Michael took a deep breath as he paced back and forth in front of the Death Angel. The prudent thing would be to wait for Alan and Raphael. Despite his past dealings with Raphael, Michael knew if Raphael was able to somehow reclaim his power, their chances of success would double. Still, there was no time.
“You know what must be done,” Seraphim said with menace in her voice. “Gabriel must be stopped. If what Ardat said is true—and that is a big ‘if’—then Gabriel has Kyle and we must strike now.”
“I agree,” Michael said. “Despite all her short comings, Ardat wouldn’t lie about this.”
Seraphim barked a rough laugh. “Please, Michael, the woman left you unconscious in the hands of a stranger. Don’t tell me you still belie—”
“Ardat and my feelings for her are a moot point. This has nothing to do with her now. And she is paying for her actions. She won’t be accompanying us when we leave.” Michael could only imagine what thoughts were going on behind Seraphim’s raised eyebrow, but he ignored asking the question. “Alright, with your Death Angels and myself all attacking Gabriel, we should be able to overwhelm him. Esther and the bulk of our army will deal with any forces or surprises Gabriel may have for us.”
“Direct,” Seraphim said flexing her arms, “I like it. When do we leave?”
“Tonight. Esther’s unit is still arriving from the battle with Sodom. They are weak and wounded, however she and those still able to fight will accompany us.”
“Sodom,” Seraphim spat the words in disgust. “A coward taking advantage of the moment. He only has an army because of the changes Gabriel made to our plane of existence. The Fallen are afraid and running to what they perceive is the strongest clan.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Michael said.
Before any more words could pass between the two, the door to the study opened ushering in Esther and Danielle. Esther was healed thanks to Danielle’s insistence that she be treated yet the aftermath of the fierce battle still showed in her eyes. Danielle walked in right behind her stopping midstride. “Oh, we should have knocked, shouldn’t we have?”
“No,” Michael said ushering them forward, “Please come in. I was just informing Seraphim we will leave tonight. Her Death Angels, along with the bulk of our army, should be more than sufficient to deal with Gabriel. We’ll strike tomorrow night and end this little insurrection.”
“What about Alan?” Danielle blurted out as if all the words were one. Her voice echoed in the room. All eyes turned to her with questioning looks. Michael couldn’t help but notice a glimmer of disdain in Seraphim’s eye.
“What about him?” Seraphim asked folding her arms across her chest.
“Uh—I mean,” Danielle’s face turned red as she struggled to find the right words, “Shouldn’t we wait for him. To make sure he and Raphael are okay and succeeded in getting back Raphael’s power?”
“We can’t wait,” Michael said. The look of worry washing over Danielle’s face and the twitch of Seraphim’s lips made him add, “I’m sure Alan will be fine. He’s proven himself on many occasions. And, despite my own personal views of the man, Raphael is a seasoned delegate. I’m sure even now they are being welcomed into the home of the minotaurs with celebration and friendship.”
Chapter 19
Alan’s face rubbed against the harsh canvas cloth serving as his blindfold. The air inside the bag was not only thin; it was hot. His wrists ground against the rough rope used to secure his hands behind his back. True to his word, Cratos was taking them to the minotaur city deep within the mountain. The only condition was that both Alan and Raphael had to agree to be bound and wear a bag over their head.
At first, Alan had thought Cratos was joking. Ropes like these were useless against any supernatural creature much less the Horseman of War. It wasn’t until they placed the bag over his head and began to walk that Alan realized the bonds weren’t meant to hold him. They were a test to see whether he would respect the minotaurs’ rules.
Alan’s hands were bound and face masked just outside the cloudbank. It was awkward being prodded from behind and led up to what Alan guessed was the same twisting path on the side of the mountain.
Now all that was left was to follow the prodding of the minotaurs into the city. The only problem was their hike; it seemed the walking would never end. Sometime around what Alan figured to be the third hour into their journey, he couldn’t resist speaking. Sweat was pouring well past his forehead into his eyes and down his nose and mouth.
Thirst was second only to the feeling of suffocating as Alan compelled himself over and over again not to break the rope holding his hands in place to free himself from the torture. “How much longer do we have to the city?”
There was no answer. All Alan could hear beyond his labored was the rhythmic stepping of hooved feet on the stone path. “Hey, Cratos, can you hear me?”
Still nothing.
Frustration at the entire situation began to build in Alan. Another rough push against his back sent a wave of anger through him. How ridiculous was this? They were in a fight against the clock to save Kassidy. Alan—who could not only break his bonds, but was pretty sure could match the minotaurs guarding him for strength—was instead reduced to a blind prisoner.
“Peace, Alan.”
The muffled voice was hard to hear; nonetheless Alan knew it was Raphael. The Archangel must have been walking somewhere nearby for Alan to make out his words with the cloth covering their faces. The painful journey continued. How long, Alan had no idea. By the time they finally began to slow, the sun was setting and a cold chill teased the air.
Along with the drop in temperature, came shouts as Alan and his group was challenged by muffled voices. Although Alan couldn’t make out the question, he could hear Cratos reply, “Open the gates.”
A loud grating noise filled the air and made Alan’s eardrums tingle with the deep sound. The ground trembled beneath his feet as he was prodded forward yet again. Finally, the bag was removed from Alan’s head. The feeling of fresh mountain air was nothing like Alan had ever experienced before. A cold breeze caressed his face and tempered the hot sweat running down his brow.
Alan blinked several times to make sure what he was seeing was not his imagination. They were in a gigantic tunnel spanning the length of a city block. Behind them, the grating noise came again. Alan turned in time to see two large doors shut close and remove any sign of the outside world. Ahead of them, where the tunnel ended, the sun’s last rays gave off a faint golden hue.
“If we remove the bonds on your hands,” Cratos said looking at both Raphael and Alan, “will you give me word that you will not be stupid?”
Raphael nodded. Alan had to say something, “Seriously? I didn’t take off that bag from over my head this entire trip. I think that more than proves my trustworthiness. That thing smelled like a mixture of manure and rotten vegetables.”
To his surprise, Cratos began to chuckle. Through his massive throat, the noise came across like the beating of a large drum. The leader of the minotaurs advanced on Alan while brandishing a knife. In the wink of an eye, he sliced through Alan’s bonds and moved to do the same to Raphael, “You are not too far from the truth with your theory, little brother.”
Alan glared at Cratos as the other minotaurs also began to chuckle.
“Easy,” Raphael said as he sided next to Alan and the group resumed their journey down the tunnel.
“I’m fine,” Alan said rubbing his wrists, “You don’t have to keep reminding me to calm down.”
Raphael wiped his damp forehead with the sleeve of his right forearm. “Forgive me, but those in the past who have been chosen as the Horseman of War were not known for their reasonable disposition.”
Alan conceded the point as their feet ate up yards of the rough stone floor. As they drew closer to the exit, realization of where they were hit Alan like a thunderbolt. The tunnel they walked through wasn’t a tunnel at all. It was the inside of the mountain. Alan tried to imagi
ne the years and labor it would have taken to bore a whole through a stone mountain. When Alan saw where the tunnel ended, his mind fought to understand what his eyes saw.
The inside of the mountain wasn’t solid in the least bit. The entire middle section of the mountain had been removed like the inside of a pumpkin. Miles of open land spread out when the tunnel ended. A large city rested inside the hollowed-out mountain. What was more, the roof of the mountain was open to the stars and moon.
“Close your mouth, little brother,” Cratos said from beside Alan.
Alan didn’t realize his jaw was open. Closing his mouth, he licked his lips. His eyes were on overdrive as they raced around the city and inside of the mountain. “You should count yourself lucky; only a select few humans have ever seen our city and lived to speak of it. Shangar, the city within the mountain, is a beautiful, yes?” the minotaur asked.
“Yes,” Alan agreed, “How—how can we see the sky? I saw this mountain as we flew towards it. It had a peak.”
Cratos motioned with a large hairy arm to a path winding down the inside of the mountain and connecting the tunnel to the city beyond. As they moved forward, Cratos explained, “Creating an image of a mountain peak for all to see while there is none, is the single greatest act any of our sorcerers has accomplished . A spell keeps our secret.” Cratos turned his head and gave Alan a piercing stare, “And if the Queen deems it fit you should leave in one piece, you will know our secret.”
The threat was evident. Alan refused to let intimidation get in the way of reason, still he understood what a risk he was taking and likewise the minotaurs were taking on him.
The rest of the journey was spent in silence. Alan busied himself with soaking in the myriad of sites his eyes saw and his mind tried to understand. The minotaur city was as wide as it was long. Large, single-story buildings made out of what appeared to be hard clay and stones seemed to be the main architecture of the minotaurs.
minotaurs walked and ran down the wide streets busy on their way. Each time Alan and his company were spotted, they were greeted with huffs and large, wondering eyes. Every minotaur with whom Alan made eye contact stopped anything they were doing to stare. Whether they were walking idly by or rushing to be about their day, they stopped in awe of the human guests entering their city.
“Do not stray, little brother,” Cratos teased Alan. “It has been an age since minotaurs have seen humans or angels walk in their city. The only reason you still breathe is because we are your escorts.”
Alan let the words from Cratos slide as he continued to rotate his head taking in the alien sites. It wasn’t long before the group made their way through the city and to a gigantic building Alan supposed was the Queen’s palace. It towered in the air with sharp, pointed peaks. The building was even larger and taller than the Temple of Artemis and the Statue of Zeus combined. minotaurs fitted with dark, metallic armor and long spears patrolled the area around the palace in pairs.
Alan and his group were stopped outside the palace walls by a group of sentries that eyed Alan up and down with intrigue. More words were exchanged between Cratos and the leader of the sentries. The conversation sounded like a mixture of guttural words and chomping teeth to Alan.
Soon they were allowed entrance. Wide, steel gates swung open to a courtyard teeming with wild flowers and exotic plants. The smell of pollen and nectar drifted through the air making Alan forget his dire situation for just a moment.
“You two will stay here,” Cratos said. Without further explanation, Cratos left Alan and Raphael under the guard of his men as he walked through the courtyard and entered the palace.
“When we enter the palace,” Raphael whispered, “you must do as I do. Follow my lead and do not be the first to speak. As queen she has reserved that right.”
“Got it,” Alan said. “What are the odds this plan is going to work?”
“If we can make the minotaurs see this fight is as much theirs as it is ours, we have a chance. You did well when you made Cratos see the point.”
“Cratos still want’s to kill us though,” Alan said.
“Perhaps,” Raphael moved to say more but Cratos was at the entrance to the palace motioning them forward.
Alan was pushed in the back for what seemed the hundredth time. Alan forced his mind away from retaliating and instead focused on what needed to happen. Alan thought back to his first encounter with Gabriel and how powerful the Fallen Archangel had been. Without the Queen’s help to reclaim Raphael’s power from Gabriel, they were hopeless. That was all that mattered now.
Alan followed Cratos up a flight of short stairs and into a large building. The palace was breathtaking. Smooth, stone floors polished to perfection were like mirrors to the wandering eye. Elaborate pastel paintings of minotaurs hung on almost every wall and thick pillars made of rock rose from the floor to the ceiling.
The group traveled through the room and down a path of twisting halls decorated with even more pictures and statues. Alan and Raphael were eventually ushered into a gigantic room with an open ceiling. In the center of the room on a raised dais, was the Queen. She sat on a large, ivory throne.
Despite the difference in their genetic makeup, Alan knew she was beautiful. It was something in her eyes, in the way she smiled at them as they approached. Her long eyelashes and sleek frame were enough to tell anyone, minotaur or not, she was attractive to her own kind.
An army of attendants waited on her ready and willing to do her bidding. Along with the servants at her call was a company of minotaur warriors. They pawed the floor measuring the human and Archangel as they approached.
As Alan and Raphael closed the distance between themselves and the Queen, Cratos and his group of escorts fell behind them. Alan could feel his heart beat against his chest as the tingling sensation of anxiety reached to consume his senses.
Still twenty yards from the Queen, Raphael stopped and fell to a single knee. Alan mimicked his motions. Raphael lowered his head and stared at the bright shining floor. Alan followed a second after. For a moment, all was still. Then the Queen spoke. Alan was surprised to hear no hint of grunting or clicking in her dialect. She talked as if she had spoken English since birth. “Rise, Horseman. Rise, Archangel, and welcome to Shangar.”
Alan lifted himself from his knee looking to the Queen with a sense of relief. Her tone was friendly, her words were courteous; with any luck this might work after all.
“My commander, Cratos, tells me you were found entering the domain of my kingdom without invitation.” Her tone suddenly lost all welcoming charm. Her eyes shone like fire against her short almond brown fur. “He tells me you have offered your own lives as forfeit if I do not find what you have to say pleasing.”
---
Alan felt fear twist his stomach. There were so many minotaurs present, all much large than he. If it came down to a fight, even with his supernatural gifts as a Horseman, Alan wasn’t sure they would win. It would require their minds, not their muscles to got them out of this.
“My Queen,” Raphael started, “we come in peace and friendship. Only asking you to share a piece of information that would help us overcome a common foe.”
“This foe you speak of is the Fallen Archangel Gabriel, also known as Hades, is it not?”
“It is.”
“Then you must know he is no friend nor foe of the minotaurs. We are neither in an alliance or count ourselves among the enemy of any human or angel. Our struggles are not yours; your struggles are not our own.”
Alan couldn’t help noticing from the corner of his eye Cratos smiling as he fingered the dagger in his belt.
“I do understand and respect your neutral position,” Raphael said. The old Archangel paused to gather his thoughts. Once ready he clasped both hands in front of him, “but please consider: if Gabriel rises to power and defeats the angels, then the humans, who is next? It won’t be long before he turns his eyes on the minotaurs and any other race that offers resistance.”
“I
s that a threat?” the Queen asked, rising from her seat.
“Of course not,” Raphael said, his voice as solid and unwavering as an oak tree, “only an observation made from one friend to another.”
The Queen weighed Raphael’s words, tilting her head one way then another. Silence fell over the room until the only thing Alan could hear was his own heartbeat. “It seems you have forced me in the middle of only two choices,” the Queen finally said. “No doubt, Gabriel knows you have come here. He must conclude you are seeking our aid. If I simply turn you away, he will not believe me. He will think I am assisting you.”
The Queen walked down from her raised dais and crossed the distance to Alan and Raphael. She was taller than either of them by a foot. As she approached, Alan caught the scent of wild roses contrasting her muscular figure in a way he never thought possible. “I must give you the aid you desire or kill you where you stand.”
Alan’s heart beat with the force of a battering ram. His mouth was dry as he waited for the Queen to speak again. “I can presume what knowledge you seek, Archangel, and I will assist you except only on my terms.”
Alan expected to hear relief in Raphael’s voice when he spoke again. None came. To his credit, the Archangel’s tone was as level as before. “Thank you, my Queen. You have only to name your terms.”
“If I give you the information you desire, every minotaur will be counted amongst the enemies of the Darkness and we will enter a war my predecessors have managed to stay out of for an eternity. Still I cannot—” the Queen paced back and forth in front of Alan and Raphael as she spoke, “I will not order an Archangel and a Horseman’s execution on the pretense of fear. If I do this, then I require both your words you will hold the Minotaur Nation’s wellbeing above all else. If the fight ever comes to our doorstep, I want to know the Horseman of War and Archangel also named Poseidon will be here to defend it.”
Alan Price and the Statue of Zeus (The Nephilim Chronicles Book 3) Page 13
