Ajacii and Demons: The Ingenairii Series

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Ajacii and Demons: The Ingenairii Series Page 14

by Jeffrey Quyle


  Alec looked at the man, momentarily tempted by the thought of killing someone who exemplified the permanent dislike he knew he was always going to face within Caitlen’s domain. Trading violence for violence wasn’t going to win the war though, he knew from his experience with the establishment in Michian. There had to be a better way to handle this he decided.

  Why do you hate me? Alec asked inside the man’s head. Who else are you working with? Who put you up to this?

  “What are you doing? How can you do that?” the man shouted aloud.

  Your allies – tell me who your allies are. This is not the way to help the Princess; this is not the way to help Vincennes; this is not the way to help the people of this land. We must work together, Alec lectured him. Give me the names of the people who told you to attack, and I will see that they do not harm anyone. The Princess intends to unify the nation in peace, not keep spreading useless wars.

  Alec recollected the manner in which Chester had treated him with Spiritual powers long ago, when he had been an apprentice on Ingenairii Hill. Alec had felt great grief and anguish in the wake of an attack in Noranda Locksfort, and Chester had provided a steadying, calming application of Spiritual energy. Alec actively reached for his Spiritual power, and awkwardly sought to open the same type of energy application, one that would expose his subject to the unstoppable knowledge of holy wisdom.

  Feel this energy, Alec told the assassin. Ask it questions, and let it bring wisdom and guidance to you.

  “Why is a foreigner on our throne?” the man asked out loud.

  This is a man, like any other man, who brings his own wisdom and weaknesses to Vincennes. No man is perfect, nor is any man completely flawed. Alec’s distant roots do not make him bad – they only demonstrate that he can offer other perspectives on society, a voice of reason flowed through to the archer.

  We’ve never allowed foreigners to rule us before, the archer protested, this time responding with his own mental voice.

  You’ve not done many things before, but each new thing must be judged on its own merits. You would not want your God to weigh your soul against the standards of another age or society, the voice responded. You must consider whether this foreigner is the right man to be married to the Princess, and you must trust her judgment. Do you not think she has weighed his virtues and service in reaching her decision to wed him? She finds that he has done more than many who are natives of the land.

  Why should we even trust her as a ruler? The man’s enmity seemed to be fading as he listened.

  She has strode through more adversity than any other ruler you might know. She has shown determination and strength in daunting circumstances. This strong woman will lead your nation in a more virtuous manner than a weak man, the response said. Do not distrust these two who are about to be married, who you know have tried and worked for success. Distrust those who remain hidden and secretive in their plots, who will not reveal their motives or masters.

  Alec broke the link and stood up, taking his weight off the man who had shot the arrow.

  “I don’t know what you did, or how you did it. But there was power in those words,” the archer said. “There are two men in the city, one an officer, one a civilian, who told me what to do. Their names are Ethanuel and Captain Trankle,” the man said.

  “Take him to a cell, but do not mistreat him,” Alec told one of the guards who had arrived and stood by him. “I will speak to him personally tomorrow. Find this Captain Trankle he spoke of, and lock that man in a separate cell. I’ll speak to him tomorrow as well.

  “Bethany,” Alec looked around for his friend. “Go with the captive, and find out how to capture the civilian he mentioned, Ethanuel, then go with guards and arrest him. Lock him up separately from the others. We’ll question him tomorrow along with the rest.”

  “Do you want me to go at this moment?” Bethany asked.

  She has a role to play shortly in the wedding ceremony, if you think we should resume, Caitlen’s voice explained.

  “No, you can wait until we finish this,” Alec told her. He turned and walked back towards the front of the room, stopping to pick up the priest’s dagger he had thrown. He carried the thin blade with him back to the front of the room, followed by Bethany, and Rahm as well, he realized.

  Alec was bemused by the new use of the Spiritual power, a use he had never engaged before. It was a powerful tool, and one that gave him a sense of connection to his own God in a way he had seldom felt while in the foreign land he inhabited.

  “Are you alright, Alec?” Caitlen asked him as he reached the dais, a faraway look in his eyes. “What did you do to the traitor back there?”

  “I’m fine,” Alec said. “We can talk about the archer later. May we finish the ceremony now, or have we disrupted it too severely?” he looked at the priest as he handed the stiletto back to him.

  The priest glanced at Caitlen, who nodded. The priest used the blade to again pink her finger, then did the same with Alec, and pressed their hands together. “Your blood flows together now, just as your thoughts and your hearts will merge into one in your marriage. You shall always put the best interests of your marriage partnership ahead of your personal interest. If you agree and accept this duty, show that you will comfort your partner.”

  Do as I do, Caitlen instructed Alec, as she raised his pricked finger to her mouth and placed it between her lips. He followed her lead, smiling as he felt her tongue tip dance around his finger.

  “You have shown your compassion for your partner,” the priest intoned. “Now you must demonstrate your loyalty as well. Proceed to the priest of commitment.”

  Holding hands, Alec and Caitlen stepped back to the priest in the center. “You are young, and your bodies feel hungers and emotions that can be at conflict with your commitment,” the priest said.

  Alec felt a strange, painful sensation, one that was disturbing and familiar. His head began to throb, and he tried to figure out why. Suddenly the shocking realization of what caused such pain struck him like an arrow, and he winced noticeably while his knees buckled, causing Caitlen and the priest to both look at him with concern.

  It couldn’t be possible, he told himself. He twisted his neck, looking around the room at the crowd of people, trying to identify an obvious source. He knew he was sensing the spiritual pain of a demon being called into the world. It was something that he hadn’t known in centuries, literally; something he couldn’t imagine that existed here in Vincennes. He’d never heard of demons being called forth in this world.

  Alec held up his hand to the priest, seeking a pause in the ceremony. Rahm, Bethany, stand nearby, ready to take Caitlen to safety. Are there spare swords near me? He asked.

  Caitlen, I sense great danger, something that can kill and destroy dozens of people. It is something that can easily defeat me in battle. Be ready to run, he sent a panic-stricken message to his bride.

  The intensity of the pain of the demon’s impending appearance increased in his mind, and he went down to his knees.

  “Alec, are you alright?” Caitlen asked aloud, bending over him. “Are you this scared of marrying me?” she asked with worried humor.

  Alec vomited in response, his stomach twisting in anguish at the thought that a demon was about to appear at his wedding. “Caitlen, you and the priests need to prepare to leave immediately. Rahm and Bethany will take you to safety. Is there a back way out of here?”

  “Alec, what is it? You’re frightening me,” Caitlen answered. What do you fear?

  Before he could answer, he heard a crashing noise, and then a multitude of screams. He looked up and saw a demon entering the back of the room, ripping through the location where the doorway had stood.

  I am so sorry we didn’t finish our wedding, Alec told her. Rahm, Bethany, come take the princess and the priests to safety, he added.

  “If I survive, I may take a long time to heal. I love you, Esmere Caitlen Trelawney,” Alec spoke aloud. He stood tall, and saw Bethany and Rahm c
onverging on the front of the room. He looked around at the screaming, fleeing crowd, and spotted a man with a sword, then leaped towards the man, snatched the sword from his scabbard, found another man’s blade and took it, then began to run towards the demon that was stalking forward through the assembly hall, spreading death in its path.

  Chapter 14 – The Battle with the Impossible

  All the demons Alec had fought had appeared individually different, either larger or smaller, with wider scales or finer ones. Some had been crested, others had been barrel-chested, but none of them had an appearance that struck him quite the way that this one did. It had a shiny iridescence about it that made it memorable. As it advanced rapidly towards the front of the room, each individual scale gleamed and reflected light with a noxious glow. The sparks of light that reflected off the monster were almost hypnotic in appearance.

  Alec ran to step into the path of the monster, a sword in each hand. The heavy ceremony robes he wore felt binding and restrictive, but he hadn’t time to remove them as the demon came upon him and swatted at him with its dangerous clawed forepaw.

  Alec jumped high in the air, somersaulting at the top of his rise, and swung each sword at the wrist of the monster’s clawed right hand, severing the appendage. He landed on his feet, standing astride the still writhing hand, and looked up at the bellowing visage. The monster was waving its stump in the air, spewing the dark, acidic blood in an arcing stream.

  The demon turned its snout downward and bellowed at Alec, then dove at him. Alec jumped off to his left, but felt himself come to an abrupt stop in midair as the demon hooked the claws of its still whole hand into the fluttering material of Alec’s robe. He fell to the ground, landing on his back with a thud that knocked the breath out of him. He rolled rapidly to his left as the demon’s foot stomped down on his landing spot, then stood up while still trying to catch his breath. With the sword in his right hand he sliced at the front of his robes, opening them up so that he was able to shrug them off, then jumped away from the pile of rich cloth as the demon charged at him.

  He felt freer, less encumbered without the robes, better prepared to react to the demon’s actions. He landed again, this time in the midst of a cluster of fleeing members of the nobles who had been attending the wedding. “Keep moving,” Alec told them, “I’ll lure him away.” He looked over his shoulder at the front of the assembly hall, where Caitlen and the priests were no longer in sight, then ran at the monster, and slid on the ground beneath it, rocketing between its legs and raising his swords to slice its thighs as he passed beneath.

  Once behind it he rose and ran back at it, stepping on its tail, leaping onto its back, and then taking a flying step off its shoulders as he jumped out in front of it to lure it away from the milling crowd that hadn’t escaped from the room. As he hurled forward the demon swung its bloody stump at him from behind, and he felt droplets of its blood burn as they splattered on his legs.

  Alec landed with a roll near the front of the stage, and the demon came promptly behind him. Before Alec was ready it snapped its jaws together on his left calf and raised Alec high in the air, shaking him like a dog, then tossing him against the back wall. He hit it with a thud, feeling excruciating pain in his leg and in his ribs, many of which must have fractured in the collision with the solid stone wall.

  He tried to rise, but the damage to his leg was too extensive to support him, so he sat with his back against the wall and watched the demon approach. He managed to raise himself onto his knees and lean against the wall, and he held the swords in front of him.

  The monster stood before him, and Alec noted that its severed stump was beginning to regenerate the missing limb. The monster feinted an attack with its claws that Alec fended off, his sword clashing with the claws, but doing no damage.

  Caitlen, I love you, Alec sent a message to her, his voice sounding faint even to himself as he felt the damage to his body sapping his strength.

  God is real, Jesus is real, salvation is real, but sin cannot abide forever, Alec threw the mental challenge to the demon, provoking it to scream in outrage. You will return to nothingness and emptiness, while the Holy Spirit will live on.

  The names were goads like fiery brands for the demon, and it thrust its head towards Alec, reaching his torso and gripping him as he pulled his swords high and then clashed them together upon the demon’s neck. The blades hacked through the flesh and struck the bony vertebra, cutting through as Alec put his last vestige of power into the blow.

  The monster’s head, still clutching Alec, fell to the ground, severed, and the falling body sprayed a jet of caustic black blood against the wall, causing acrid dark smoke to cascade down like flowing water. More of the blood sheeted over Alec, bringing pain across all parts of his body as he rolled out of the lifeless jaws of the monster. He opened his eyes and saw that the dulling eye of the demon was just a few feet away from him, as pieces of flesh began to slough off. Knowing what would happen next, Alec folded his crippled arms over his head in a protective cover, then passed out.

  Chapter 15 – Lokasenna in the Palace

  Caitlen waited in despair as the surgeons reported to her on the third day following her interrupted wedding. They had amputated the left leg below the knee, and had amputated the right arm at the shoulder, after the damage from the demon’s blood, the bats, and the explosive fire of the demon’s head had destroyed it. They could not wrap his broken ribs because of the puncture wounds around his torso where the demon had bit into him, and half his face was still blackened from the acidic burns of the demon blood.

  Caitlen thanked and dismissed the doctors, then cried in despair. She hadn’t seen Alec’s battle, Rahm and Bethany having faithfully carried her and the priests away from the assembly hall. She had heard numerous reports of the battle though, from the many eye witnesses who had spoken of Alec’s suicidal efforts to fight the monster, and if any good had come from the horrible tragedy, the population’s adulation for Alec as a fighter was that positive result. Piles of flowers and sweets were massed in a makeshift temple at the gate to the palace, and the city was enthralled in the wave of stories about Alec’s battle. The priests he had sent to safety had spoken his praises from their temples, amplifying the stories of his heroism.

  He would be touched to be finally embraced by the population, Caitlen saw the irony of the situation, and wished she could convey it to him. But he did not respond to either spoken or unspoken expressions of love and hope. She wanted to speak with him and cherish his voice, but she could not even touch him very much, such a large portion of his body being burned, injured, broken, or now missing.

  She wanted him to tell her about the demon, the horrific monster that had appeared at their wedding. It was something he was familiar with, it had been evident, and she vaguely remembered some stories in which he had mentioned demons. Why had it appeared in Vincennes, and why at their marriage ceremony? Could another one appear at any time? She had no answers to the questions that troubled her mind.

  She has prayed to Alec’s god, the one she had learned so much about as their souls had entangled during his efforts to convert her to an ingenaire. He had wanted to give her the ability to farspeak with him, so that he would be able to find and protect her. But in the process of giving her his blood to help implant his ability within her, he had opened up his memories, and implanted glimpses of them, and a sense of his faith. She had chuckled inwardly during the wedding ceremony when the priest had dabbed drops of their blood together; he had not even come close to re-enacting the intimacy of the full blood flow they had shared when Alec had begun his quest to make her an ingenaire.

  Please heal him, she sent out another of her anguished prayers.

  I am coming to heal him. I will bring water of life and rejuvenation, a woman’s voice responded to her cry for help. This must be covert. Tell no one, keep him alive. I will arrive in two weeks.

  Who are you? Caitlen asked. She recognized the mental voice; it was the woman who had
spoken to her the night Alec had rescued her from a kidnapping, the night she had inadvertently plunged a knife into Alec instead of her captor. She waited, but there was no answer, and she could only hope that the mysterious healer would arrive before Alec succumbed to the shock of his injuries.

  I am at the gate to your palace, a mental voice abruptly brought Caitlen up short several days later as she tried to focus on her duties as ruler, planning for the storage of grain from the summer harvest of wheat. Come and bring my companion and I into the palace, and take us to a secluded building. We do not wish to be seen.

  How will I know you? Caitlen asked, rising to her feet.

  I wear a sky-blue shawl, and a dark gray veil, the woman replied. We have a hand cart.

  Caitlen called for Bethany and Rahm, and walked as fast as she could in her condition towards the main gate. When they arrived, Caitlen stepped out in front of the guards to scan the crowd that passed by. She was recognized and drew cheers from her increasingly loyal populace, but paid no attention as she examined the traffic, until her eyes came to rest upon a very large man pulling a handcart loaded with kegs of water. He was accompanied by a woman whose shawl was so precisely the shade of a blue summer sky that Caitlen felt a twinge of momentary desire to possess the beautiful cloth.

 

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