White Angel

by R A Oakes

“Be prepared for the worst,” Chen added with a renewed firm edge to her voice. “Focus on what could go wrong. Good fortune breeds nothing but trouble.”

  But she still couldn’t get herself to stop feeling happy. Finally, when she couldn’t hold her excitement in any longer, she said, “This is going to be fun.”

  “I’m glad someone feels the way I do,” Corson said. “I couldn’t have invented anything this much fun if I had tried.”

  But Gwendylln was in no mood for such talk and was prowling the courtyard in front of them with her eyes looking for signs of trouble. Then, she reminded them of the seriousness of their mission. “We need to get into the tiger compound and secure it before Marcheto and Chaktar arrive. We don’t want the king getting killed the moment he reenters this world.”

  “But we can’t go there yet,” Tenacity warned them. “I’ve talked to the women with us who’ve been here before. They say we’re expected to proceed on our own to a large hall where a group of males will be waiting. If we don’t show, they’ll come looking for us.”

  “How many are usually waiting?” Gwendylln asked.

  “Swarenth doesn’t want his warriors fighting amongst themselves over the women, so he always has an equal number of males and females. I’d say figure on there being around 200 males.”

  “His warriors will be expecting a submissive bunch of rag dolls, won’t they?” Gwendylln asked.

  “Yes, pretty much,” Tenacity said, embarrassed for the village women with them who’d endured such degrading and humiliating experiences in an effort to obtain food. However, the women now understood that they’d been consorting with the enemy and had sold themselves cheaply. Tenacity had warned them that such behavior was self-destructive. The village women accompanying her here were either from Coldstream Village, and had never gone that route, or were from other villages and had walked that path temporarily until coming around to Tenacity’s way of thinking. It was these women, most of all, who wanted revenge.

  “How big is the hall we’re going to?” Gwendylln asked.

  “Well, it’s not exactly a hall,” Tenacity replied.

  “No? What is it then?”

  “I’m told it’s something a bit earthier.”

  “What do you mean earthier?”

  “It has a dirt floor.”

  “A barn?”

  “Yes, a giant horse barn. Sort of a large arena made out of stone,” Tenacity said.

  “The gargoyles actually have a roll in the hay?”

  “Some do, but many take the women off to more private quarters.”

  “Don’t lie. You might as well tell her the truth,” one of the village women who had participated in such a squalid endeavor said. “They used us like animals. Some of the filthy winged apes had us in the corral outside. Some right in their own charnuk’s stall, you know, those ugly beasts they ride. It was a nightmare.”

  Gwendylln went cold with anger. “Why would you allow yourself to be degraded like that?”

  “I must have been insane, but I didn’t know how to fight before. I didn’t know how to defend myself. Now that I’ve been trained in the arts of war, I have more self-confidence. I feel more in control of my own life.”

  “Go on,” Gwendylln urged her, seeing that the woman had more to say.

  “Women need to start taking what they want. Males do. Why do most women try to keep the peace, no matter what the price? Open conflict is better than silent rage. If women want peace, then they have to be prepared to fight to get it. Peace through strength. It’s the only thing males understand. Hit a man in the head with a club and you’ll get his respect. I know life shouldn’t have to be that way, but that’s how it is. The more you submit to a male, the more he’ll want. But the more prepared you are to fight back, the more a male will do for you. Males need to be forced to behave. Women need to be able to train them. If you want to follow a nesting instinct, do it with a sword in one hand and a knife in the other.”

  “You’ll drive him away. A man won’t stay unless he feels he’s in charge,” Gwendylln said playing devil’s advocate. She wanted to test this village woman to determine the firmness of her beliefs.

  “If he wants to leave, show him the door. If he’s like that, he’s not a man anyway. He’s just a boy in a man’s body. It’s boys who fear commitment, not men. Men welcome responsibility. Men honor their commitments.”

  “I hope that proves true for you,” Gwendylln said. But turning to Chen, she added, “Personally, I hate all men.”

  Chen remained silent. She used to feel the same way but now no longer hated them all. Breathing a sigh of relief, she thought about Lord Pensgraft, her husband. She was pleased with her marriage and knew he felt the same way. She also liked Marcheto, Eldwyn, King Tarlen and Captain Polaris. They had all earned her trust, which was quite an accomplishment, given that they were the only men who ever had.

  It’s not that she necessarily distrusted men upon meeting them. It’s just that she didn’t trust them, if that makes any sense. It did to her.

  Gwendylln, wanting everyone to focus once more on the situation at hand, turned to the village woman again and asked, “So tell me, how should we handle the males once we reach the horse barn?”

  With a wicked gleam in her eye, the village woman said, “Draw all the gargoyles inside and lock the doors. Then, none of us leaves until every gargoyle is dead.”

  “Nice plan,” Gwendylln said patting her gently on the back. “But do you have the courage to implement it?”

  “If I can kill even one gargoyle, I’ll die a happy woman.”

  “Nice definition of happiness.”

  “The more of them I kill, the happier I’ll be.”

  “Ahh, nothing like a woman with a sword in her hand and the will to use it.”

  “Happiness is a sharp blade.”

  “Give this woman a medal,” Gwendylln smiled. “Okay, there’s the horse barn. You can be in front and take the lead. Go ahead, you’ve earned it.”

  “Thank you,” the woman said, a tear running down one cheek.

  “Playact a little,” Gwendylln instructed her. “Act happy to see them, get them inside and stick a knife in their ribs.”

  “Gladly.”

  With grim determination, the women headed towards the barn. Then, as planned, they drew the gargoyles inside, bolted the doors and doffed their cloaks. Upon seeing Chen’s warrior women dressed in black leather and glaring at them, the winged apes were taken by surprise. What also surprised them was how quickly they all died.

  Chapter 16

  On the trail leading to Dominion Castle.

  While Chen, Tenacity and 200 women were making their way towards the rear entrance of the tiger compound, Genevieve, Marcheto, Aerylln, Baelfire, Zorya, Jewel and Flame were on the mountain trail not far behind. Taking the lead were two majestic tigers, Prophet and Chaktar. They were the same breed, but there was a distinct difference people used to tell them apart. One was dead, the other alive.

  Prophet had died helping Chaktar escape from a gladiator arena located outside the castle walls. Soon afterwards, Prophet had returned as an invisible warrior angel charged with the task of protecting and mentoring Chaktar, a young tiger who was, more so than any other big cat, the preeminent symbol of Kardimont rule. Chaktar, a huge 700- pound tiger, had inherited from his ancestors the ability to transform into a man, just as King Tarlen had inherited from his father, King Ulray, the ability to transform into a tiger.

  Now, following along behind the two big cats, Marcheto, in the form of a gargoyle, was riding Zorya with Baelfire hanging from the pommel of the saddle. Walking next to him were Aerylln, Genevieve, Jewel and Flame who’d been changed into female winged apes by the young wizard. And Zorya, no longer a magnificent warhorse, was now in the form of a scrawny charnuk. All were relieved to be traveling unhindered along the mountain path, for not a single gargoyle warrior had attempted to stop them.

  On this given day, Zorya was Marcheto’s mount because Aerylln
, like all gargoyle women, was required to walk wherever she went. No females were allowed to ride, even when taking meals out to gargoyle warriors who were patrolling roads or supervising farm workers. Limiting a female’s freedom of movement was yet another calculated, repressive measure gargoyle males used to keep their women under tight control.

  Before beginning the trek up the mountain, Marcheto and the two tigers had thought they’d be traveling alone, but Genevieve, Aerylln, Zorya, Baelfire, Jewel and Flame decided to come along. For one, Genevieve wanted to stay close to Marcheto since his wizard’s staff was the only link she had to her husband. Jewel and Flame hadn’t gone with Chen knowing that they’d need more than just cloaks to disguise themselves. Flame would have burned right through hers, and Jewel was concerned that the hood might not always hide her ruby-red face. Aerylln could’ve flown over the castle walls with Zorya but couldn’t risk being spotted.

  Though making good progress, their nerves were still on edge and the hike up the mountain seemed to take forever, but after a few hours they found themselves gazing upon the massive fortress Chen, Tenacity and the other women had seen only a short while ago. Even Genevieve, who’d lived all her life at Skybrook Castle, wasn’t prepared for the sheer size and scope of Dominion Castle. If Skybrook was a tree, then Dominion Castle was a forest.

  “Look at the size of the outer walls,” Jewel said in an awed tone of voice. But it wasn’t just the endless length and sky-invading height of the walls that was shocking her senses. The seemingly countless number of towers rising far above the battlements, ramparts and parapets also defied the imagination.

  However, it was Flame, always sensitive to emanations around her, who came up with the most insightful observation. “Can you feel it? There’s a mesmerizing presence about this castle. It has personality, even charisma. I can almost feel a pulse.”

  “I wonder if its pulse is racing because mine sure is,” Marcheto said. “Gargoyle warriors are swarming all over the outer walls. There must be thousands.”

  Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet shuddered, followed by a breeze carrying what sounded like the moans of a person in great distress. “This castle is suffering,” Flame said becoming alarmed. “Solid rock it might be, but I’m telling you, this fortress is living in anguish.”

  Marcheto and Aerylln exchanged glances.

  “Is that possible?” the young woman asked.

  “Well, there is a legend that says ‘living stones’ were used when Dominion Castle was under construction,” Marcheto said.

  “Living stones?”

  “It’s said that centuries ago, a great wizard was trapped by evil forces on the edge of a high cliff. Defiant to the very end and not wanting to be taken prisoner, he shouted a powerful incantation and hurled himself off the precipice. Later, they searched for his shattered body on the rocks below but found only his bloodstained robe.”

  “Could he have survived the fall?”

  “No, I don’t think so. His body was never found, but the rocks where he landed were drenched in blood.”

  “What do you think happened to him?”

  “Eldwyn says there are those who believe the wizard’s body and spirit were absorbed by the rocks. Some say the ancient mystic’s alive even now.” “Alive where?”

  In answer, Marcheto looked up at the imposing fortress looming over them.

  “You mean the Kardimonts used bloodstained rocks to build Dominion Castle?” Aerylln asked.

  “At least part of it,” Marcheto said. “According to the legend, they established a quarry taking out hundreds of tons of rock from that spot and the whole surrounding area.”

  “It’s a nice story, if it’s true,” Aerylln said doubtfully.

  “Eldwyn believes it. In fact, he says the wizard who died upon those rocks was one of his ancestors.”

  “Whatever it takes for him to get through the day, I suppose.”

  Marcheto was a little surprised by Aerylln’s cynical response, but he pressed on saying, “What if the ancient wizard’s spirit wakes up and realizes we’re here not only to rescue King Tarlen but to liberate the castle from gargoyle rule?”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Aerylln said feeling despondent. Seeing thousands of gargoyles safe and secure behind Dominion Castle’s outer walls was having a devastating effect on her emotions.

  “I realize things don’t look too good,” Marcheto said greatly understating the serious nature of their predicament.

  Aerylln’s shoulders slumped, and she lowered her head, sighed and said, “We need to face the facts. There’s no real hope of taking back this castle.”

  “There’s always hope, Aerylln,” Genevieve said, knowing her words sounded empty.

  “Based on what, an ancient legend? Those bloodstained, spirit-filled rocks didn’t do anything to help King Ulray 30 years ago.”

  “Maybe the ‘living stones’ have been waiting for White Angel to awaken them?”

  “Please stop it. I’m so tired of people expecting the prophecy to be a cure-all for everything. It’s time we became more realistic. First of all, even though we destroyed Balzekior’s lake of fire, there’s still more lava around here than at Firecrest Castle and look how much trouble she was there.”

  “But that’s because Chen created the Trinity of Darkness with the dark sword, Crystal, and the Crystal Medallion. When she did that, Chen not only increased her own power but Balzekior’s,” Genevieve reminded Aerylln.

  “Where’s the dark sword now?” Marcheto asked nervously.

  “Andrina’s holding onto it for Chen, and Gwendylln’s wearing the Crystal Medallion. Chen can’t risk uniting herself with those two again, at least not here,” Genevieve said.

  “Then why did she bring Crystal with her?” Marcheto asked.

  “A dark sword’s not exactly something you can just leave behind. You know what a troublemaker Crystal can be if left to her own devices.”

  “That’s for sure,” Aerylln agreed, but her thoughts quickly returned to the problems at hand. Looking at Dominion Castle she said, “Building this fortress was a monumental achievement for the Kardimonts, but I’m afraid it’s going to remain under gargoyle control.”

  “Aerylln, you can’t lose heart. Everything depends upon you,” Genevieve said.

  “But that’s the problem. Everything can’t depend solely upon me.”

  “We can’t stop now. Two hundred of our friends have already gone inside,” Genevieve said.

  “I’m not giving up,” Aerylln said defensively. “However, when my father arrives, he’ll have fewer than 3,000 warriors, and Swarenth has that many gargoyles protecting the mountain trail fortifications alone. What if my father can’t reach the castle gates? And even if he does, look what’s waiting for him.”

  “Yes, but Mother Protector prophesized that White Angel would lead the king’s army to victory. You’re White Angel. You above all must keep the faith.”

  “Faith shouldn’t blind us to reality. Faith is what gives us the strength to take a hard look at reality.”

  “Aerylln, we’ve got to reach the tiger compound. That’s the only way my husband can reenter this world. Your faith must allow you to go that far.”

  “And then what? Have him killed by Swarenth’s troops like his father?”

  “But what else can we do?”

  “I don’t know, but lying to ourselves isn’t the answer. The way things stand now, we will fail.”

  Aerylln fell silent for a few moments, delving deeply into her inner spirit. Freeing her mind of all the reasons why they couldn’t possibly win, she became open to nothing and everything. Suddenly, she stood straighter, squared her shoulders and her eyes brightened. Turning to Baelfire and Zorya, she said, “You’ve taught me that neither time nor space can break the link that binds us together as one.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Baelfire said, and Zorya nodded in agreement.

  “You’re certain beyond a shadow of a doubt?”

  “Yes,” Bael
fire said, a little apprehensively this time while Zorya nodded cautiously wondering what their young master had in mind.

  “What are you planning on doing?” Genevieve asked.

  “I’m not sure, but the person King Tarlen needs most is his father. King Ulray was the greatest warrior king ever. He’d know what to do,” Aerylln said.

  “What are you talking about? King Ulray’s been dead for a long time. He was never around when Tarlen needed him.”

  “It’s about time that changed,” Aerylln said firmly. Then, clenching her fists, she took a deep breath and began walking towards the front gates.

  Chapter 17

  Outside Dominion Castle’s tiger compound.

  Sword in hand, Chen defiantly threw open the door to the animal caretaker’s quarters glancing around the room and searching for anyone or anything that might dare to defy her authority. “We leave here as victors or not at all,” Chen snarled at the warrior women closest to her.

  Backing up the black leather panther were Gwendylln, Andrina and Corson. Three very ferocious warriors. Behind them were 100 women dressed in black leather with their swords drawn and ready to jump into the fray over the least provocation. Next, were Tenacity and her village women, some of whom were more frightened by Chen’s behavior than by the thought of meeting gargoyles. Chen was in the “zone” as her warrior women called it and was ready and eager for action.

  Gwendylln, Andrina and Corson had their own fears. They were nervous that they’d jump ahead of Chen to make the first kill, slighting their master and incurring her wrath. These three women feared nothing, that is, nothing except for Chen.

  The black leather panther boldly strode across the room and ripped open a second door, not bothering to take the time to open it a crack and peer through. But it didn’t matter. She knew her warrior women would have to face whatever was on the other side regardless of the consequences. So why, Chen figured, risk giving up the element of surprise?

  Fortunately, they walked into a large empty room, in the middle of which was a wall of vertical iron bars running from floor to ceiling. The black leather panther moved swiftly, reached the bars and looked into an area filled with dozens of animal cages, but these too were empty. On the far wall, closed double doors blocked her view of a huge exercise yard, one that had been home to Prophet and Chaktar for years.