by J. Thorn
“Oh, look, it’s the mighty Serpent King,” said one spirit from between the bars. His form floated as if he stood behind a wall of water. The Serpent King stopped and faced the voice. “Where is your little boy, the one you like to take in your mouth?” it asked.
The Serpent King wiped his head and glanced at Tepan’s back. The lord major did not seem to see the dead souls, or he did not care, as he kept walking through the chamber.
“Come to me,” the spirit said.
“I am not here to guide you. The laws of the universe hold you, ones you choose to violate.”
“Such sage advice coming from one such as yourself. As if you uphold those laws, hmm?”
“Be gone.”
“Or what? What physical threat does the Filthy Snake pose to the souls of the damned?”
The Serpent King hurried to catch up with Tepan. With each passing cell, another spirit called out to him, teased him, taunted him. When Tepan turned at the far end of the chamber, the Serpent King stood behind him, sweating and breathing hard.
“The air down here is stale and unhealthy. We should move to the secret quarters where we will meet the rest of the council of the coalition,” Tepan said as he placed a rusted key into the lock on the door.
***
Tepan and the Serpent King arrived first. A carved wooden table spread out before them, candles burning and dripping wax, a mug of ale in front of each place setting. A throne, elevated and at the head of the table, stood protected by the flags of Risenachen draped on the walls. Dusty, framed portraits of long-dead Eagle Knights hung from the seeping masonry, giving the Serpent King the appearance that the dead wept. He knew this to be true.
Other lord majors of the coalition entered the room, whispering like excited girls as they savored the eve of war. The men would not see combat unless it was through a spyglass at the rear of their regiment. Nevertheless, that would not stop them from getting intoxicated on thoughts of battle. A servant appeared from nowhere to fill a mug or replace a candle, and the Serpent King stood back to watch the men chatter and drink. He shifted his feet while scanning the room. As the lord majors entered, they maneuvered out of the personal sphere of the Serpent King. The smell of burning flesh tainted most of their recollections. After celebratory drinking and war stories, men took their chairs. The Serpent King did not recognize the ranks or tribes of the lord majors, but he had no difficulty in sensing their privilege. The most powerful commanders in the One World outside of the capital of the People of the Sun sat before him in one room. He thought of how easy it would be to dispose of them in that moment, but that would not serve his cause. As much as he struggled with it, he needed the men and those they commanded. He would rule over the One World, but would need to do so standing on the corpses of the lord majors.
“Welcome, supporters of the coalition. Tonatu!” said Tepan. The men around the table strangled all other conversation. “It is time to mobilize our forces. My aides tell me that we should march out of Risenachen prior to the next moon. Our signs align with the Light of the Lady, and the Star of the North remains fixed over our lands. I summoned you here to ensure that each member of the coalition knows our objectives. A multi-headed beast cannot afford to bite itself.”
The Serpent King sat at a chair to Tepan’s right. Lords seated nearby shot sideways glances in his direction, careful not to make direct eye contact with the Serpent King.
“Word has come back to us that Acatel’s forces failed. As best we can tell, he went beyond the Region of the Dead with his soldiers, dying with honor by the knife.”
Mugs clinked as men toasted the honorable passing into the underworld.
“The Serpent King and I have developed what we feel to be a victorious battle plan. He will share it with you now.”
Men shifted in their chairs and stole glances at each other. Lips opened but spoke no words.
“Great warriors of the coalition, I am honored to speak before you. You have proven yourselves on the field of battle. Generations of oppression by the tyrants have left you poised to deliver your reckoning. Therefore, I will not waste time with motivational words. We will march from Risenachen with every regiment at our disposal. Our simple plan requires all of you to comply. A renegade regiment or lord major will be labeled a tyrant, and will meet defeat.”
The Serpent King continued, “Our success lies in our ability to recruit other tribes and warriors on our march to the capital. As it stands now, our forces pose a considerable threat to Lord Major Machek and his elite Jaguar Knights. However, we have the ability to swell our ranks threefold. How can we recruit these isolated tribes, you ask? We invite them. We promise them the same spoils we anticipate. We promise them freedom from the tyranny of the People of the Sun and revenge for atrocities committed in the name of the Empire. Before you leave and put your orders in motion, familiarize yourselves with our chain of command. Lord Major Tepan, head of the glorious coalition, asked me to pledge my loyalty to the cause. I have done so without a second thought. He asked that I follow in his ways should something happen to him. Lord Majors, great warriors of the One World, we know that the lord major will see us to victory as we celebrate in the ashes of the capital. But know in your hearts that I will be ready to lead you if the Book of Horoscopes and the destiny of the gods take Tepan.”
The Serpent King sat down in his chair, glancing around the table in an attempt to gauge the response. A lord major opposite him started clapping. At first, his hands slammed together in a measured, rhythmic pulsing. Within moments, he stood, pounding his palms together. Other lord majors joined in, and soon the entire room shook with exaltations and approval of the simple plan shared by the Serpent King. He turned to Tepan just in time to see a look of utter despair slide from his face.
Chapter 47
The beggar dragged his left leg through the repulsive bustle of the city. Smelling of rancid waste and trash, he spat on people as they shoved him closer to the gutter. The beggar’s rags hung from his hunched back, and fringes of the tattered garments bounced off the pitted stone. Mothers pulled their children tight when he passed, while merchants and traders held up their sleeves to ward off the stench.
He entered the decaying tavern at midday, joining the other discarded souls in the darkened room.
“Would you like another mug?” the bartender asked Acatel. He would tolerate the grotesque presence of the beggar for his gold coins.
“Uh huh,” replied Acatel, doing his best to stay in character. The bartender filled his mug from the barrel and turned to serve more of the downtrodden.
“You drown yourself in the rags of the poor, but I can see past them. I can see your blackened heart. Your hatred embraces you like the arms of a woman.”
Acatel turned to see a curious man sitting on the stool next to him. He could not see the man’s face in the smoke and dank of the pub, but the dark cape and black battle armor caught his attention. He sat still, drawing deliberate, even sips from his mug.
“You know nothing,” Acatel replied.
“I know that your people will be disgraced when news of your defeat reaches their ears. Legends proclaim the Dog People the fiercest warriors in the One World.” The Serpent King shrugged his shoulders and moved his eyes from Acatel’s filthy feet to his tangled hair.
At the sound of his words, Acatel stiffened as if struck by lightning. His knuckles whitened and his grip on the mug tightened. “Hush yourself,” he said, grinding the words out one at a time.
“I think we should find a more private and suitable place to converse, don’t you?”
Acatel sneered at the Serpent King, baring his yellowed teeth. “Do you know who I am?”
“I know who you can be, Acatel,” replied the Serpent King.
Acatel got up from the bar and hobbled to a forgotten table in the darkest corner of the pub. Drunken men sprawled underneath it, and the Serpent King kicked them in the ribs, chasing them from the table. Acatel sat down, forgetting his beggar-man charade. The Se
rpent King glared at the men, sending them out the door and scrambling into the cobblestone street.
“Do not concern yourself with who I am or the source of my knowledge. We haven’t time for that. The coalition marches to Risenachen before the next moon. If you want to reestablish yourself as the true lord major, listen to me.”
Acatel motioned with his fingers for the Serpent King to continue.
“Murmurs amongst the lord majors of the coalition call Tepan a weak and indecisive leader. They yearn for the tenacity and ruthlessness of a military genius, one who has faced the tyrants and knows their strategy.”
The Serpent King paused, doing his best to gauge Acatel’s response. “I know how this can be done.”
“I’m listening.”
“I sat in Tepan’s headquarters. I know its configuration, how it is guarded, and how to get out. I can share this with you.”
“To what end?” Acatel asked.
“The lord major that usurps the current lord major of the coalition would be entitled to it.”
“No man plots risk without his take, stranger.” Acatel straightened his shoulders and pushed the mug away.
“You lead the coalition to destroy the Empire. Our numbers will swell as we march to the capital, our victory assured. When the war is over, you and I divide the conquered territories and rule the One World together. Men will worship at the feet of the Dog People.”
“You know the coalition will be very wary of any lord major looking to fill the power vacuum that will be left by the People of the Sun. What happens to the rest of the coalition?”
“They will become so embroiled in their lust for land that they will find it impossible to work together to honor the pledge. Tribes will consume each other over scraps of territory while we establish our reign.”
“Tepan? Do you think he will step aside and give command of the coalition to another?”
“He will not, which is why you will take it from him.”
“If I reveal myself as Lord Major Acatel, my warriors will turn in shame. I cannot lead a force that sees me as a coward, as one who ran from the War to the Knife like a frantic child.”
“I have a plan for that as well. You must trust me.”
“Because you recognized me and knew of the fate of my regiments? That is no basis for trust.”
“I can return Gishwan to you.”
Acatel froze when he heard her name. Visions of the woman floated in his head, lustful thoughts warming his groin. “Where is she?” he asked. His face flushed, and beads of sweat covered his forehead.
“Now we develop trust,” replied the Serpent King. “You have everything to gain in this bargain. I ask to share your throne. You will have conquered your foes and regained your woman while presiding over the One World. What more do you expect from this?”
“Is she in Risenachen?”
“Yes.”
“What must I do?”
“You will assassinate Lord Major Tepan in his headquarters. When this happens, I will become the new leader of the coalition. I will have the power to grant you regiments. The artists and writers of this city will craft a heroic tale for the ages. They will describe your brave battle with Lord Major Machek’s forces and your subsequent escape from him. The Dog People will rally with pride, as Lord Major Acatel is reborn and poised to lead his new regiments against the People of the Sun. However, even before that happens I will deliver Gishwan to your room. Judging from your dress and odor, women will not be throwing themselves at your feet. I think you will find her most accommodating and excited to be reunited. When we conquer and annihilate the Empire, you and I will divide the spoils while my moles set old tribal conflicts back into play.”
“How will you get me into the headquarters unnoticed? How can I find an escape route after the deed is done?”
“I will handle that.”
“I want insurance. I want collateral that safeguards my escape from the headquarters. It would be too easy for you to ‘arrange’ my arrest after I commit the murder.”
The Serpent King pushed a key towards Acatel. “Take this key and open the room above the bar. In it, you will find a lord major of the coalition bound and gagged. His torn tunic hangs in Tepan’s headquarters. After you kill Tepan, you will bring the knife back to this room and leave it on the table next to a suicide note. The lord major I have chained in that room will be so distraught after killing Tepan that he will take his own life, as well.”
Acatel grinned and nodded while taking the key from the table.
Chapter 48
The running creek had cut through the rock over generations, but now the late summer rains withered, dropping the water level to nothing more than a trickle. Swaying branches reached down towards the crawling current, hoping to siphon life-giving moisture, and birds circled high above while screeching at the blazing Sun God. Sianta sat in the middle of the creek on an island of rock. Machek stood to one side, looking down at the water coursing around his ankles, protected by the shade of overhanging trees. Sianta squinted up at him and beyond, enjoying the clear, warm breeze.
Machek unfolded a leather satchel, placing fresh fruit and dried meats on the rock before the young girl. He poured water from a flask into two mugs.
“You don’t have much time,” she said.
“How much?”
“The coalition marches before the next moon. I cannot see when they will arrive, but they will be a hungry force by then.”
“Can you see who leads them?”
“I have seen Tepan, Lord Major of the People of the Eagle, in my visions, but it feels wrong. I cannot say what troubles me about his leadership.”
“This might be one of our last sessions.”
“Yes, I understand that. I must share the rest of my visions with you now.”
Machek walked through the water and sat opposite the girl on the rock. Water rushed past them, playing its own natural melody.
“They call you the Redeemer,” Sianta said.
“Who?”
“My spirit guides. I think my mother sends them to talk with me, but I’m not sure. They say you have the power to correct the path of the People of the Sun. You can pull them from their destructive ways and put them back in harmony with the Earth Goddess.”
“I am a warrior, not a politician.”
“Do not doubt yourself, my lord. Many great leaders have left the battlefield to lead their people. Take my hands.”
Machek took her fragile hands in his, and Sianta closed her eyes, instructing him to do the same.
“Follow my breathing.”
In his mind’s eye, a vision swirled back and forth, coming into plain view. He floated over a battlefield as if riding the wings of a great bird. Smoke and the stench of death blew up from the scorched ground, and the sounds of clashing metal, screams, and the beating of war drums made Machek’s ears sting. Jaguar Knights engaged in hand-to-hand combat with other warriors; Machek surmised that they were recruits of the coalition. He flew towards the back of the enemy’s lines to a place where a handful of commanders, lord majors, sat upon black steeds. They surrounded one lord major in particular, whose battle armor captured light and did not release it. A dark cape flowed from his neck and over his back. Machek did not see his mouth moving, but heard his commands. Men rushed headlong into bloody swords for this lord major. Machek landed his birdlike body on the ground near the dark leader.
“You cannot defeat me, Machek,” said the lord major. He spoke with another commander and looked at the front with a spyglass, but he communicated with Machek, nonetheless. “Surrender your forces and save the lives of those who will perish here.”
“Are you the Dark One?”
“He lives in me. I live in him.”
Machek shook his head and rubbed his eyes.
“The Book of Horoscopes tells our story. Our destinies cannot be separated, but you have the power to align them. Lay down your forces and open the gates of the capital, and I will seat you at my right
hand. The power and the wealth of the entire One World can be in your grasp.”
“But they call me the Redeemer. I cannot forsake my people and my destiny.”
“Do you think the whore’s daughter can help you? Do you think that just because she calls you the Redeemer that you are?”
Machek shook his head again. The fighting of the men on the front line became more intense and came closer to the lord majors and their mounts.
Cipa stepped into view from the east. She wore a radiant white gown and stood before him as the beautiful bride he first laid eyes on long ago.
“Don’t forsake us, Machek. He knows best and has the power to reunite us. We can live as we did once, as a family.”
She walked towards Machek, standing before him as their eyes met. Machek felt a great inner peace take hold, the sounds of war and death fading into the mist as he embraced his wife. He felt her breasts against his chest and her pelvic bone pushing against his growing erection. Their lips met, and Cipa’s tongue slipped into his mouth.
“But not until you accept our destiny and surrender your city,” said the Serpent King.
A cold jolt raced through Machek’s veins. He opened his eyes and his heart almost stopped. He embraced a rotting corpse. The vision of Cipa was dressed in the white gown, but the resemblance ended there. Stringy, matted hair crawled with insects. Machek pulled back from the stinking mouth to allow maggots to fall from its lips. Gray, mottled skin clung to its bones as rancid water puddled on the ground. The corpse collapsed from its upright position and fell into a pile of pulsing, slimy skin. Machek screamed with all the power he could.
“I will make you pay for your abominations. I will not surrender to the Dark. Light surrounds me and will strike you down,” he said.
“I am giving you one last chance, Lord Major Machek, commander of the People of the Sun, the Redeemer. If you turn your back on me now, my minions will forever torture your wife.”
