Do the Gods Give Us Hope?

by Jeff Henrikson

  The Queen Mother turned her head to look at Shane, who stood directly behind her. Shane put his right hand on her shoulder as if to offer comfort, and the Queen reached up instinctively and took the offered hand. “Both opinions are valid. We do not want the army to fall into a trap. It would be a shame if anything happened to our fine soldiers, as that would leave Armena open to an onslaught by our enemies. That being said though, I think Shane is right. We are dealing the Krone a savage blow. How can we not take advantage of this opportunity?”

  Why do the gods hate me? Jalid knew he wasn’t cut out for making these kinds of decisions. Why me? Why does it have to be me? Because I am the son of the King – what a stupid rule. Why can’t mother sit on the throne? She is older, and she has seen father make decisions for over a hundred years. Or better yet, why couldn’t Shane sit on the throne? He was always telling Jalid how a king should act, and he always offered good counsel.

  Holidor spoke up again. “I implore you, your Majesty. Do not advance the army any further. Allow our scouts to do their work. The city we have held for a moon’s turn is in constant rebellion and the one we recently captured is not yet pacified. We need time.”

  Shane spoke up immediately. “You didn’t inform me of this. Why are there any Krone left in the two cities we have taken?”

  The officer to Holidor’s left was flabbergasted. “What are you suggesting, Lord Shane? That we eliminate every Krone in the two cities? The old, the women, and the children?”

  “That is exactly what I’m suggesting, Captain. The Krone live in a matriarchal society. The children will grow up to be adults who carry on the fight, and the old will carry the tale of our victory, inspiring their next generation to seek vengeance. Better to get rid of them all.”

  “Murder them all, you mean.”

  King Jalid spoke up with certainty for the first time since he took the throne. “Yes, murder them all. They killed my father in a sneak attack, with an assassin’s blade. They are without honor and deserve to die.” He looked Holidor in the eye and said, “Kill them all.”

  “It will be difficult to convince the army to commit wholesale genocide. This has never been done in the history of Armena, or the Old Elf Empire for that matter.”

  Jalid raised his arm and menacingly pointed right at Holdior’s chest. “You do it, or you find your replacement.” He spoke loudly and forcefully, but it sounded to everyone in the throne room like a petulant child telling his parents he was not going to eat his dinner. “I am going to end this millennia-old conflict by wiping out our mortal enemy. No one kills the King of Armena and lives to tell about it. General, I order you to kill any worshiper of Evona you find.”

  Holidor quickly changed the subject. “And what of the army’s advance into the Underworld? We need a decision.”

  Jalid rubbed his chin in thought. He couldn’t afford to be thought of as weak. A king must act boldly. He would do the impossible and make his father proud.

  “We will take one more city and then we will slow down. You are ordered to capture one more Krone city in the Underworld, whatever the cost. After you take the city you are commanded to kill everyone in it, as well as the two cities we have already taken.”

  Holidor looked around the throne room as if seeking support. Not finding anyone to stand up with him against the King, he and his subordinates bowed their heads and walked out of the room. Jalid called an end to petitions for the day. After most of the court left the room, Shane came up behind his mother and put both hands on her shoulders in a very loving way. Jalid immediately found this distasteful and looked the other way, pretending to think about something else.

  Shane said, “That was well done, your Majesty. You continue to show more and more promise with each passing day. It is not easy to be King during times of war, but you have answered the call with poise and strength. Your father would be proud.”

  His mother chimed in as well. “Yes, my son. Invictus will reward you for the bold decisions you made this day.”

  Jalid sat on the throne, thinking. I wish Devin were here to make these decisions.

  Chapter 82: Lead the Charge

  Death to the Krone; only then may the joy of life begin anew. Venal sat alone in his private chambers repeating his mantra over and over again to himself. For six thousand years, he had fought the Krone with all that he was, and now, finally, at the end, his patience and meticulous planning were paying off. Events had finally turned in his favor. For all of those millennia, he had done his level best to stem the tide of the evil ones, led by Evona herself. But he was only a demi-god – made immortal by the friendship of Martel, with the permission of Invictus, and by the hand of Nu himself. He was the only elven god to have once been mortal.

  Venal pulled out his mystical bow, Black Vengeance, along with his dagger and longsword. He oiled the weapons and sharpened the steel. The war was finally under way. With Invictus leading the charge, with the entire elven pantheon behind him, the surface elves of Armena were crushing the Krone. He was committing everything to this one purpose. His worshippers had led the charge into the Underworld after defeating the Krone on the surface. Invictus had always maintained a policy of appeasing the Krone, feeling that they were misguided, hoping one day that they would return to his pantheon. Now the gloves were off. Evona had killed the King of Armena and brought the Krone to the surface, forcing Invictus’s hand. Venal had killed the Matron Mother of each of the six major Krone cities in the Underworld, forcing them to declare war against the surface elves. No one but Martel knew of his involvement in starting the conflict, and Martel would never say anything.

  And they were winning. The well-trained Army of Armena, led by the worshippers of Venal, with the weight of Invictus behind them, was an unstoppable force. They crushed the Krone when they appeared on the surface and followed them into the Underworld, taking the fight to the Krone by capturing the cities of Ooltul and Infern’s End. Venal sat alone in complete silence, his divine concentration split in many directions. He answered the prayers of hundreds of followers simultaneously. He aided his worshippers as they skirmished against the Krone – a little luck here, increased dexterity to dodge a blow there, a little extra strength in a critical swing to cut through leather armor. He did what he could, knowing Evona was working as hard as she could to oppose him. He channeled some power to strengthen the limbs of a follower as he grabbed onto a raft and launched himself into the air, decapitating a follower of Seker where he stood.

  There was a knock at his bedchamber door. “Enter.”

  Sheval, General of his Black Legion, opened the door confidently and said, “It is nearly time, my Lord.”

  “Very well.”

  Venal put his weapons away and walked out into his throne room. He stepped past his black throne and across the marble floor tiled with alternating black and gray. He stopped in the middle of the vast hall and waited. Sheval bowed his head out of respect as he walked past his lord over to the door. Sheval opened the heavy wooden doors and stepped outside. He returned in a few moments with two wood elves and a human that Venal recently claimed from Seker in Purgatory. Venal was an elven god, but as the lead god opposing the Krone, he attracted worshippers from all over Tellus. The Krone had made enemies of nearly every race over the millennia. As word spread of the war between Armena and the Krone, creatures flocked from all over to do battle with the Krone. As the war progressed and their victories mounted, more followers were worshipping his name and flocking to his banner than ever before.

  Sheval marched the worshipers over to Venal and went down on one knee. The new arrivals behind him looked at each other and then at Sheval. After a moment of confusion, all three went down on one knee, mirroring Sheval’s example of reverence before their god. Venal was dressed in all black, just as he always appeared to his followers on Tellus.

  Venal let the moment linger and then said, “Do not be afraid, my children. You are safe in the kingdom of your god.” Each of the followers lowered his head even mor
e toward the ground as he realized with certainty who was in front of him. “You have all lived lives worthy of a place in my kingdom. I went to Purgatory to collect each of your souls from the God of the Dead. You have each been through the void and examined your own worthiness. Each of you are ready to take your place at my side. Together, we will continue the fight against the Krone.”

  Venal raised his voice in ceremony, reciting the words known to all who worshipped his name. “Whom do you serve?”

  Sheval and the three followers responded with one voice. “We serve the Black Vengeance.”

  “Death to the Krone.”

  “Only then may the joy of life begin anew.”

  Venal changed to a more conversational tone. “Rise, my children.”

  While his followers slowly stood, Venal turned to the left and walked leisurely around his expansive throne room. Along the two walls that flanked his throne were legendary weapons used against the Krone and paintings created by the greatest artisans to ever follow his banner. The canvases all depicted great victories that he had orchestrated over the Krone during the last six thousand years. He let his worshipers stand at attention, reminding them who was the master and who was the servant, while he ran his right hand along the frame of the painting depicting his first victory over the Krone after the dark ones wiped out his family and village. Who could forget that great moment? That was the battle that set the tone for his entire career, eventually winning him a place in the heavens.

  He finally turned to his followers and said, “We are all fortunate to exist at this moment. For our time has come. Together, we are crushing the Krone! Together, we can kill them all. We have taken two of their cities, but there are four more to overcome.” He walked back and stood in front of his followers. “I want each of you to tell me how you died. What were your orders? What are your leaders thinking?”

  No one spoke at first. Venal let the silence linger as long as he could stand. He loved his subjects, but they were tedious at times. The three followers just looked at each other, too scared to speak.

  Venal’s benevolence reached its limit. “Speak! Now. Or go back to Purgatory where I found you.”

  The elf on the left looked up at Venal’s throne, not daring to look his god in the face. “My Lord, the war goes well, just as you say. We have taken two Krone cities. We have them on the run.”

  “This is old news. What else?”

  “Y-yes, my Lord. Over the last few days word came down that we are to take another Krone city. I was killed in the Underworld at the foot of Gehenna. We were laying siege outside the city walls when a Krone arrow took me in the chest. I regret that I did not serve you better.”

  “It is unfortunate that you can no longer fight my war on Tellus, but you served my will and fulfilled your duty.”

  “Thank you, my Lord.”

  Venal turned his attention to the human in the middle and said, “Timothy, tell me what you know of the war effort? How did you die?”

  The human named Timothy actually found the courage to look at Venal as he spoke. An admirable quality. “Hail Black Vengeance! I bring you good news, my Lord! The crowned King of Armena has sent word that we are to take no Krone prisoners. Not only that, but our forces have been ordered to obliterate the two cities we have taken.”

  “That is indeed glorious news.”

  “Thank you, my Lord.”

  “Tell me how you died in service to my cause?”

  “We received orders to kill any Krone inside or around the city of Infern’s End.”

  Venal smiled broadly. “Excellent. Give me the details.”

  “We surrounded the city and set it ablaze. Anyone who escaped the fire, we cut down as they ran away.”

  “Go on.”

  Having faced the void after his death, Timothy had made his peace with his mortal past. Therefore, when he spoke next, he did not grow quiet, look down at his shoes, or apologize. “A young Krone woman and her two children managed to escape the fire and were running into the woods. A fellow soldier and I saw them just before they entered the woods of the Underworld and gave chase. We caught them easily enough and slaughtered the two children. My companion and I took a liking to the young woman. I threw her to the ground and was having my way when a larger band of Krone took us by surprise and slit our throats. I regret that I didn’t serve you better, my Lord.”

  Venal looked at Timothy sternly. He let the moment hang for a long time. Timothy eventually averted his eyes and looked down at the ground, unable to bear his god’s rebuke.

  “You served me faithfully for many years only to have your last act on Tellus be so reprehensible.” He reached out with his right hand and slapped Timothy across the face. “You let the Krone get away! You let your concentration lapse. Not only did you die before your time, but you let a number of Krone get away. How dare you!” Venal lowered his voice as a teacher would while instructing a student. “What is our mantra?”

  “Death to the Krone; only then may the joy of life begin anew.”

  “Exactly. It means that all Krone deserve to die above all else. You took joy in the moment instead of killing that which did not deserve to live.”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  “I want you to meditate long and hard on your failure. You will have the chance to make up for your failure in my kingdom.”

  “Thank you, my Lord.”

  Venal stared at Timothy until long after the moment became uncomfortable. Then he turned to the second elf and said, “What news do you bring to my kingdom, my child? Tell me how you died?”

  The elf lifted his head proudly and said, “I was a scout sent ahead of the main body of the army to see and understand what lay ahead. I was scouting the fourth and fifth Krone cities. The cities are massing two large armies in order to meet us on the battlefield. I was taken unaware by one of their scouts. He approached me from behind under a shroud of darkness and put an arrow through my back.”

  “That is an honorable death. One without shame.”

  “Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord. If I may be allowed to continue?” Venal nodded his head. “The Krone have not lost their spirit. The two armies I saw were towering in size. Each of them larger than the individual armies we have at each of the cities we have taken.”

  “This is very valuable news. I will pass this along to my followers in the Underworld. Do not forget that the Krone’s power stems from Evona and that Evona’s power stems from her Krone worshipers. With each Krone we kill, Evona grows weaker. Even now I can feel her dying. We have killed every Krone in two of their six cities and we are about to take a third. Evona is getting desperate. Our power grows as we win more victories, while her power wanes with each defeat.

  “Thank you all for your testimonies. Once again, welcome to my kingdom. Together we will accomplish great deeds against our hated enemy.”

  Venal walked over to his throne and climbed the five steps up to his dais. With practiced poise, he turned with a flare and sat down on the black iron throne. Sheval and the three followers stood still waiting.

  Venal let the moment hang in the air before he said, “Death to the Krone.”

  “Only then may the joy of life begin anew.”

  Venal hardened his resolve. He amplified his voice so that it carried out of his great hall to the four corners of his kingdom. “Death to the Krone!”

  All the followers of his kingdom responded in one voice. “Only then may the joy of life begin anew.”

  “Then attend to your duties and destroy the Krone with pride!”

  Sheval and the three followers looked as though they could take on Evona all by themselves as they turned around with military precision and left his hall.

  Now was his time. He gained in strength with each passing day as new followers, elf and non-elf alike, joined his cause against the Krone. Evona would die. Her essence would be spread throughout the cosmos and forgotten.

  Chapter 83: Gram Returns

  Gram walked steadily down the wind
ing staircase leading to the fourth level of Talon Guild Headquarters. He walked with a bit more humility than he had only a few days before. The guards at the top of the staircase had recognized him, of course, and let him pass without incident. Everyone in the Talon Guild feared him, and rightfully so. He was the wizard Gram. Unbeatable. Undeniable. Or so he had always believed.

  The Guildmaster lived on the fourth level of the vast underground complex, surrounded by an opulence that befit a man of his accomplishments. His luxurious lifestyle combined with his unquestioned power and control of everything around him was the envy of every mortal. Every mortal, that is, except Gram. He never saw the point of wealth. All it did was make you soft, and Gram had too much to do to spend time on the simple pleasures. Power was something altogether different. Gram certainly coveted the Guildmaster’s power and was always looking to increase his allotment in that regard.

  However, the last few days had brought him humility. The Guildmaster had been forced to expend precious resources rescuing him from the Plane of Chaos, just as he had been forced to do in order to rescue Gaston. Now Gaston was dead, leaving Gram to wonder if he would soon be next. Until recently, he had never doubted his destiny and his role in history. In his time, he had defeated three Sorcerer archwizards sent to assassinate him, killed a family of hill giants to prove his worth to his master, defeated the Lich Zeen in the crypts beneath Locus, and crushed the white dragon Chalcedony on top of the Long Drop Mountains, to name a few. He was doing important work – particularly with regard to the Cataclysm spell. Of course, Gram knew he still did not have enough magic-users to completely obliterate Armena, but at least he had ordered the First Heir and all of his magic-user prisoners to be taken into the Underworld a full day before the destruction of his fortress.

  Damn those elves. What had happened to him was almost comical once you accepted the absurdity of it all. His day had started out well enough when he tortured Xander into giving him the location of the gem, but then it had very quickly gone to the Plane of Chaos. In the space of a day Gram had been lied to regarding the whereabouts of the gem, attacked by an elf he had previously killed, been forced to flee indignantly from the dungeon for his life, been beaten in battle for the first time ever by an ancient green dragon, his fortress destroyed by a portal he had failed to control, and sucked into the portal and left for dead. Not to mention the fact that two magic-users had slipped through his fingers, and he had probably lost Arun. All in all, Gram had to admit that that particular day had gone poorly.