Chapter 43
Gadreel looked out over the vast numbers stretched beneath him near the western wall of the city. It was a stunning spectacle. Millions of angels had come to the city, arriving just as he dictated in his letters. Even so, the absolute success of the scheme surprised him. The number of affirmative replies was overwhelming, but he had not anticipated the crowd that gathered before him. He stood with Helel on the top of a flat-roofed building that towered a hundred cubits above the crowd. Helel was dressed in a robe that was as black as his hair. He purposely left off any of his choir armor, choosing only to drape his serpent around his neck. With a simple weave of air, Helel created an audio amplifier and addressed the assembled throng.
‘My friends and fellow arella, we gather here to usher in a new destiny. As you know, I have fought for your freedom, to the point of standing before the throne of the three Kings to ask for concessions on your behalf. They have been unwilling to budge on any of our requests, but today I say that we are going to send a much stronger message. As the most powerful creations in the universe, we deserve more than a life of servitude. I promise you, that I would rather die then let any of you be forced to spend eternity in the shackles of slavery. I do not ask anything of you except that you let me lead you to a better life; a life where you choose what you want to do. You deserve freedom and I will give it to you in abundance.’
A cheer rose up, scattered at first, but building until the chant of ‘He-lel, He-lel’ rolled across the gathering in a loud crescendo. He looked over to his left and knew he had never seen Helel happier in all of his life.
‘You certainly didn't disappoint, Gadreel. This is an incredible thing you accomplished. I have Azazel marching at the head of the eastern group, and the western group is under your control. I know you are up to the task. Do not let anything slow down your advance. I don't believe there will be much of an attempt to stop us, but we must be ready.’
What in the cosmos had he got himself into? He had ignored a dozen opportunities to simply walk away and abandon this plan. Why? Had he gone too far to turn back now? He believed, despite Helel’s assertions, that Quemel and Maleyan were destroyed for something much less dramatic, but what if he repented now? A part of him longed to have the most menial job in the Kingdom rather than continue in this role.
‘Gadreel? Tell me you are up to this task. Tell me you are not afraid?’
What did he say? Afraid? He was a lion of Aralim and feared nothing. A voice in his head told him that Helel was simply trying to manipulate him. He shook it off. Whether that was true or not, he would not be known throughout the ages as the coward that abandoned his post. He would not be like Azazel.
‘I am not afraid, Helel. I will lead this group to Mount Kol and face whatever consequences our actions lead to.’
Helel smiled broadly and Gadreel noticed something about the smile his old friend wore. That winning smile, that served as a magnet to anyone that met Helel, looked strangely dangerous. Helel appeared so at ease, so in control of himself, that it looked as if he were experiencing true joy. But his look was so at odds with what Gadreel felt that it seemed incomprehensible.
‘It is very important that both groups coordinate their advance, so that even if we are attacked, we will overwhelm them from both directions. I will oversee the march and send reinforcements wherever they are needed. Remember, Gadreel, if the Kings attack they will not be taking prisoners and will show no mercy, so we must respond likewise. Use all of the force that we have trained in and let us put an end to this today. This time tomorrow we will have established a rule of law based on true free will, where all are free to live as we choose.’
‘I understand, Helel.’
‘Good. Remember, when you see the beam of light in the sky, march and do not stop until we stand on the mount itself.’
Gadreel did not have to wait long for the signal. Soon after Helel departed, a glaring white beam of light shot skyward, and it was time. He signaled to a group of angels holding trumpets to sound the advance.
Instantly the massive group pressed ahead. Gadreel took his position near the western gate to direct the group through the choke-point, his first area of concern along the route. Even a small number of defenders might hold up the march here, and he wanted to get a contingent through before a defensive line was established. He called forward a squad of his best trained arella, and the moment they approached the gate, he led them through.
He expected that they would face some opposition here, but found none. The area around the western gate was deserted. Helel was right. No one in the city imagined a march would come on rest day, and they were all likely gathered in the center of the city on celebration plain.
Once his group breached the walls, he instructed the remainder to file through and then to fan in a line ten deep. Part of his company would advance along the ground, others would fly above to cover their progress from the sky. Everything was going smoothly.
Suddenly, a large flash of light appeared to the north, followed by the sound of a tremendous explosion. Something was happening. Gadreel didn’t hesitate a moment, but took off at top speed towards the north. He stayed low above the ground, flying agilely a few cubits above the level of the roofs and trees below him. He spotted smoke coming from the wreckage of a nearby building, situated on the western edge of the great arids. He landed near a group of angels kicking around in the rubble.
‘What happened here?’ he demanded. ‘Were you under attack?’
‘No, sir. Harzuk here was giving a little retribution to a choir mate of his that betrayed him.’
Gadreel turned to face the angel called Harzuk. Now that he realized this was not an attack, his anger was kindled. He grabbed the dark arella by the front of his robe and held him tight.
‘What is wrong with you!’ he screamed. ‘This is not how we will behave ourselves! We are here to liberate this city, not destroy it!’
‘Get your hands off of me,’ Harzuk answered. Gadreel saw the hatred in the other's eyes.
In the distance there were more explosions now. Gadreel shoved Harzuk away from him, and turned toward the sound. Another series of detonations sounded from both the north and the south.
‘Looks like I am not the only one wanting payback,’ Harzuk said.
‘Maybe they are fighting back,’ another member of the party said, a bit nervously.
Suddenly, immense fireballs landed nearby, lifting Gadreel and the others into the air before slamming them into the charred earth some distance away. ‘They are indeed fighting back,’ he thought.
He picked himself up and took cover behind a crumpled wall. To the north more fireballs were coming in their direction from a line of trees in the foothills of the alpine mountains.
‘Follow me,’ he yelled to the group. Gadreel spread his wings and flew towards the hills to the north. Thirty angels followed in his wake.
A large fireball flew past him in the opposite direction, close enough to touch. He darted left, then right, avoiding further volleys from the tree line ahead. Once he cleared the arids and was above the trees, he landed, taking advantage of the natural cover. This should be near the spot where the enemy was firing upon them. He crept slowly, squinting against the light for any sign of movement. Behind him, his companions crashed through the forest, making no effort at stealth.
What was he to do now? Why was his initial reaction always to jump right in without thinking? He should wait for the others. But as loud as they were, they would certainly not surprise their attackers. He decided to veer off to the left, hoping to flank the defender’s line. If he crept in behind them, perhaps he might stop them before anyone got hurt.
Something moved in the tree above of him. He crouched low and waited. The sound was coming in his direction. Now, he saw the branches move. He readied a power bolt to stun his opponent.
With a loud screech a familiar, winged form shot down toward him.
‘Shadow,’ he exclaimed in a barely audible tone.
‘No, Shadow, go away. Go home! Get out of here!’
But the griffin did not listen. She recognized her pair bond’s best friend and flew in his direction, landing beside him.
‘Shadow, you can’t be…’
‘Gadreel, is that you?’
Standing if front of him was Ariel.
‘It is you! Oh Gadreel, I am so glad to see you. Are you involved in this attack on our home? No, you can’t be. Tell me you’re not!’
Gadreel stood, looking at his friend, totally unsure of what to do.
‘Gadreel, tell me you are not part of this!’ Ariel said, tears gathering along the edges of those familiar eyes.
‘Yes, I am. We are here to put an end to the injustice that arella are forced to endure. We are going to have a home where we can live as we wish.’ Even as he said it, a surge of shame washed over him. Did he believe this? Had he ever really been unhappy under the rule of the Kings?
‘What is this nonsense you are spewing? That is not you speaking, that is Helel! Give up this insanity, Gadreel! Surely the Kings will have mercy upon you and take you back. Please; you are my best friend and I cannot stand to lose you to this stupidity!’
It would be a moment that Gadreel would replay in his mind for millennia to come. He would like to go with Ariel and walk off of this battlefield as friends. He wanted to have long talks with his best friend again, as they played bocket with no worry in the world. He longed for adventures with Ariel, being tailed by Shadow and Fang. He would give this up.
But a flash of light and two screams pulled him violently out of his fantasy and ushered him into a new reality where changing his mind was no longer an option.
The force of the explosion knocked him back, spinning him around and causing a loud ringing in his ears. The smells of smoke and burnt hair were coupled with a sick, sweet aroma that he didn’t recognize.
Gadreel shook his head to clear it and looked at the scene. Shadow lay limply on top of Ariel, neither of them moving. He rose from the dirt, and quickly ran to kneel down beside the two of them. Shadow was gone, her side crushed in a mass of blood and gore. Ariel, too, appeared dead, his face covered in blood. Gadreel tried to rouse his friend, but he lay pale and lifeless.
Anger rose inside of him. He turned to face Ariel’s attacker. Surely one of the imbeciles that followed him was responsible for this attack. He would make them pay.
But to his surprise, Helel stood there, watching intently. Unable to restrain himself, he burst into tears.
‘Helel, why did you kill Ariel? Why did you kill my friend?’
‘Gadreel, that hurt me as much as it did you. But your friend was part of the attack on our march. We came in protest, but they came in violence. I had to save you. I know how devastating this is and I am sorry for your loss, Gadreel, but we must move on.’
Gadreel lunged at Helel. He collided with an invisible wall. He pushed against it, straining to break through. He threw all of his energy against it, but was unable to decipher its composition. Helel stood watching his efforts with nonchalance.
‘He was trying to manipulate you, Gadreel. And if I didn't come, he may have succeeded. Do you think, now that we have blood on our hands, that the Kings will simply forgive and forget? Will they believe that you brought together this force with peaceful intentions? Our only chance now is to take by force what is rightfully ours, and take it by force today!’
‘But he was my friend,’ Gadreel said through thick sobs, as he buried his face in his hands, attempting to escape the image of Ariel lying dead, beneath the crushed body of his pair bond.
After that, things progressed in some sort of nightmare. Helel pulled him up and directed him toward the sound of distant explosions. They rejoined his main force. He mumbled a few orders, mainly by instinct, but was haunted by the image of his dead friend’s blank eyes.
It mattered little. Once the huge force got rolling, nothing was going to stop it. Helel's assumptions about the defenses proved accurate. The swarming army met minimal resistance, except for small bands of angels defending doomed pieces of the city. Any groups they met outside of the celebration plain were hopelessly outnumbered and easily overrun.
This began to change as they approached the central mountain, however, and Helel was in no mood to be stopped on the brink of victory, especially by his lieutenant’s sentimentality. The western group finally met stiff resistance as they neared the plain where hundreds of thousands of the city’s arella gathered. The defenders held the high ground that the army must capture if it hoped to reach Mount Kol.
Volley after volley pummeled the defending line, each landing with tremendous force, blowing apart trees and sending shock waves through the ground. Occasionally, the silhouette of an arella thrown violently through the air accompanied an explosion. Gadreel watched all of this through disinterested eyes, his mind trapped in the woods where Ariel and Shadow lay in a heap, dead. A voice boomed, directed at him, from somewhere in the distance. He looked and saw Helel, standing a cubit away, wearing an expression of sheer rage.
‘Gadreel! You said that you would take this group to the Mount no matter the consequences. Well, take them. Our force is advancing, except for your western group. Azazel is performing heroically compared with you. I will be forced to replace you with someone with enough courage for the task if you do not do something right away!’
Someone with enough courage? Did Helel think that he was shirking his task because of bravery? That was ridiculous. There wasn't a single moment in his life when he cared less about getting hurt or killed. In fact, death seemed favorable to the tremendous guilt that lay on him like a shroud.
‘You want me to do something, Helel? Then I will do something. But it is not for this damned cause of yours. I will do it because I can't stand the weight of what we have already done. I prefer death to the guilt I feel.’
‘I do not care what you use for motivation, Gadreel; just push forward. We are on the brink of victory and do not have a moment to spare.’
Gadreel resisted the temptation to attack Helel. His friend lay dead in the woods, and Helel wanted yet more destruction. But what good would that do? The damage was done. They did not deserve any mercy from the Kings. Their only hope now was for an overwhelming victory.
So, instead of attacking Helel, Gadreel took his fury out on those defending the celebration plain. He rushed forward with reckless abandon, followed, slowly at first, by bands of attackers from his group. He easily deflected all attacks. They were amateurs. He showed them war. A group on the left was positioned in a patch of woods on a small ridge. An ionic reversal caused the hill to explode, its occupants cast aside like driftwood. A squad on to his right tried to attack, but an intense cyclonic wind shredded their line to bits.
And still he went forward, occasionally flying above to rain down havoc upon the defending lines. In the wake of his fury, the western flank surged, raining down terror on the overwhelmed defenders and capturing legions of prisoners who lost their taste for battle.
The fight raged in an ever-shrinking circle, surrounding the central mountain on the distant side of celebration plain.
Shouts of ‘victory’ and ‘the Kings have abandoned you’ rang out. Was it true? Gadreel expected to be destroyed with every moment, by a bolt from Mount Kol, but on they pressed without reply from the throne of the Kings.
As he emerged from the woods and looked out on the plain where he had come weekly for more then seven years, the sheer scale of their attack became visible. On all sides the massive group pressed in. But the plain little resembled that place that was reserved for their celebrations. It was pockmarked with massive craters and great numbers of the injured lay scattered about, lying in the open with no protection from the tumult of energy that was raining in their midst. He realized with shock that they were on the brink of victory.
Perhaps Helel was correct in his assumption that the Kings were incapable of destroying their creations, no matter the consequences. Was it
possible that the countless hours of training in their secret meetings gave them such an advantage that victory could be achieved so easily? It seemed so. However, this brought no joy to Gadreel. He had been comforted by the fact that he would soon meet his end and this would relieve him of the tremendous guilt that had overwhelmed him at Ariel’s death. Now, with victory seemingly at hand, he faced the real possibility of living with these consequences for eternity.
Tail of the Dragon Page 44
