Rune Warrior

by Frank Morin

  “Tell us about it,” Sarah said eagerly.

  “Later,” Gregorios said, even though Eirene knew he wouldn’t want to. “We’re getting distracted. We never saw the hat man today, but he had to have been there. Something drew us to that memory.”

  “It wasn’t us,” Eirene said. “It had to be him. Someone started actively twisting it near the end, and their mind was extremely powerful.

  “What do you think he was trying to accomplish there?” Tomas asked.

  Gregorios shrugged. “I don’t see any pattern to it yet.”

  “It’s all been about Spartacus,” Sarah said.

  “I think it’s time to check on him,” Eirene said.

  “What do you mean?” Tomas asked. “He’s been dead almost two thousand years.”

  “Too bad,” Alter said. “I rather wish I could meet him.”

  “Perhaps you will,” Gregorios said.

  “I doubt it,” Alter said, not getting the point. “Even if you get your core stabilized so I can join you in another memory, I don’t think I’d help you kill him again.”

  “Oh, he’s not dead,” Eirene said.

  “What?” The three young ones exclaimed together.

  “I told you we defeated him,” she said. “I didn’t say we killed him.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Sarah said, her expression horrified. She probably thought they’d locked his soulmask in a coffin somewhere.

  “He became Baladeva’s top agent, leading insurrections against Rome and the council,” Gregorios explained. “He helped orchestrate the sacking of Rome and the deaths of thousands. His punishment had to be something special to make sure no one ever tried to do those things again.”

  “What did you do?” Tomas asked.

  “We removed his soul.”

  “And then what?” Alter pressed.

  “Nothing,” Gregorios said.

  “Nothing…?” Alter repeated.

  “Well that’s not exactly true,” Eirene said. “We had his soulmask bronzed and incorporated into a statue.”

  “Turned out rather well actually,” Gregorios said with a satisfied smile.

  Alter leaped to his feet. “Demons! How could you?”

  “Back then it was easy to get something bronzed,” Gregorios said. “Wasn’t hard at all.”

  “You’re as bad as my father warned,” Alter snarled.

  “Careful, son,” Gregorios said.

  Eirene cringed to see them fighting again. Her relationship with Alter was still so fragile. Any incorrect assumptions could damage it forever. She’d wanted to connect with the hunters again, and Alter was her best chance to do so. As her great-grandson…An idea struck that rocked her and she stared at the angry young hunter, considering the possibilities.

  “Why?” Alter demanded. “Are you going to remove my soul too, like you did my brother? Like you did to Spartacus?”

  “You’re jumping to conclusions,” Gregorios said, starting to get annoyed. “Your brother wasn’t the first enemy I spared when maybe I shouldn’t have.”

  “You think Spartacus has survived all these years?” Sarah asked.

  “I can’t imagine it,” Alter said. “Reuben suffered almost more than he could bear in the few short years you left him dispossessed.”

  “Reuben isn’t as strong as he thinks he is,” Gregorios said.

  “Where did you leave him?” Tomas seemed fascinated by the discussion.

  “He’s still here in Rome,” Eirene said. “We salute him every time we pass by.”

  Sarah gaped. “That’s why you flip off that Arch.”

  “There’s always a reason,” Gregorios said.

  Alter’s face was livid. “What gives you the right to decide everyone else’s fate?”

  “The right of survivorship.”

  Alter leaned over the table, fists clenched. Eirene wasn’t sure if he was planning to punch Gregorios or storm out of the room. The conference phone buzzed, interrupting the argument. Harriett’s voice came through the speaker.

  “Dad, the hunter chief Melek is on the line for Alter.”

  “Put him through,” Eirene said.

  “Father, are you there?” Alter asked.

  “I am.” Melek sounded weak.

  “We’re all glad to hear you’re safe,” Gregorios said.

  “Don’t speak to me, demon betrayer!” Melek shouted. “I’ve taken the blood oath. You will face the righteous vengeance of my clan.”

  Alter’s glare at Gregorios deepened. “Father, this line isn’t secure. I’ll call you back.”

  The phone clicked off, and he marched out of the room.

  “Wow,” Tomas said into the silence.

  “Something has happened,” Eirene said. “It sounded like Melek thinks we were involved in that attack.”

  “Alter won’t believe it,” Sarah said. Her faith in the young hunter was refreshing, and naive.

  “If he does, it’ll wreck everything we’re trying to do,” Tomas added.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Gregorios promised them. “Hopefully before Alter does something stupid.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  It is better to live for one day as a lion than for a thousand years as a sheep.

  ~Tibetan proverb

  Gregorios summoned the council for a meeting. Most of the other facetakers gathered within minutes. Ten minutes later, an enforcer entered the room and saluted.

  “Sir, we can’t find Councilman John.”

  “Isn’t he recovering in his apartment?”

  “He was, but now there’s no sign of him or Frederick.”

  “It’s unlike Frederick not to keep in touch.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Track him down and send him in when you do.”

  The enforcer saluted again and withdrew.

  Gregorios turned to the gathered group. Only Harald and Zuri remained of the previous council. To round out the committee, he had invited his three children to attend. There were a few other facetakers with more seniority, but they were scattered around the globe on various assignments or hunkering down on their private estates. None seemed eager to rush to Rome during the time of crisis.

  Eirene sat beside him at the head of the table. Tomas stood at the far end of the room, providing security. Sarah had returned to Quentin’s estate. The way things were shaping up, she was going to need all the rest she could get.

  “What is the international status?” Gregorios asked without preamble.

  Harald, who wore a large-framed form in its late sixties, reported. “It appears Jerusalem was struck in multiple locations simultaneously. Rather than the normal rocket attacks, the city proper was targeted.”

  The big facetaker always preferred large bodies, ever since his early days as a Viking. He oversaw the organization’s efforts to filter history and write the facetakers out of existence.

  He pushed his glasses a little higher and consulted his notes. “In six locations, the bombs were triggered by remote control. Lots of flash but not many casualties. The seventh location was the attack on the hunter headquarters. Reports tell of a well-armed assault with heavy weapons and some kind of nerve agent. We’re trying to get specifics, but it sounds like it was potent enough to disorient even the hunters. The assault took less than four minutes and the assailants escaped before additional security forces responded.”

  “Casualties?”

  “No concrete numbers, but there are definite reports of fatalities and many wounded, including Melek.”

  “Why would he blame you?” Eirene asked.

  “I have no idea,” Gregorios said. “I’m hoping Alter can explain after he speaks with his father.”

  He was also hoping Alter didn’t decide to do the explaining with an automatic rifle. At the moment, he figured odds were about even either way.

  “We’re getting him a secure line now,” Zuri said.

  She wore a sagging, almost-seventy body with a bright orange sari that highlighted h
er ebony skin. Her mind seemed sharp, so her reluctance to transfer again might have been due more to political positioning than real fear of permanent soul fragmentation. Gregorios planned to give her time on the machines as soon as the current crisis was resolved. She was an important asset and one they couldn’t risk.

  She managed the organization’s diamond mines, and sometimes it seemed she wore half the exported product on her meaty arms. She loved jewels more than anyone Gregorios had ever known. Since the death of Meryem, she had also assumed management of the consignment team.

  He asked her, “What have you learned from Thailand?”

  Zuri frowned. “That’s the strangest thing. I couldn’t get through to the king.”

  “Probably died,” Bastien suggested.

  “Let’s hope not,” Gregorios said. “I want answers and I want retribution.”

  “You might have to make an example out of him,” Zuri said. “I’m getting nothing but stonewalled, and none too politely either.”

  “Back to Jerusalem,” Harald said. He was scanning something on his tablet. “I just received a report from an asset close to the compound that there is some evidence linking the attack to you.”

  Eirene said, “The hat man is another step ahead of us.”

  Gregorios frowned. “We should have seen that one.”

  Their mysterious enemy was really starting to irritate him. What he needed to figure out was why all the games, all the behind-the-scenes maneuvering?

  “It makes sense,” Francesca said from her seat at the other end of the table. “With that strike, they disable the hunter’s response teams, which must have been something they were worried about. Plus they alienate Alter and redirect Melek’s rage at us instead of the real target.”

  “Neatly done.” Bastien agreed.

  Eirene leaned forward in her seat. “This level of planning cannot be done overnight.”

  “No,” Gregorios said. “We’ve come late to the party. There’s obviously a larger scheme motivating the man in the wide-brimmed hat.”

  “You suggest we just got in the way, yes?” Bastien asked.

  “Perhaps.”

  That put them in an unusual position. The Suntara council had been pulling strings and manipulating the world powers for so long, they weren’t used to being excluded, to being nothing more than a hindrance to greater plans.

  Nothing the hat man might have in mind boded well for them or for the world order.

  “So the hunters are reeling and likely angry with us,” Gregorios summed up.

  “And Jerusalem is launching retaliatory strikes against the Palestinians, and threatening to strike anyone else they discover was involved in the attacks.”

  “Harald,” Gregorios said. “Initiate an effort to discredit whatever evidence is surfacing, and get specifics on what happened in the compound.”

  “Zuri, get through to the king and get some answers. If they keep stalling, we’ll initiate retaliation.”

  “Tomas, find out where your team’s at with hunting down those heka.” Gregorios paused, then added, “And check on Spartacus.”

  “Francesca, call up Yurak. I want everyone in position.”

  “Everyone?” She didn’t try to hide her surprise.

  “Everyone. I think this is going to get ugly and I don’t want to keep playing to the hat man’s tune. We’re going to flip this on him, and I want the family ready to respond. As soon as we have a target, we hit him hard.”

  As the rest of the committee disbanded, Gregorios turned to Eirene. “Get us a phone, love.”

  Chapter Thirty

  I am mortally opposed to the English King, and I will storm his castles and free by blood the lands he unjustly claims as his own. I don’t care why you want him defeated, for today your brotherhood was confirmed. I wear the symbols of my nation on my skin, and they grant strength and vitality beyond the realm of mortal men. Today I smote the stones of the bridge and rent them in twain. Let the English think the simple weight of numbers triggered the collapse. They will soon learn to fear my name and free my lands.

  ~William Wallace, September 11, 1297 after his victory at the Battle of Stirling Bridge

  “Is this line secure?” Melek asked.

  “I believe it is,” Alter said. He hated hearing such weakness in his father’s voice. “They went out of their way to ensure I got it.”

  “Don’t trust anything they tell you.”

  “What happened?” Alter asked. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” Melek said in a heavy tone. “I’m far from all right.”

  “How badly are you hurt?” Alter clenched his fists in futile rage. He believed this was the best place to be, that here he could do the most good. Working with the demons gave him the best chance to wreak awful vengeance upon those who hurt his family.

  “That doesn’t matter. I’ll heal. Some will not.”

  “How many?” He could barely get the words out.

  “Seven.”

  “How?” Those were his relatives. They were hunters! No one invaded their home, killed their family. It seemed impossible.

  “Twenty-six wounded,” Melek continued. “Your cousin Ezekiel left us only minutes ago.”

  Alter gripped the receiver so hard it creaked in his hand and he had to force himself to relax before snapping it in half. He needed to hear, but he hated every word. Rage and anguish burned through him so fiercely he could hardly breathe.

  “Why would they do this?” he asked.

  “Because we denied them,” Melek said.

  “What?”

  “The compound is badly damaged. They came with bombs and poison gas. The filthy kashaph trampled our home. They broke into the secure storage and desecrated our most valuable treasure.”

  Melek continued in a fierce whisper. “Son, they stole the book of runes.”

  “Oh, no.” He hadn’t thought anything could rattle him worse.

  “The very book the demons wanted us to hand over to them just days ago.”

  “Of course,” Alter said. “The enemy somehow learned that we sought to counter their forbidden rune so they--”

  “No, Son.” Melek cut him off harshly. “There’s no secret enemy, just the demons and their mind-twisting plots. They did this. They hurt our family while pretending to be friends, just as they’ve always done.”

  Alter wanted to believe it, wanted it with a fierce passion, but he couldn’t. He despised Gregorios, and if it were only that hated demon, he could believe his father despite the evidence to the contrary. But he couldn’t believe Eirene would have sanctioned the strike on his family. He knew her too well. He couldn’t hate her now that he knew the truth.

  “Father, I know you’re angry, but I don’t think--”

  “It was Gregorios, I know it,” Melek cut him off again. “I nearly died. As I lay bleeding and broken in the inner court, the kashaph could have killed me.”

  Alter wanted to tell his father to stop. He didn’t want to hear any more. His father had always been so strong, unstoppable. To think of him wounded and at the mercy of those animals filled Alter with a fury so deep he wanted to howl.

  “They didn’t,” Melek said softly. “They spared me only because they were commanded to do so.”

  “By who?”

  “John.”

  “The old facetaker?”

  “The very one. He who sits at Gregorios’ right hand.”

  “But John is missing. Don’t you see--”

  “No. They’ve blinded you, Alter. They’ve orchestrated this in such a way as to sow discord and doubt when we must be united and strong. We were wrong to trust anything the demons said to us.”

  “Give me some more time,” Alter said. “We can figure this out. I just need to track down a couple of things.”

  “There is no more time,” Melek said, his voice cold. “Your life is in danger there and your soul is at stake. Your mission has changed. You must kill Gregorios to avenge the family honor. Do this and return to me a
hero.”

  “But father--”

  “That’s an order.”

  Gregorios and Eirene sat in his office on either side of his desk, leaning over a special phone. Melek’s voice, distorted by the electronic encryption, spoke into the room.

  “Your mission has changed,” Melek said. “You must kill Gregorios to avenge the family honor. Do this and return to me a hero.”

  “But father--”

  “That’s an order.”

  The line went dead and Gregorios slowly clicked off the mike. This was going to be a problem. The man with the cursed hat had played all of them like fools. He leaned back in his executive chair and met Eirene’s serious expression for several seconds.

  “We need to solve this,” Eirene said.

  “Clearly. We can’t have that hothead running around trying to become a martyr.”

  “Don’t you dare kill him.”

  Gregorios spread his hands. “What do you want me to do? I have to defend myself.”

  “Don’t play games, Greg,” she snapped. “I care about that boy and I won’t have you killing him.”

  “Fine, I’ll be careful.” He wouldn’t admit it, but he really didn’t want to kill Alter. The kid was growing on him. Few hunters ever had. Of course, most of them were too busy insisting he kill them to give him a chance to get to know them first.

  He sighed. The situation was quickly spiraling out of control and he didn’t like feeling at the mercy of someone else.

  “This entire business is about to turn sour,” he predicted.

  Eirene took his hands in hers. She smiled, that fierce grin of battle lust that he so loved.

  “Oh, I’m starting to hope so.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Of course Darius lost the day. His cowardice will live for all time, but the frailty of his runes was laughable. I never even drew upon my own enhancements, and could have defeated him with nothing more than the natural strength of our arms.

  ~ Alexander the Great, 331 B.C., after defeating Darius III of Persia in the key Battle of Gaugamela.