit. No longer would she be hiding in the shadows of this world. Very soon her name was to be broadcast across the Empire. In just a few days, there was to be a great council and she was to be revealed at that time. It felt good that she would not be a lone stranger in the room - that Trisha would also be with her, giving her support.

  A shudder ran down Sarah’s back as she recalled her previous encounter with Trisha. Just how precious a treasure she had become over the past few days was profound. Trisha made her feel wanted, cared for… beautiful, which the woman truly was, but refused to see. While resting in Trisha’s arms, she could forget all the evils of her past and become the innocent girl, wishing only to be touched with love. Yes, she believed, Trisha was the first and only person she ever was in love with.

  Zadar called out to some acquaintances passing nearby, introducing them to the others. While they politely chatted, Sarah watched Zadar. She liked him very much, loved him, too, in a way - more like a brother she never had. He was fun, charming and very handsome, but also caring and gentle. Sarah watched the way he treated Trisha, fawned over her, the sweet love they made together. As much as her heart wished for a man to care for her needs in such a way, she was not ready to accept those advances, and Zadar understood that. Well he respected her, not even offering a flirting glance, yet always surrendering the divan to private shadows when she wished for his lover’s embrace.

  Zadar was not left unchanged by his recent adventures either. RosMismar spent an extraordinary amount of time with the fellow, sharing tales of wonder and delight, explaining the history of his kind in ways never revealed. Some of the secrets of Lagandow and his mistress mentor, Gabrielle, were also disclosed. RosMismar wagged a finger to emphasize what he was telling. “You must remember these things for future days. As great as the Lord of the Crystal Skies is, she will need you in the coming hour. Gentle is the woman, more fragile than a flower blossom. Badly broken she is, too. The time is soon to arrive when you, alone, will be able to sustain her constitution until the calling of the crow.”

  Zadar was filled with so many questions. RosMismar patiently answered all he could. The hours of waiting while Trisha and Sarah healed were filled with the Cherub’s often-whimsical remedies and anecdotes. The fellow was such a great story teller, Zadar was just forced to hang on his every word. The time was not wasted on Zadar. When finished, the man was well-learnt in the history of Trisha, Sarah, Ishtar, and Gabrielle. Regarding Gabrielle, RosMismar warned, “Tell no one, and do not let the Lady know what secrets of her heart have been revealed to you.”

  Zadar promised and, with his newfound knowledge, attempted to put it to wise use. He played in Trisha’s dreams to arouse her senses for love while shading the aches of past abuses. With Sarah, he covered any amorous desires he might harbor, for Sarah was a woman beautiful in the extreme. His eyes did not wander her comely form, nor did his words ever carry sensual music upon them. When he held her in an embrace, it was for her comfort of heart with no hint of passion or desire for her body.

  While they stood there talking in casual conversation, Zadar’s and Sarah’s eyes met, Zadar feeling a flutter in his heart. Could it be? Was he also falling in love with this woman like he had with Trisha? For sure he did not know, but it felt good to think it might be so. Maybe this kind of love was catching. Was it possible a man could be this deeply in love with more than one woman...with many women? Zadar hoped so, because it felt so right for it to be that way.

  Zadar’s acquaintances were just departed and the trio started for the North Concourse doors when someone shouted out to Zadar’s name. “Hey there, old fellow! Wait up!”

  A tired, opened-top lorry filled with raucous merrymakers slowly wheezed to a stop beside the curb. As the porter hurried about getting luggage and packages from the machine - long in need of proper repair - the crowd aboard scrambled out through the doors and over the sides. Off they scampered, making their way toward festivities going on within the lower palace complex.

  Searching the crowd for the person behind the voice, Zadar spied his old friend, Crilen, as he crawled over the side of the lorry and dropped into the street near the curb. Extending his arms, Crilen called up to a woman struggling to do the same. “C’mon, Chesse, you gonna take all day?”

  Chesse grumbled something about her clothing being hung up. At that moment, another person slid over the side of the machine, catching up the woman’s feet in passing. With a cry, Chesse slipped and fell, her blouse caught fast on a rail hook.

  “Omph!” Chesse moaned, her body slamming against the side of the lorry, feet dangling several inches above the street.

  Rr-rr-i-ii-pp! She suddenly came free of the blouse, crashing backward and down, falling into Crilen’s arms. Zadar hurried over while Crilen checked Chesse for injuries. Shaken a bit, Chesse looked herself over, examining a bloodied bruise on her elbow. “Just a little scratch is all...” She offered reassuringly, fussing over Crilen’s undue concern.

  After taking a quick look for himself, Zadar agreed that the injury was minor, but encouraged Chesse to get some ice for possible swelling. Someone shouted down to the others, tossing the torn blouse to a half-naked Chesse. “You look much better without it!” the man exclaimed. “Hoped you’d stay aboard until the spaceport. Then I could have helped you out of the rest of those duds.”

  “Next time! Next time!” Chesse grinned, shouting up, flirtingly. Holding up the damaged garment, she sang out a woeful ode to it...

  “A poor man’s shirt I’ll never be,

  For my master hanged me from a tree.

  My blow is mortal, my time has come.

  I shall be cast away in the morning sun.”

  She tossed the ruined blouse back into the lorry, calling out to the man, “Take this token of my love and keep it safe under your pillow. When you are bedding another, think of the rapturous love you’d wished to have. It’ll make your romance a bit sweeter, dreaming of me and what might have been.”

  The man clutched the blouse, throwing kisses while feigning love lost. He extolled his desires to share more than dreams, expressing his wishes in waxing prose of not so subtle terms. Chesse threw him back a kiss, promising her eternal devotion should their paths cross again. The lorry jerked to a start, the man grabbing hold the machine’s side rail for fear of tumbling over. Everyone laughed, waving as the fellow continued to blow kisses until the lorry rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

  Trisha and Sarah arrived just after the lorry was gone. Zadar wasted no time introducing the women to his friends. “This is midshipman Crilen, newly appointed to the imperial frigate, Shikkeron. We’ve been on countless adventures together. We shared the same fire and ate from the same mess. If you’re ever in need of a good pack mule for a long journey, ask this fellow to accompany you. He rarely complains, doesn’t eat much, and will work hard all day for a little ale and a horse blanket.”

  Crilen bowed politely, taking first Trisha’s and then Sarah’s hands, giving each a kiss. “Field Marshal Trisha, may I commend you on your brilliant and masterful successes at the Prisoner Exchange! Such a strategy needs be written in the Officers’ Training Manual for all of us to study.” He then offered his salutations to Sarah.

  After the women returned their greetings, Zadar introduced Chesse. “This is Colonel ChasileahUUnooNiemie, a precious and treasured compa
nion of mine.”

  Embarrassed by Zadar’s comments, Chesse quickly extended a hand. “Field Marshal Trisha, a pleasure to make your formal acquaintance. We first met at the Spaceport Diner, if you recall, me delivering packages. I… I work with the Postal.”

  Trisha politely shook Chesse’s extended hand. “Yes, yes I do remember you, though we were not properly introduced then. Chess, I recall.”

  Zadar broke in, his face beaming with a huge grin as he wrapped an arm about Chesse’s shoulders. “She’s too modest, she is. Saved my life, she did. There I lay, all torn up and bleeding badly. The colonel here dove over me to shield me from the crashing missiles and then began dragging me up the hill for some three furlongs to get me out of harm’s way. All the while, she was nursing a wound from a jillson bolt slammed through her ribs and a broken ankle.”

  “Zadar, please...” Chesse’s face clouded with shades of disquiet.

  Zadar ignored her request. “Got me into a blasted out bombproof and tended to my needs, keeping me alive while she slowly bled, nearly to death. The medics thought us both dead when they found us crumpled up together the following morning. She’s my angel, I tell you.”

  Chesse lowered her head, letting go of Trisha’s hand. Then looking up, she replied haltingly, “You know, things done when… it wasn’t anything special.”

  Trisha could see the shame reflected in Chesse’s eyes and smiled, understanding a person’s need to keep some things secret. “Well…it’s a pleasure to have made the acquaintance of such a brave and stalwart servant, Co…”

  “Chesse, or Chasileah…with the Postal.” Chesse interrupted. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Field Marshal Trisha.”

  Trisha smiled. “It’s Trish or Trisha… in the king’s service.”

  Chesse thanked her. “Trisha it is.”

  After proper introductions were completed, the conversation turned to why everyone was here, and what the day’s plans were. After listening for a while, Trisha recommended that Zadar take the afternoon to spend with his other companions. “There’s important business to attend to after the luncheon today that may possibly occupy a great deal of our time. My lieutenant will be of little use to us. It would be so kind of you to take him into your charge for a while. Keep him out of trouble, if you know what I mean.”

  All agreed, thinking it a splendid idea. Zadar gave Trisha a rather passionate kiss, promising a later return. Trisha invited everyone to dine with her at seven that night. “Leftenant Crilen and… and Chesse, please come when you fetch my attendant. I will be expecting you both.”

  Crilen did not hesitate, saying he would be delighted. Chesse stalled, feigning excuse until Zadar cajoled her into accepting. Trisha grinned, pleased. “We shall see you then.”

  After Trisha and Sarah departed, Zadar and the others grabbed a quick lunch from a street vendor. As they ate, a discussion arose over where to go. “It’s been months since I’ve been to Diamond Ridge.” Crilen offered.

  After asking the vendor when the next northbound lorry was scheduled to arrive, Chesse turned to the others, disappointed. “We’ve not the time to get there and back for dinner. I did so much wish to see the Ridge. It’s so beautiful this time of year.”

  Zadar snapped his fingers. “I’ve a remedy, I believe. Mihai has an old motorcar stabled not far from here. I’m sure she won’t mind if we borrow it for the afternoon.”

  Twenty minutes later, a hard-topped carriage sedan was speeding north with three passengers anticipating an afternoon luxuriating in the mineral springs of the Diamond.