by Alan Scott
Chapter Eleven
True Power
Two minutes to midnight in a ruined and abandoned village high in the Star Mountains
The thunder roared, the lightning flashed, and the rain pelted down as a figure limped down what would have been the main street. It was a good five minutes before the figure stopped at a burned out ruin of what had once been a large building.
Nature had started to reclaim its land and, as the figure walked through the gap where the main double doors had been, his incorporeal form slipped through vines, small saplings, and other flora which had taken shelter from the harsh climate in the protection of the walls of the once grand house.
“Home,” whispered Nathaniel West as he made his way to the centre of the building. “Home after all these years.” Looking round, he remembered where his bedroom had been, where his sister Mary's room had been. He turned his attention to an area where a wall and fireplace had been. He remembered a blazing fire and two people sitting in large wooden chairs next to it. “Mum. Dad.” His arm inadvertently began to rise up from his side, as if wanting to touch the ancient memories. “Fool,” he berated himself with a snarl and let the arm fall back to his side.
Nathaniel’s trademark mocking smile started to spread across his lips as he slowly turned full circle, for, as he turned, the ruined house started to become whole. The walls reappeared, the roof grew from the walls, the great fire roared into life. By the end of the movement, the house looked like it had when he left all those years ago.
“Impressive,” a male voice cut across Nathaniel’s thoughts.
“Thank you, Lord D’Edlup, Emperor of the Eternal Forest and lord of those across the sea.”
“It shall suffice.” This new voice grated across Nathaniel’s skull, causing even his ghostly form pain.
“Lord Holc, Emperor of the Eternal Desert and lord of those across the sand,” acknowledged West.
Taking three steps forward, Nathaniel turned to view his guests. “Do both of you accept the Rules of the Guest and the rules of this house?”
“Yes,” both replied.
“Then please sit.” Nathaniel indicated the chairs by the fire. Both entities did as they were bid.
Lord Holc turned to look at Nathaniel, whilst grasping the wooden armrest and slowly digging his claws into the furniture.
A look of pain flitted across Nathaniel’s face. “Lord Holc, you forget who I am and the rules to which you agreed.”
The flames in the eye sockets of Lord Holc blazed briefly. “I forget nothing, little person. I merely remind you of who I am,” said Holc before releasing his grasp.
“Gentlemen,” said Lord D’Edlup, “let us not forget why we are here.”
“The Midnight Man,” spat out Lord Holc.
“Yes, the Midnight Man,” agreed Lord D’Edlup. “He has deeply wounded us both and we must take appropriate action.”
“That he has. I have lost Dread Lord Skeal and his temple to that mad man.”
“And I have lost my right hand man, Jacob Pace.”
“Then why not simply destroy him?” interjected Nathaniel.
“Because, Master West,” sighed Lord D’Edlup, “to stop the Midnight Man, one of us would need to raise an army and deploy it unopposed on the continent of Talocants, and neither of us will allow that to happen for obvious reasons.”
“And a joint mission will never work,” added Lord Holc.
“I have heard that he is gaining support from within both of your ranks,” stated Nathaniel.
Both leaders remained silent, simply staring at Nathaniel.
“That’s what I thought,” answered Nathaniel, “hence, the reason you have both contacted me.”
“Do not think that this meeting is easy,” stated Lord D’Edlup.
“You have no idea the promises and pacts that have been made to enable these mere twenty short minutes to happen,” Lord Holc added.
“Then let us not waste time. Why me?” asked Nathaniel.
“That is simple, Master West,” said Lord D’Edlup. “My man, Jacob Pace, had already contacted you and persuaded you to leave the land of the dead and once again walk the land of the living.”
“Damn that bloody word.”
“What word?”
“Quotidian.”
“Why?”
“Damned if I know what it means.”
“Some of its meanings are: ordinary, common place, or drab.”
“Really!”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“What is this foolishness?” demanded Lord Holc. “We need you because of your links to the Midnight Man and the person known as Hubert Mancer.”
“Ah, Mancer.”
“Yes, Mancer and the group of anarchists he hangs around with,” sneered Lord D’Edlup.
“I had heard they were causing problems for the two of you regarding the souls of the departed.”
“They will be caught and punished,” Lord Holc's voice grated across Nathaniel’s brain.
Nathaniel shrugged. “It must really irk you that you need them.”
“We are very patient beings, Nathaniel. We can wait for a very long time,” said Lord Holc.
“That may have been true in the past, my lord, but times are changing. The Midnight Man creates chaos and plays by his own rules. The younger gods are rising. Do you really have all the time in the world?”
“Of course not,” dismissed Lord D’Edlup. “In time, everything dies and is replaced by something new. It’s how long you can last that is important. Anyway, let’s get back to Mancer, shall we, old friend?” Lord D’Edlup smiled warmly at Holc as he leaned back in his chair.
“Back to business, yes,” Lord Holc agreed, ignoring D’Edlup’s familiarity. “Nathaniel, for some unknown reason, the thing called Mancer is linked to the Midnight Man.”
“I know why,” stated Nathaniel as he made his way to a third chair, which had appeared between the two lords.
Both lords watched Nathaniel carefully as he sat down. Staring into the fire and rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Nathaniel quietly spoke. “Do you know what was the cause and what happened at the Battle of Bridgehead?”
“It was caused by two armies meeting, and it was a slaughter,” replied Lord Holc, dismissively.
“Correct on both accounts, but it’s the wrong answer,” said Nathaniel.
“It was caused by two enemy armies being in the same place at the same time, and because of that, an entire town was wiped out,” suggested Lord D’Edlup.
“No.” Nathaniel shook his head. “You are both wrong, The Battle of Bridgehead was caused by the death of one man - a single unimportant soldier.” Nathaniel gave a trademark smile and shook his head slowly from side to side. “The maelstrom of fire, smoke, and death was simply a funeral pyre for a single soldier, a banner-bearer.”
“What!” exclaimed Lord D’Edlup as he sat up in his chair and looked across at his arch-enemy. “Are you telling us the destruction of so many souls was just for a single unnamed man?”
“Not unnamed. His name was Ogre.”
“Surely you jest? Back then, the Midnight Man was not insane enough to do something like that,” said Lord Holc.
Nathaniel gave a hard laugh. “You are quite right, my Lord Holc. The Midnight Man would never have dreamed of doing something so vast and insane. No, the idea and madness came from someone else.”
“Mancer,” both entities said at the same time.
“Correct.”
“But why?” asked Lord D’Edlup.
Nathaniel's face hardened and his dark blue eyes burned with suppressed anger as he recalled the memories of that day. “Ogre was the Standard Bearer for the Third Lowland Regiment of the Kingdom of Zarekland. Also, he was one of the few friends Mancer had.
“Mancer would often joke that he would take the banner from Ogre's dead hands and become the new Standard Bearer. Ogre would laugh his simple child-like laugh, and ruffle Mancer’s hair and grin at him. I should poi
nt out at this stage that Ogre was a massive man, hence, his nickname. However, he was actually a very gentle and good-humoured person until he got into a fight. Once riled, he was a butcher, which was the reason he carried the Standard.
“It was at the beginning of the battle, just after I had lost control to the Midnight Man, that there was a skirmish between the fifth company, which was Mancer’s company, and the enemy.” Nathaniel rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. “Details are very sketchy, but from what I later managed to gather, Ogre was separated from the company and was killed.”
“So?” interrupted Lord Holc.
“He died hard, my Lord Holc.” Nathaniel turned his full attention to Lord Holc. “They shot him full of arrows. Both his arms were chopped off. His face was smashed in. However, it was not just a one-way fight. The enemy’s dead lay all about. Ogre took a great many with him to the grave. Mancer was the first to find him and the few surviving enemy soldiers.
“They said Mancer went berserk and killed the last few of the enemy before making his way to the corpse of Ogre. He apparently knelt down and whispered something into his ear before picking up the Standard and marching towards where I was fighting. I remember his marching straight up to me and speaking to the Midnight Man.”
“What did he say?” asked Lord D’Edlup.
“That is unimportant, my lord,” stated Nathaniel. “What is important is what happened next, The Midnight Man, Mancer, and the Third Lowland Regiment turned Bridgehead into a funeral pyre so large that the gods could not fail to take notice. Things were done, things that even now my memory does not allow me to remember fully. Soldiers, men, women, and even children were sacrificed upon that pyre.”
Nathaniel closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And in that cauldron of madness, we were forged anew and bound together by ties stronger than death.” Nathaniel opened his eyes. “Not just the Fifth Company, but the entire Third Lowland Regiment was forever bound to Mancer and, most important of all, Mancer is bound to me.”
“How is he bound to you, West,” demanded Lord Holc, “and not the Midnight Man?”
Nathaniel's dark blue eyes burned with power as he replied, “I am his captain and I am the Captain of the Fifth Company of the Third Lowland Regiment.” Nathaniel leaned forward towards Lord Holc and smiled. “But most important of all, Ogre was the Standard Bearer of my regiment, and in the last few terrible and most bloody hours of that battle, it was me leading the charge, not the Midnight Man.”
“What?” exclaimed Lord D’Edlup.
“You heard me, my lord,” snarled Nathaniel.
“So,” said Lord Holc, thoughtfully, “are you sure they will follow you and not that female they seem to be following now?”
Nathaniel gave a short harsh laugh. “Trust me, my lords, Mancer will follow me and the Third Lowland Regiment will follow Mancer. They are only with Jane Hughes because I want them to be.”
“Why?” asked Lord D’Edlup.
“I needed somewhere for them to be while they waited.”
“Waited for what?”
“Waited for me to return and take my place.”
Lord Holc snorted. “You were in a cave.”
“I was waiting,” said Nathaniel. “Soldiers are very good at waiting.”
“Waiting for what?” asked Lord Holc.
“For the right time to kill a monster.”
***
Fifteen minutes past midnight in a ruined and abandoned village high in the Star Mountains
The thunder still roared, the lightning still flashed, and the rain was even heavier as a figure walked down what would have been the main street, whining, “Fucking rain! Why does that tosser always have to like the fucking rain?”
Hubert Mancer, Standard Bearer of the Fifth Company of the Third Lowland Regiment wiped the rain from his eyes and peered through the torrential rain at the figure that was walking towards him. “Bastard,” muttered Mancer as he instinctively started to stand to attention.
Captain Nathaniel West of the Fifth Company of the Third Lowland Regiment stopped a few feet from Mancer. “It’s been awhile, Hubert.”
“It has been, sir. That’s what being fucking dead does, though - fucks up your time-keeping. Uh… sir.”
Nathaniel smiled and shook his head. “You never change.”
“Nope,” grinned Mancer.
“How’s the rest of the Company?”
“Fucking dead. Sir.”
Nathaniel stepped forward and hissed, “Don’t get fucking smart with me, Mancer.”
“No, Captain West. SIR!”
Stepping back, Nathaniel replied, “Good.”
“We seem to have guests, Captain,” said Mancer as his eyes darted from side to side at the approaching two men appearing out of the rain.
“Ah, yes, my guests,” said West. Looking Mancer in the eye, he asked, “Do you remember Bridgehead, Mancer?”
Mancer's head snapped forward and, meeting Nathaniel’s gaze, simply said, “Yes.”
“Good,” said Captain West. “There is a storm coming, Mancer, and it is destroying the land we promised to protect. There is nothing and no one that can stand before it. All the heroes that will try will die.”
“Fuck the heroes right up their rectum, sir,” said Mancer. “We have done our bit. We have died doing our bit. Let some other fucker take the...”
“Hubert Mancer, who are you?” roared Captain West.
Taken aback, Mancer hesitated.
“I said who are you?” repeated West.
“I am Hubert Mancer of the Fifth Company of the Third Lowland Regiment, SIR!” screamed back Mancer.
“What does the Third always do, Mancer?” asked West in a low cold voice.
“We fucking hold the line when no other fucker can, SIR!” responded Mancer.
“We hold the line, Mancer. No matter the cost, no matter the pain, no matter the sacrifice, we hold the line.”
“Why us, Captain?” asked Mancer, quietly.
“Because we are scum, Mancer. Because it’s our penitence for surviving Bridgehead.”
“There is very little time left,” said Lord D’Edlup as he neared.
“Then let’s do it,” said West.
“Do what?” asked Mancer.
“He does not know?” said Lord Holc.
“Fuck me!” declared Mancer, holding his head. “That fucking hurt!”
“It’s time to send you back, Mancer,” said Captain West.
“Back fucking where?” asked Mancer.
“Back to the living,” said Lord D’Edlup.
“What the fuck...” began Mancer as the two lords moved towards him, chanting. Falling to his knees, Mancer shouted out, “West, you are a complete and utter basta...” Then he was gone.
Nathaniel West looked at the spot where Mancer had been and asked, “Did you manage to do what I asked?”
Both lords nodded with an amused smile. Nathaniel laughed.
“It was a cruel request,” said Lord D’Edlup.
Nathaniel shrugged and said, “Well, the thirty minutes is nearly up and this truce will be over.”
“It is time to leave,” said Lord D’Edlup. With that, he opened a shadow-door and stepped through.
Nathaniel looked across to Lord Holc. “My lord?”
“Death always wins. Remember that, West.” With that, Lord Holc opened a shadow-door and vanished.
Left alone in the raging storm, Nathaniel looked around. A puzzled look crossed his face as he noticed one of the houses in the rundown and ruined street had suddenly become whole. Standing in the open doorway was a woman with her arms gently folded in front of her.
A look of shock appeared on Nathaniel's face as he slowly made his way to the woman. “Elizabeth,” he whispered.
“Hello, my beautiful beast,” replied Elizabeth.
Nathaniel stopped at the curb. “Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth smiled at her husband and held out her hand. “It’s not time yet, darling.”
/> “Then why?”
“Because I miss you, my beautiful beast.”
“I want to come home, Elizabeth,” Nathaniel half pleaded.
“No, you don’t, Nathaniel. I know you too well, my wonderful man.” Elizabeth smiled. “You are a fighter. You will never find true peace until the Midnight Man is dead.” Elizabeth unfolded her arms and placed them on the doorframe. “Most women would not understand that. Most women would think their love could tame the beast, but I am not most women, am I?”
“No, darling.” Nathaniel smiled through his tears.
“No, I am not. I never want to tame the beast within you. Come home to me, my beautiful man. When you have finished, I will be waiting for you.” With that, Elizabeth stepped back and closed the door. As the door closed, the house started to fade and then, finally, to vanish, leaving only a tangle of undergrowth and a few bricks.
Falling to his knees, Nathaniel let out a terrible, heart-stopping scream full of pain, loss, and loneliness, before whispering, “I will do what I have to do and then I shall come home to you. I promise you that, my darling.” Pushing himself upright, Nathaniel said, “I will come home to you, Elizabeth, my wonderful woman.”
The Epilogue
In Summary, My Friend
On the outskirts of the City of Idris
Reif Rothgal pulled on the reins of his horse and brought it to a halt. Turning to his best friend, Alex Weir, he said, “Within that city, our destiny awaits.”
“Are you sure, Reif?”
“Positive.” Reif turned to look at the city of Idris. “The world is a dark and dangerous place. The Midnight Man and his blasphemous Brethren rule vast areas of Talocants. The shapeshifter and the vampyre prey upon the helpless. It is time for that to change. It’s time to fight back. It’s time for a beacon of light and hope to shine out and show the righteous and pure the way home, and to sow fear into the hearts of the damned.”
