Like Brican, Moreen had a useless array of cards. Her highest card, however, was the six of Men.
Brican’s jaw dropped.
“Oh, damn, looks like I lost,” Moreen said, her eyes twinkling.
Tally slates were handed in, and to everyone’s great amusement, both Brican and Moreen had bet everything to lose. Moreen dragged the bowl toward her and poured an enormous pile of coins out in front of her – most of them had been sitting in front of Brican not two minutes before. Guilian had “won” the hand with three eights, but he only received a handful of coins from the large pile.
Brican was still staring in shock at the two arrangements of cards as though trying to figure out how his cards had betrayed him.
“So,” Michael said, his spirits now lifted considerably. He turned toward Garnet. “Tell us what had you in such a good mood. We heard you coming about a mile away.”
Garnet clapped Brican on the back and settled himself more comfortably in his chair.
“Well, our meeting with the Prismatic Council went better than we ever could have hoped,” Garnet said with an easy smile, “due largely to our winged friend over there.” He waved his hand toward Mikal, who was sitting in close conversation with Birch on the far side of the common room.
“We made our proposition to the Council, and at first there was some resistance, as could only be expected,” Garnet continued. “It’s a major undertaking to send five hundred paladins halfway across the continent, and if we find the Binding in usable shape, thousands more would follow us. We finally got them to agree to let us go, but at first they only wanted to send Shadow Company with a few messengers to bring back word.”
“Are you serious?” Michael asked. “You’d think maybe they’d have learned to trust us and listen when we bring something to them. Experience alone should lend some credence to our backing.”
“Some people take longer to learn lessons than others,” Danner said, shaking his head. He still looked tired, but Alicia said he’d slept better the previous night than he had in weeks, and it showed. “Even with my uncle there, still they didn’t believe us. They didn’t want to believe. It’s so much easier to just pretend the war ended with the fall of the Barrier and the passing of Hell. We survived, we’re still here, so maybe we won after all,” Danner said in a whining, mocking voice. He snorted in disgust. “They didn’t want to be forced to acknowledge that the demon hiding under their bed hasn’t really disappeared, he just went to hide in the closet instead.”
“So what happened?” Guilian asked. Garnet blinked and looked at the denarae lieutenant. Guilian rarely spoke to them as a group.
“Mikal happened,” Garnet replied. “They were getting ready to argue themselves out of sending anyone but a handful of us when Birch introduced our new friend there, and that pretty much shut all of them up. The presence of an angel, much less a Seraph and the current Angel of Death himself, is more than a little startling. He told them in no uncertain terms that they were to support our efforts and start making preparations to march to Heaven.”
“I believe his exact words,” Danner said, “were something like, ‘Don your armor, take up your swords, and answer the call of Almighty God, who summons you to Heaven to take your place in the eternal struggle against the forces of Hell.’”
“Poetic,” Michael murmured.
“They apparently thought so,” Garnet said with a smile. “Two of them even jumped to their feet and volunteered to march with us.”
Michael frowned. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
Garnet shrugged. “I know one of them is Daevis, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”
“So that’s what had you laughing?” Danner asked dubiously. “You laughed like a drunken ox all the way Home?”
“That? No,” Garnet shook his head, grinning. “Flasch just does really good impersonations of the various council members when Mikal first revealed himself.”
- 2 -
Perklet leaned heavily on Nuse’s shoulder as the two of them walked toward the Iron Axe Inn. They had been on their way to visit Birch when a woman accosted them in the streets, begging for help. She recognized Perklet’s green cloak and pleaded tearfully for him to come help her sister, who was having a difficult birth.
Of course, they had both gone, and only a few minutes ago they had departed from what should have been a home filled with joy and wonder at a new life. Instead, they left behind a home stricken by grief and death.
“Too many,” Perklet murmured in a tired voice.
“Easy there, Perky,” Nuse said. His skinny, aged limbs struggled to keep them both upright as the Green paladin abruptly sagged against him.
“Hey,” Nuse grunted. “Come on now, Perk. I’m as upset about that poor child as you are, but collapsing and dragging me to the street with you is no way to deal with it.”
Perklet straightened a bit, enough so Nuse could adjust himself to better bear the stricken paladin’s weight. Perklet was more than a decade younger than Nuse, who estimated he’d been alive for something over sixty years. He really wasn’t sure how old he was. For most of his young life, his only concern had been scrounging for food and warm clothing, not celebrating another year of miserable poverty and degradation.
“We’re almost there,” Nuse said, repeating it several times like a mantra for strength. “Get a strong cup of cahve into you, maybe some good stiff spirits, and you’ll feel a little more like yourself. Never knew anyone that a few good drinks didn’t made them feel better. Warmer, too, and usually a bit more obnoxious, but definitely feeling better.”
Perklet didn’t respond.
Two blocks later, Nuse stumbled up the stairs and managed to get the door open without dropping the oblivious Perklet. He whistled for help, and immediately two denarae were on-hand to relieve him of his burden. It was almost like they’d been waiting for him.
“Nuse,” Danner said in concern as he walked over, “what’s wrong with Perky?”
“He just needs something to lift his spirits a bit, if you take my meaning,” Nuse said, miming a drink. Danner nodded. “I wouldn’t mind a mug myself, if you’ve got one handy.”
“Here comes Alicia now with a little something,” Danner said, clapping his fellow Blue paladin on the shoulder.
Nuse had always liked Danner, even from the first time they’d met. Back then, Danner had been a thief on the run from the Coalition of Men for Mankind, traveling with his uncle for protection.
My how things have changed, Nuse thought. Such a long road trod in so short a time, and still so much further to go. At least for him. How much longer until my own journey is over?
Nuse shied away from such morbidity as he slumped into a chair and gratefully took a mug of chilled ale from Alicia. He’d only met the barmaid a handful of times, and she’d always been very sweet but with a core of steel – much like Moreen, he mused. Nuse was glad Danner had found someone so suited to him. He took a deep drink from the foamy mug and closed his eyes as the cool liquid hit his throat then slowly coursed down to his stomach.
He sighed and leaned back slowly in his chair.
“You all right, Nuse?” Danner asked.
“Just age, lad,” Nuse said wearily. “It’s creeping up even faster on me than my hair is creeping away. It’s a race, I suppose, to see if I’ll die with any hair on my head, or will my baldness beat me to the grave.”
Nuse glanced around the room and saw Birch deep in conversation with a winged figure only a few tables away. The aged paladin’s eyes widened as he pointed toward the angel.
“Is that him?” Nuse asked. “The Seraph who spoke to the Council today?” He stopped and shook his head before Danner could reply. “Silly question, of course, unless you have a platoon of angels hiding here.”
“The very same,” Danner said, smiling. “Mikal, but sometimes we call him Thanatos to keep from confusing him with our Michael.”
“We call him,” Nuse repeated, rolling his eyes. “Like he’s a pet dog you have sitting aroun
d.”
Danner opened his mouth to protest, but Nuse winked and waved it down.
“You want to meet him?” Danner asked. “He’s a bit stiff and formal at times, but by and large we’ve decided he’s okay now. He and Birch had a fight a while ago that loosened him up a bit.”
“Your uncle argued with an angel?” Nuse asked, his eyes widening. “Is he finally completely mad?”
“Well, it was more Kaelus than my uncle but it amounts to the same thing, and he didn’t so much argue with Mikal as he did slug him,” Danner said with a shrug. Nuse stared at him. “Here.” Danner raised a hand and beckoned toward them. “Mikal, I’d like to introduce you to someone. Uncle, if you’ll do the honors.”
The two crossed the room quietly and Nuse quickly clasped arms with Birch in greeting. Mikal looked away from Danner and focused solely on the elderly paladin.
“Nuse, if I may introduce Mikal the Seraph, or Thanatos, as he is currently the Angel of Death,” Birch said, motioning to the gray angel. “Mikal, this is Nuse Rojena of the Blue Facet. He was with me in the jintaal that slew one of The Three, and he’s about as true of heart as they come.”
Nuse flushed under the compliment, but shook the angel’s hand with unfeigned delight.
Mikal nodded solemnly. “An honor.”
“Delighted to meet you,” Nuse said with a boyish grin on his face.
“What’s with Perky?” Birch asked, as they settled down in seats.
“We were called on to help with a difficult birth on the way over here,” Nuse explained. “Perklet’s good, but there wasn’t anything he could do. The mother made it through okay, but the child only survived for a second or two outside her womb. Poor thing never had a chance, and Perky’s taking it almost as hard as the family did.”
Birch frowned.
“He had the same thing happen a few days ago,” Birch said. “He mentioned it to me. Child born, but died only a few seconds later.”
“It happened here, too,” Danner said. “Remember, Alicia? Deshilla’s baby. We’d already gone upstairs by the time Mo came out and told everybody.”
“That’s right, she told me about it,” Birch said, but he shook his head. “I was busy at the time, and it really didn’t sink in then.”
“So many children,” Nuse said. “So young, so innocent.”
Abruptly Danner stiffened, and he turned slowly to look at the gray angel sitting opposite him. The Angel of Death.
“Thanatos,” he said softly, deliberately using the angel’s title rather than his name, “do you have anything to do with this? These deaths?”
The gray angel regarded him silently. Danner was on the verge of repeating himself when Birch spoke.
“Danner, what are you saying?” his uncle asked sharply.
“Please forgive me if I’m wrong about this, but under the circumstances,” Danner said, suddenly aware he sounded an awful lot like Garnet had only a day or so before, when he’d confronted Danner about his own suspicions. “There’s been a lot of children born lately who’ve died immediately after, and it all started about the same time as you came down from Heaven. I don’t mean to insult you, but it has to be asked.”
Birch turned to regard the death angel, a troubled expression on his face.
“Mikal?” he asked slowly.
“It is not my doing,” Mikal answered slowly, looking at Birch, not at Danner, “and I think if you looked into it you would find it has been going on longer than I have been on this world. Most likely, it goes back to the instant when Hell surprised us all and began its assault directly on Heaven.”
Nuse frowned, not understanding.
“Life comes from the separation of Good and Evil,” Birch said slowly, turning it over in his mind even as he spoke, “their separation, but recombination in mortals. At the time of the Great Schism, Pleroma was split in half – two halves of infinite space – and divided into Heaven and Hell. When that happened, life was created on this world in the mortal plane.”
Mikal nodded.
“First, life was simple creatures, nothing like the complex beings that exist today,” the angel said, taking up Birch’s thread of thought. “Countless eons passed before intelligent creatures evolved, but it wasn’t until sentient life developed that anyone in either plane took notice of this new thing called life: life that was created and had its being because the two pieces of the immortal plane had been ripped apart.”
“And now Hell has realigned with Heaven, and they are no longer entirely eparate,” Nuse said, finally comprehending. He thought back to a conversation they’d had immediately after the end of the Barrier War. “But that means…”
“Life itself is in jeopardy,” Mikal said grimly. “If we lose… If Mephistopheles gains the Throne of God and Heaven is destroyed, then everything living in this world will cease. For now, it is mostly life that is in a weakened condition, like newborns.”
“Are you saying that as long as Hell is aligned with Heaven,” Alicia said, a tremor in her voice, “any new child won’t survive his own birth?”
Danner turned to look at her in concern and quickly grew worried when he saw Alicia’s skin was deathly pale and she was trembling. He immediately stood and wrapped his arms around her.
“Are you thinking of Brican and Caeesha and the twins, love?” Danner whispered, trying to understand why she was so stricken. “They’re still months away from being born. We’ve got some time still.”
As Danner walked off with Alicia trying to console her, Nuse watched the two of them go and slowly shook his head. He didn’t think it was Brican – or his unborn children – that had so upset her. Not that at all.
Birch slowly stood and looked at Mikal and Nuse with a grim expression.
“I think now would be a good time to retire for the evening,” he said. “I don’t know that I want to think any further tonight on the implications of a whole generation of children dead before their first breaths.”
He turned to Nuse.
“There are extra rooms here available,” Birch said. “I think someone has already helped Perky to one, and you’re welcome to choose one for yourself. Just ask one of the house maidens for help.”
Nuse nodded.
“I’d like to stay up a while and speak with our friend here, if he’s amenable,” Nuse said, looking hopefully at Mikal, who nodded.
“Good evening to you both, then,” Birch said, then he left. He stopped and spoke softly to Moreen, who nodded and said she’d join him shortly.
Nuse turned his attention to Mikal, and only then did he realize he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him.
- 3 -
“Who are you?”
“Oh, you know who I am,” the Voice replied. “We’ve spoken many times before, but you always forget, just as you will likely forget this conversation when we are through. In truth, every mortal knows me, especially those who try so vehemently to deny my existence. It’s quite amusing, really.”
“Why can’t I see you?”
“You are blind, mortal,” the Voice said with a dry laugh. “It is generally impossible to see when one is incapable of sight.”
“My eyes…”
“Sliced across the front by a demon’s burning claw two days ago,” the Voice said. “I watched it happen. It looked quite painful, if your screams were any indication.”
“Who are you?” he demanded again. “What new torment is this? I warn you, spawn of Satan, you will glean no satisfaction from me, whatever your aim.”
“Ah, so certain of that, are you?” the Voice asked with another laugh. “You assume, then, that you know what will satisfy me. A most treacherous assumption, that. And you throw about the Dark One’s name with such courageous disregard. Or is it arrogance?”
He waited a long moment, but the Voice let the silence drag on. Finally, he asked, “What do you want from me, demon?”
“The same thing I want from all the paladins who are brought here,” the Voice said. “To speak wit
h you and learn who you are.”
“Why? So you can better know us and find new ways to torture us?”
The Voice sighed. “So untrusting, and so unoriginal. Why is it that all you mortals make the same tiresome accusations? I can promise you no further torture or harm will come from telling me. No other will even know.”
“You ask me to take the word of a demon of Hell?” he asked, laughing scornfully.
“Come now, paladin,” the Voice said. “Surely you can’t be afraid? What can you lose from trusting me? If I lie, what torment can be inflicted upon you worse than you’ve already endured? If I speak the truth, you lose nothing.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I’m searching for something,” the Voice replied. “I’m searching for a certain someone, and who knows, perhaps you may be the one. What is your name, mortal?”
“I am Birch de’Valderat,” he replied.
“That’s not the name your parents gave you though, is it?” the Voice asked.
“No, but it is my name,” he said firmly.
“True. How interesting. So you are Birch. A good start. What Facet of the Prism were you initially, Birch de’Valderat?” the Voice asked. “Before you felt the Calling.”
“I was of the Red Facet.”
“Ah, excellent,” the Voice said. “I have always thought a Red would suit my purposes best. I find your Orange paladins to be rather tiresome, as are the Greens. Worst of all are the Violets with their constant ramblings about faith and babbling about divine retribution. I must say, however, they are certainly the most entertaining to see broken.”
Something in the words emanating from the Voice sparked a memory, and he spat out a string of curses.
“I know you now! I remember you! You are Him. You are pure Evil!”
The Voice laughed.
“There is no such thing,” the Voice said. “I am not Evil. Don’t try to label what you don’t truly understand, mortal.”
He was silent for a long moment, turning over the different meanings of what he’d just heard, his vehement reaction already forgotten.
Finally, he said, “You are Satan.”
The Voice let loose a long sigh that almost seemed to caress his ears with sinister satisfaction.
Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) Page 14
