

### "The Chronicles of

### Heaven's War:

### Book V

### Ghosts of Lagandow"

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2018 Ava D. Dohn

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Table of Contents **:**

Section 21 Father of the Gorgons

Section 22 I, the Kriggerman

Section 23 Shall the World Forever Burn

Section 24 Blood-cry of the Sister Runes

Section 25 Shadows and Dreams

### Section 21

Father of the Gorgons

Biting winds whipped ash and tiny debris across the barren landscape, a distant dwarf star's eerie glow flooding over jagged escarpments and narrow ravines. Mountains glowing crimson red in the ghostly light cast long shadows over broad expanses of desolate, waterless deserts.

Once covered by oceans of blue teeming with fishes and great beasts of the sea, landmasses with vast, vibrant green forests and plains noisy with the excitement of life, the planet now rested quietly in cold and darkness. Gone were its cities filled with works of art and invention. A long-ago firestorm from a supernova left nothing remain. Even the proud race of men who once called this place 'home' were little more than mystical memories, stories told children wishing for a bedtime tale.

Intruding upon this lifeless world where the tiniest of microbes could find no resting place came long-forgotten sounds of footsteps crunching brittle cinders scattered across the black obsidian plateau. Someone stood near the edge of a steep precipice, peering at the distant star, quietly listening as a cloaked figure drew near.

Silhouetted against the pale light was a person of some stature, a flowing, hooded robe snapping in the breeze, hiding all but the black boots and leggings they wore. As the sound of footsteps grew louder, that person turned, the shadows of their hood keeping safe the person's identity, but not from the one drawing close.

Both parties reached out with their right hand, grasping each other's mid-arm in fond salutation. The hooded person was cordial and polite. "It is well that you could be here, Phulakee. I was hoping your counsel would be available."

Phulakee grinned, "The girl is safe for the moment. Ardon stands her side and will allow no harm come to her. But of your daughter, Tolohe, have you, my friend RosMismar, been able to console her over her recent loss?"

RosMismar shook his head. "The hour for her mourning has not come to a finish. She did not understand my promise because she saw my words through her heart. Tomorrow...tomorrow, on a better day than this, I will move her lover's heart to join with hers and provide the promised cure." He looked around, asking, "And what of the others? Are you the only one to answer my request?"

"No, he's not the only one!" someone called out, approaching from a nearby draw. "Some of us have work to do and cannot flit away at a moment's notice."

A cheerful protest arose from RosMismar and Phulakee. Phulakee chided the recent intruder, "Ysuah, have you not been called the 'maker of lazy dreams'? Work? What tree have you been sleeping under?"

"You should better ask, 'Who have you been sleeping with?' Ah, but that is for another day." Ysuah gave his two companions a hearty handshake. "The man from the Realms Below seeks hidden treasures in the mountains to the north, not yet understanding the tribulation awaiting him there."

RosMismar asked, "Will he succeed or is our effort in vain?"

Ysuah grinned, "He will succeed! ZoeStethos has chosen well. My blood flows in his veins. It will not fail him." He raised his hand, extending a finger. "Gradian's Needle has pierced the flesh of Michael. Her demon fears the day for Eden's Sword now spins in wait for it. And Paul is finally becoming the man we had hoped him to be. Anna's witchcraft will soon come to its finish."

"Good! Good!" RosMismar replied, pulling his hood back. "Gradian has done his work well."

Phulakee tipped his head to the side. "My daughter Sirion...have you made preparations for her cure? Chrusion's power was greater than I expected. The monster hordes growing within her will soon destroy the child's mind if the cure is not forthcoming. Are you sure our man...your son...can effect it?"

"Do not doubt the power of my son," Ysuah reassured Phulakee. "Never have I seen a man from the Realms Below better suited for his assignment. He is as gentle as Zoe's touch on your skin and as brutish as the wild bulls of Pilneser. The man has buried his past but not forgotten it. His travels through the wastelands of Memphis will reawaken his old ways."

Ysuah shook his finger. "When the hour of cure arrives, our man will have rekindled a ruthless heart, fooling Sirion's demons into believing they are being visited by their living kindred. They will allow him entry into their world."

Before anyone could reply, Ysuah added, "I have taken the liberty to deliver upon myself a child. I have grown fond of her and desire to bring her into the world of the Seraphim. She rides upon the midnight with my son. Her soul I wish to take for but an hour. I will return her to the land of the living unharmed but changed. Her spirit is like Chasileah's. As you recall, I trained her also."

RosMismar argued, "The hour is not yet come for the gathering of the new children and our counsel you have not sought out in this matter. Why do you act so boldly in this regard?"

"Boldly?!" Ysuah smiled, looking at Phulakee. "Did the leader of our council also ask you about your boldness when you took it upon yourself to bring Sirion into our secret world? She was even dead, her spirit having left for the Field of the Minds and you returned the child to life before the Coming Day. How say you? I did not see you seek counsel in such a matter."

Phulakee defended his actions. "If the child were returned in the Coming Day, her cure might not be effected, thus cursing her to an eternity of damnation, those demons never giving her rest. I did what I felt must be done."

"And so is Ysuah!" the voice of another visitor piped up. JabethHull and Contaniea strode up to the others, greeting each as before. JabethHull raised his hand to continue speaking. "Ysuah has proffered this matter before us already. We concluded it too small an issue to gather the entire council for debate. Little does Ysuah request, and rarely is it for selfish cause. I believe this child of whom he speaks..." he looked at Ysuah asking, "a certain Daisho, correct?"

Ysuah nodded.

JabethHull thanked him. "I believe Daisho may well serve us in future days when Shiloh has arrived." He mused, "That boy is much like Treston...in spirit, I mean." He again addressed Ysuah's choosing of Daisho. "I agree with Ysuah's desire to bring her into the fold. Her training should start soon. She's one of the best candidates I have seen in many millennia."

Contaniea added, shrugging, "Besides, it's not like the ancient ways still remain. The union of old and new has brought about a change that we, not so long ago, could not see even with all our wisdom. Our plans have altered regarding the part we shall play in the world of men. Has it not been decided, for ZoeStethos' sake, that we shall not abandon this universe totally to men but watch over it from the shadows for all eternity? Are the results of our decisions not part of the reason for our being here this day?"

Phulakee concurred, gesturing as he spoke. "To us, the beginning of the Age of the Seraphim was only yesterday. The children of this realm call it 'the start of the Second Age'. Most of ZoeStethos' children were not born at that time. Although we were aware of her desire to fill this universe with children, not even the most ancient of us..." he pointed at RosMismar, JabethHull, and himself, "even we could not see or believe that Zoe would one day discover a way to make her children purveyors of divine life."

He was interrupted by more arrivals who were quickly brought up to speed regarding the discussion. When that order of business was concluded, RosMismar requested that Phulakee continue. As was customary with such a gathering, he stepped into the center, the group now standing in a large semicircle. "As I have alluded to, a great many things have changed since we departed this world to seek new adventures for ourselves. We underestimated the power of the heart and how it so easily makes a person too sleepy to detect evil. Our children, the Seraphim, failed not out of wickedness or even laziness. They were lulled to sleep by the pleasures of life playing on their hearts."

Phulakee raised his hand in gesture and began to slowly pace. "If we had not abandoned our children and remained with them, vigilant in our instruction, they may well have succeeded. They failed because we failed to recognize the dramatic change in Zoe's heart from the time she made us to when her children were produced.

"And now we have come to see that the children of the Lower Realms are even different by nature from their brethren above. It was for this very reason that RosMismar and JabethHull approached Zoe, requesting her to deliver into our hands specially chosen children from that place. Even now they are changing the way the war against the darkness is waged..."

Gradian motioned to speak. "I must add this observation. War changes even the children of this world. Sirion and Daisho are young Seraphim in the making. We recognized their potential and are taking steps to bring it to fruition." He pointed at Phulakee. "And see what you have accomplished with Darla, our Queen Adaya. More fearsome than some raging beast she has become.

"Now to my point: the children from the Realms Beneath have known only war. Their days of peace are few at best and filled with strife. They come to us filled with an anger delivered since birth. Will it not be such a race of men that will succeed at peace, where as someone who has always lived a life of contentment may well again fall asleep once the battle has ended?"

He swept his arm wide. "Not one of our kind has ever rebelled. It is not in our nature. Why?" He paused for effect. "Because our mind sees the foolishness of it and, by avoiding such foolishness, our mind become satisfied. And our heart? Well our heart is tied in so closely with our mind, they are as one with each other.

"But it is not the case with Zoe's children. Their heart thinks not the same as their mind. It is as if there is a struggling between two separate persons dwelling within one soul. It is an easy matter for Zoe's children to forget that the heart is like an unreasoning beast and seeks only its personal gratification.

"Rebellion comes from a heart that has taken control of the mind...a heart seeking satisfaction for power. That desire for power induces one to grow in false pride. We can see this pride through the harmonics, but we cannot feel it or even truly understand it.

"It was for this very reason...the unpredictability of the heart...that ZoeStethos handed over to us the power of life and death to stand as judges as to right and wrong. We, for our part, created timeless laws with which to judge all living flesh. And we placed the Web of the Minds within the network of those laws. It is thus the spirit of all living things that judges and not the heart of the Maker of life."

"And your point, Gradian?" RosMismar asked. "For I know you do not waste words on prattle. How do your thoughts affect us at this moment?"

Gradian responded, "Phulakee stated that had we remained here the Rebellion might have been contained. I disagree in this respect: except by brute force - which has never been an option for us - once discontent is publicly manifest, it will sweep innocent hearts until it has come to a finish. We could not have checked Chrusion's hand until he manifested his rebellion. By law, we could have taken no action until he had revealed himself.

"But, by that time, by the very fact that other hearts were now affected, any action taken against Chrusion might have been perceived as 'might makes right'. No, our active presence would not have prevented the Rebellion." He shook his finger. "Nor will it prevent such a thing from happening in the future."

"What then is your suggestion?" Phulakee asked. "It would be unkind to offer us a dilemma without providing a solution."

Gradian grinned, "I perceive that our captain here," he pointed toward RosMismar, "has already given this much thought and I think it is our reason for gathering at this place. Please allow me to digress for but a moment.

"The planet upon which we stand was once the greatest of all our territories. When it was decided to take some of Zoe's children to instruct them in our ways and give them knowledge in abundance, we chose this one place to be the center of all teaching. RosMismar's daughter, his own flesh and blood, Tolohe, was the first child to arrive here and this we did with her."

Gradian began to pace anew as he continued. "We helped her envision war and the cruel effects it would bring on her people. Where has there been a better pupil? And yet she, too, wearied over time, forgetting our warnings to remain ever vigilant. But we did not see it in her or any of the others.

"When we had concluded that our efforts had been sufficiently rewarded, we burned Lagandow in symbol of Zoe's children now being charged with the protection of the universe and as a warning for their own world. We congratulated each other on a job well done and departed to other worlds to carry on further pursuits.

"But the burning of Lagandow did not yield the positive results we had anticipated for the Seraphim did not understand the true reason for its destruction. As ages passed, their accounts of us and Lagandow became legends then mythical stories and finally little more than fanciful tales to tell babes on restless nights. We were soon forgotten by our Seraphim children, Tolohe even surrendering up to another the immortal gifts we gave to her.

"We now stand on the brink of a new age. This war of rebellion will end in success and ZoeStethos' heart will mend, but do we dare chance another such rebellion in the future? Will Zoe's heart mend a second time as well? I wish not to risk such a thing. So what, then? Do we choose to become masters over Zoe's children? She will allow us that, if we do so choose.

"No, I think not, for we cannot rule over people with wild hearts! We would restrain the laughter and joy that such hearts need in order to survive. Their joy would eventually fade and they would grow tired of life, seeking a way of escape from a prison controlling their hearts. If Zoe will not take up rulership over her children...and she has declined that role...then her children must."

Ysuah spoke up. "You tell us nothing new, Gradian. For six millennia, such preparations have been in the making. What is different about your concept?"

Raising his hand and extending his finger, Gradian replied, "This! We shall not abandon the universe as we once did, but neither shall we rule over the children of this place. Instead, we shall rule with them.

"First, we shall teach the children from the Realms Below all our ways. Those arrived here have our blood flowing within them. It will be an easy thing to draw them close to us, they already being our kindred. Then we shall select others from among Zoe's own...our own...who have proved themselves able and we shall change them through a rebirth and bring them into our immortal worlds, too.

"Second, we will make them incorruptible. We will plant within our children minds equal in strength to ours, unfaltering minds that cannot bend to the will of the heart. Yet they will still have Zoe's heart, with the ability to change and adapt as she continues to change and adapt. In this way, our children will never succumb to the whims of a wild heart, but they will still feel all things through it.

"Third, we will give them immortality such as is ours. They will be able to stand beside us in power and glory, do as we do and see as we see. Never will they become tired of duty, just as we never tire of duty. Never will they weary of service, but at all times will our children remain alert to what goes on about them. Forever will they be the watchers over men's hearts.

"Fourth, we shall rebuild Lagandow. But this time it will no longer be a clandestine planet where we carry on our teaching in secret. We will reveal to all living souls that Lagandow exists and, in time, all of Zoe's children will be invited to travel to this place to sit in the wisdom of eternity. We will also make this place the king's planet. As a gift to him, we shall hand it and all that is in it over to him.

"And Fifth, we will build for ourselves a city on this planet, one to which all living flesh shall have access. We shall openly reveal ourselves as brothers of Zoe's children, so that never will humans forget they have older siblings who care for them."

JabethHull excitedly added, "And we can erect Cities of Light in both realms. The new king can establish these even before he has attained the kingship. Thus can we, through prophets and seers, begin to teach men our ways at an early hour, even before the age of wickedness has passed."

"Yes! Yes!" exclaimed Contaniea. "We can even prepare this place for Zoe's grand festival when Michael is given over to the king. Indeed, we could grant immortality to all those gathered here on that day as our gift to them. What do you think? Does the plan work?"

Heads nodded in agreement, while others added comments and ideas. RosMismar smiled with satisfaction. He missed Lagandow. It would please him to give it a rebirth. He raised his arms to silence the gathering. When all had quieted, he addressed them. "The counsel of many is wise. We will have success, but we must be vigilant with haste. Many long days it took us to build this world. We only have but a few short years of the age of men to return its beauty. Call forth to the others. Tell them to come quickly for this will be a mighty undertaking."

RosMismar turned and looked out at the broken expanse, crossing his arms, nodding in satisfaction. "In less than the lifetime of a man from the Lower Realms we must reconstruct this star system as it was before. Can it be done? Yes, but it will not be easy. When complete, we shall bring our Zoe here and hide her away until all things are made new. Then we shall see... Then we shall see..."

* * *

Sirion sleepily stumbled into the communications room across from flight deck four. Crews had made hasty repairs so that ships and fighters could land for refueling or in event of an emergency, but little else. The aft hangar deck which serviced flight deck four was still sealed off, the dead remaining where they perished. The woman tried to push aside memories of her last encounter with the head mechanic just hours before battle, but her harsh words and uncalled-for threats still haunted her. She glanced toward the hangar's entry door, knowing that somewhere beyond it were the remains of the woman and her work crew.

"Major Patch!" a communications officer called to Sirion.

The officer's call jolted Sirion back to the moment and the reason for her visit here in the middle of the night. "Yes! Yes, Captain Jusenah, you called me about a message?"

Captain Jusenah replied, "Orders from HerpetonMnema, Colonel Saleuo... He says for you to deliver DTB 28 to Tringle Field. It's just east of the Spider's Lair about ten leagues. There you're to pick up TKR14 Golden Lady and bring it back to Sophia."

Sirion puzzled, asking, "Are you sure the message was for me? That's a hack driver's job. Besides, I thought the colonel was keeping his squadron on the planet until the surface fighting eased."

The captain shrugged, "I double-checked, ran the code twice. Didn't dare open a voice channel." She handed Sirion the decoded message. "I also ran a data comparison scan. Found a glitch in transmission, like when it ricochets off something. I rechecked it with ground control and they said you had been sent a message."

"You did all that because you found a glitch?" Sirion asked, more curious than concerned.

"Yes, Patch." The captain bent over her communication's table. "It's a common ploy of the enemy to send false messages by ricocheting transmissions off known communication channels, embedding their messages in with legitimate ones. It's a favorite trick with spies."

She turned back to Sirion, handing her the second reply, a much shorter note. "There is also a lot of chatter on the line right now, coming in from everywhere. That will also cause a glitch in the system. I routinely double-check any glitches that come in on my watch. Everything seems correct, and Golden Lady is one of Colonel Saleuo's fighters."

Captain Jusenah patted Sirion on the arm. "Major, if you're uneasy, I can do another check, but it might be some time before I can get through to the colonel...you know, low priority and all. I'll be happy to try." Smiling, Jusenah added, "You're a damn good pilot, Patch...better with that one eye than most who have both. I'm sorry you got grounded with your last injury. Maybe Colonel Salueo has changed his mind and wants you back on the roster."

Sirion looked at the DTB, asking, "Is that ship combat-ready?"

Captain Jusenah confirmed, "She's armed and ready for combat."

Sirion thought about it a moment. "Captain, I think I'll chance it. After all, it's only thirty minutes to the depot. The skies are filled with our ships, and besides..." she pointed at the DTB, "that's not some helpless toy I'll be flying."

"All right then, Major," the captain replied as she handed Sirion some papers. "This is your entry route that came with your orders. Takes you off to the west and north of Memphis and then sweeps you over HerpetonMnema. Orders say to stick close to it. I hear there's some heavy action going on still. Could get yourself shot down by our own if you're not careful."

Sirion picked up her duffel bag and began to leave.

"Patch!" the captain called out.

Stopping, Sirion turned around. "Yes, Jus?"

"Where's your lanner?" Jusenah asked.

Sirion hesitated, remembering her last encounter with Terey. "I... er... lost it and hadn't bothered to requisition another."

"Here, take this with you." Jusenah pulled a holstered handgun from a drawer and handed it to Sirion. "You can give it back to me when you return. This came from a man I made acquaintance with a while back when I visited the Navy Depot at Oros before the war...fella name of 'Garlock'. He made this a gift to me, said it was a great equalizer... called it a '45'. Take it just in case."

Sirion thanked her, hefting the weapon, commenting, "It's awful heavy."

Jusenah agreed. "Shot it once...near broke my wrist. Garlock said one bullet will lift a man right off his horse. Said you have eight chances to do it, too. Just squeeze the trigger fast as you want."

The captain helped Sirion strap the weapon on. When finished, she patted her on the shoulder. "There, you have the power of eight jillson bolts packed in one neat bundle and two more bundles on the belt just in case you need them. Hope you don't have to. Still, it'll help you stay in your seat."

Sirion thanked Captain Jusenah and kissed her lips 'good-bye' then hurried to the fighter, climbing aboard.

After checking the gages and controls, Sirion gave 'thumbs up' to signal she was ready. Turbines roared as air was sucked from the chamber with a snap and a hiss as the sealed doors opened. In moments, Sophia was little more than a distant, glittering spec lost in a sea of stars.

Sirion drifted across the southern pole of MueoPoros. At forty leagues above, the frozen ice sheets contrasted so dramatically against the ocean blue and forest green, with a smattering of brown and tan where deserts sprouted on this and that side of spiraling mountains. 'So peaceful from here...' she thought. 'Is this a fantasy vision of the way things should be or is this reality and all the carnage and violence below just a bad dream?'

In a few minutes, the lumbering DTB was drifting north on its flight path. Looking through the canopy, Sirion could see the ancient city of Memphis some sixty leagues away, her mind wandering to her younger days spent there. Ahead were distant, billowing clouds that reached over thirty thousand feet above the snowy landscape. Dropping into them, she studied her coordinates. In a few seconds there would begin a sweeping arc east, taking the ship north of the city and then over HerpetonMnema to Tringle Field.

Sirion had just broken clear of the clouds and was about to start her turn when she glanced into the mirror. To her shock and dismay, the major saw two Depoues 49's streak from the clouds in hot pursuit. Before she could react, they were upon her. The lead Depoues 49 lined up on the DTB's tail, delivering a direct hit with a static cannon.

Gages blew apart, sending tiny shards of glass in every direction as sparks and electrical charges shot back and forth across the cockpit. Sirion's protective flight suit prevented any serious injury. As the cabin filled with acrid smoke, it continued to provide her fresh air to breath.

The DTB did not tumble from the sky. Although uncontrollable, the machine's robust engine continued to push the aged fighter ever onward. Sirion waited, helpless. The enemy could easily flame her now – a good kill, too – right out in the open, for those on the ground to see. But there was no second shot. Instead, the two Depoues 49's parted and took up position on each side of Sirion.

The pilot on Sirion's right motioned her to sit quiet. Ever so slowly, the two enemy fighters slid in toward the DTB. Immediately, Sirion realized her ship was disabled intentionally. They had been waiting for her, lurking in the clouds until she arrived. Now they would steer her ship by using their wings to apply pressure on the DTB's wings. They certainly were not interested in an old DTB, so she must be the prize, but why? The major was down, but not out. This prize came with a price. They would have to work to get her.

DTB's were originally designed for short landings on seaborne ships. They still carried parachutes in case of emergencies on improvised runways. The fighters were often used to deliver supplies near fighting fronts. Sirion yanked on the manual release. In one eye-popping instant, the DTB slammed nearly to a stop, killing the engine while disintegrating the plane's emergency landing chute, and began plummeting from the sky.

Caught by surprise, the Depoues 49's shot into the distance. By the time they managed to turn around, the DTB had disappeared into low clouds. They raced through them, hoping to see another parachute floating toward the snowy forest. Instead, much to their dismay, angry black clouds of smoke raced up to greet them. There was no sign of the pilot.

Sirion had waited until the last second before blowing the canopy and hitting the ejection button on her pilot's seat. At less than five hundred feet, her chute opened. She hit the tops of evergreen trees doing better than sixty miles an hour. As the woman hoped, the parachute caught in the trees, being pulled down into the forest, out of sight, slowing her landing. Added to this was her good fortune at having missed the huge tree trunks, only smashing through evergreen boughs.

The battered pilot's seat wedged against an old tree, having taken the blows that would have easily injured or possibly killed Sirion. As it was, the woman was badly scratched and bruised. Groaning in pain while struggling to extricate herself from the tangle of harness and twisted parachute cords, she finally broke free, tumbling from the seat to the icy ground with a thud.

"Ohhhhh...!" Sirion cried then lay there to gather her senses.

The roar of the Depoues 49's making a return pass over the crash sight spurred Sirion into action. Staggering to her feet, she grabbed the emergency supply pack located in the bottom of the pilot's seat, taking out a survival knife and cutting two lengths of parachute line. After coiling them up and stuffing them in the pack, Sirion darted away.

As she ran, looking to put as much distance between her and the wreckage as possible, Sirion pondered her next move. She wanted to find higher ground, a place where she could watch for a rescue ship. After all, her orders had been clear for her not to delay. Flight Control at Tringle Field would be expecting her soon, her departure having been reported to them. 'Find a hole to hide in and wait.' When they were near, she would set off her distress beacon.

What Sirion did not know was that no report had ever been sent. In fact, no one on Sophia knew she was missing. At that moment there was excitement and confusion aboard the carrier. The next shift communications officer had just discovered Captain Jusenah sprawled face down across her desk, a knife in her back, driven through her heart. All that night's transmissions were missing or destroyed.

The major hurried on for another four miles, stopping only long enough to catch a breath and grab something quick to eat. Sundown was hurrying its way to nightfall when Sirion found herself at the edge of the forest. Off to the west stretched a wide flatland filled with thorny brush and scrub-trees. There was little to protect her from prying eyes, yet the destination she sought was some two leagues' west on a low, tree-covered summit.

Hunkering down, Sirion decided to wait for darkness. She found a fallen trunk of a giant evergreen to her liking, allowing a wide range of view while hiding her completely. The woman secreted herself under the log until one could only see her ghostly shadow. If the enemy found her tracks, there would be little she could do. She hoped they would be long near the fighter, trying to find her body there. By the time they discovered the pilot's seat and parachute, her rescue should be accomplished.

Nightfall was not merciful other than the darkness it provided, with temperatures dropping quickly into the low teens Fahrenheit as the winds picked up. Before Sirion had managed half the distance to the summit, a nor'easter hit. At long last, knowing she could not continue in this raging tempest, the woman surrendered to the storm and burrowed into the snow to keep from freezing.

Sometime around midnight the winds eased. Despite the heavy snowstorm, Sirion believed it was time to move on. Among items in the emergency pack were two day's rations, chemical heaters to warm the food, and two thermo-blankets. Already she had used half the heaters to warm her body as she hid under the blankets. She dare not risk using more. Cutting slits in the blankets, Sirion slipped them over her head then tied them snug, using some of the parachute cord. One corner of a blanket was cut away to make a hood. When finished, the major renewed her quest for the distant mountain.

Daylight found Sirion crawling up the steep rise of a rocky slope. She had made the lower parts of the summit, but felt it impossible to travel further. The woman's fingers were numb, having no gloves. Sirion ached not only because of the landing but also from stumbling into a rocky ravine the night before during the height of the storm, her face bloodied from a jagged cut across her forehead and down past her cheek. Her nose felt broken and once again the girl had put a tooth through her lower lip.

Near the point of collapse, Sirion discovered a narrow gully that twisted its way through a grove of old beech and ash trees. Broken limbs from dead beech trees littered the ground. Throwing caution to the wind, the major gathered up dry bark from the undersides of the limbs and soon had a tiny fire burning. All that day she fed the little blaze, tying one blanket across the east end of the gully in hopes of hiding from prying eyes.

The storm did not diminish that day or the next. Strong, gusting winds returned the following night as the temperature plunged toward zero. This did not deter Sirion. When night arrived, she gathered up her belongings and moved up the gully and into the deep woods. By morning she had made camp about two-thirds up the summit under a well-hidden outcropping in a low cliff. From here, she could watch for rescue...that is, when the nor'easter eased.

Sirion huddled next to the dying fire, wrapped in one blanket while the other protected her from the biting north wind. She had fashioned a pair of mittens from some material cut from the liner of the supply pack, sewing them with the housewife contained in the pack.

There was little to do now but wait for the storm to end. Sirion munched a few crumbs in the fading light. She had carefully hoarded her two day supply of food to make it last for a week, feeling it easier to be hungry with hope than starving in despair. There should be little to fear with the enemy until after this storm ended. Even then, the chances of her being discovered were slight, being well over eight miles from the crash site.

Sirion finished eating and leaned her head back against the rock wall. Tomorrow... yes, tomorrow they might be able to start the search. She felt in her pocket for the distress beacon. Fingering it brought some security. The major closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a speedy rescue, feeling secure in her little hideaway.

The woman did not know just how lucky she really was. The enemy was well aware she had not perished in the crash, being prevented from searching because the same tempest burst upon them without warning. They were forced to hole up in their tents, waiting for the weather to again reveal the faint signal giving them Sirion's location. The storm! Oh, how frustrating this rotten storm!

Her second piece of luck would arrive after the storm had passed in the form of two sojourners seeking out the secrets of the northern mountains. They would decoy the enemy just long enough to provide Sirion with a rescue...one that would also save her from the enemy within.

* * *

"There, there, stop your whimpering. It doesn't do for a captain to be seen fussing this way." Merna gently unwrapped the last of the bandages from Ishtar's face. When finished, she studied the surgeon's work, smiling, "You're coming along quite well, my Dear. You will be out and about in no time."

Ishtar mumbled something while shaking her head then grimaced from pain. Moving her jaw was not wise. Bones on the left side of the girl's face had been pulverized when PalaHar's command car was destroyed. Doctors did their best, considering the conditions they were working under, reassembling her face with wires and screen mesh, but they did not tend with making her beautiful.

For the children of the First Realm, the long wars had taught them that, given time, a person's body would heal itself. What was needed most was to keep the person alive and help them become functional. But to a child of the Lower Realms, and only eighteen to boot, her disfigurement was unbearable and everlasting...and Ishtar was noticeably disfigured.

Crushed bones made Ishtar's face sag on its left side. With the vast number of seriously wounded, the medical team took little time to neatly stitch the girl's non life-threatening injuries together. They were also forced to use pigskin to cover the missing scalp on the side of her head. Flesh underneath was just beginning to regrow skin. It might take years before Ishtar fully healed.

To add to the emotional stress this caused Ishtar was the girl's constant, gnawing hunger. All food had to be taken in the form of liquid through a straw extending well down the child's throat. Ishtar loved the taste of food and ate colossal amounts when given opportunity. The pain of swallowing was so severe, she was down over two stone in weight to about ninety pounds.

Ishtar had resisted Merna's removal of her bandages, not wishing anyone to see what lay beneath. Merna refused to listen, telling her that the wrappings were hindering the healing process. The girl's heart ached with shame at the thought of others seeing her this way. She sat quietly after Merna's counsel, tears welling in her remaining eye and running down her right cheek.

It was excusable for the girl to view herself as the lone victim of a violent attack, but the sad truth was that she was considered fortunate. Converted hangars and depots tucked under the PrasiaOdous Mountains were overwhelmed with the ruined and broken relics of war. More came every day, slowly filling one massive cavern after another.

There is little need to describe the horrible results of war here. Suffice it to say, the glory of the charge into battle and death as is often depicted in your favorite stories is far from the reality of warfare. Carnage on the field is often indescribable but, in most cases, the majority of those torn asunder do not die.

And then there were the invisible wounds. Brain injuries were common, moreso because of the great number of missiles and bombs used. The trauma of battle left many with shattered nerves, causing phantom illnesses and emotional disorders. Merna had snapped in combat, but was recovering quickly. Others were not so fortunate, languishing for months or even years in secure institutions until they healed. Indeed, to this day, with over a hundred millennia passed, this is one malady that still haunts many a brave veteran.

What added to the misery of so many was the Navy's inability to transport the seriously wounded away from the combat zone. The PrasiaOdous Mountains were constantly targeted by the enemy. Missiles rained down at any hour of the day or night, making sojourns outside dangerous, especially for convalescing patients. Day after dismal day, thousands languished in cramped, dimly lit caves with little comfort or even a curtain to provide privacy.

Merna did her best to assuage Ishtar's anguish over her injuries. She patted the girl on the arm, smiling, "Come now, Captain, the doctors have told you that in a little while you'll be as good as new. It's not like the old days when our bodies carried scars for the remainder of our lives. It will take some time, but we'll bounce back." She squeezed Ishtar's hand, promising, "It will happen...it will." It was obvious that Merna's encouragement was not successful. She sighed, hugging her bony, half-starved friend.

At that instant, someone called out, "Captain Ishtar, adjutant to the king's council?"

Merna and Ishtar craned their necks to see the person behind the voice. She smiled, extending her left hand in salutation. "Captain MadeiaDefonniah, Twelfth Armored Battalion, Winehardt's Division."

Although still bandaged, the women could see that Captain Madiea had but two fingers remaining on that hand. Ishtar glanced over to see that Madiea had no right hand at all. In fact, her arm was missing to just above the elbow. She was also severely burned, her uniform hiding many of those disfigurements, but damage to her face was clearly visible. Grafts of pigskin covered many of the more serious burns, but others were exposed to the air...better for healing, the doctors had told her. What little remained of the woman's scalp was shaved, exposing hundreds of stitches that closed ghastly wounds.

Madiea grinned, gaps showing from several missing teeth, "My pleasure to meet you..."

Ishtar stared, doing nothing at first. This woman...if that's what she really was...looked like something from one of the girl's nightmares. It took her a moment to regain her deportment and extend her hand.

Madiea peered into the girl's face, observing the shock and horror she saw reflected toward her and grinned again. "Takes a while to get used to... Not the prettiest girl at the ball, but still got two feet to get me there. Well, one and part of another... Both still work fine, though." She stared down at her feet, shaking her head. "Lost both my legs during the Third Megiddo War." She looked back at Ishtar. "But the worst was what happened on Stargaton in the last war... Better to leave it for another day. I'm here on business and have little time for pleasantries."

Merna stood and gave the captain a gentle hug, introducing herself, after which she asked if she wished to be alone with Ishtar.

Madiea waved her hand. "No, no, Sergeant Merna. My business is also with you."

Merna was surprised. Pointing at herself, she asked, "Me? Are you sure?"

The captain nodded then suggested they find more private surroundings, asking Merna's assistance with Ishtar. When ready, the three hobbled toward the cavern's exit.

As they made their way along one of the mountain's labyrinth of tunnels, Madiea bantered on about little things. Catching Ishtar's eye - the girl was attempting to be polite, but found a need to stare at this stranger - the captain changed the subject.

"Captain Ishtar, allow me please to address the issue pressing your mind. Do I like the way I appear at the moment? No! I've wept many tears over my disfigurement, still do. And I ache, too. The medication I take relieves much of the pain, but" she shrugged, "it's all part of the game of war.

"I am a veteran of many wars, starting with the Second Megiddo War, going through the Ashdod wars, Three Hundred Years' War, and into the Great War. Few of my brothers and sisters who joined with me in storming Mingdoll's Castle, my baptism into fire, are with us now. Of the eight thousand in my division...Army commands were much smaller then...less than twelve hundred are still alive today.

"Of those veterans from early wars who have continued to fight, only a handful have not received one or more serious injuries...especially soldiers in my line of duty. Several have been near death at least once. But since their time was not yet come to pass into the Field of the Minds, they returned to the contest.

"I'm a tanker. Been a tanker for three hundred years. This is the sixth tank been blown out from under me. When I get fixed up, I'll go back to a tank again. It's my job. I like it."

She saw the obvious question on Ishtar's face. "Why do we do it? Good question. After all, we are a volunteer army and as such can resign at any time. I have contemplated it more than once. When my closest companion, Yahveen, was killed at Troas, I nearly went out of my mind. That was twenty three hundred years ago...many of your life-times."

Madiea frowned, "I still hurt over him. On lonely nights, I often dream I'm swaddled in his loving arms, protecting me from danger." She blinked to hide a tear. "Well, back to the subject. Only a handful of the old-timers have abandoned the field of honor. Usually after one has mended, the person will return to take up the sword again and again.

"Why? I've asked myself that question many times. The only answer I have is that I must. My brothers and sisters who are no longer with me have already given their all. I still live. Therefore, I must carry on the battle for those who cannot. My time may come tomorrow or the next day, or I may end up again under the surgeon's knife to be put back together. But I cannot forsake them...never will."

Madiea peered into Ishtar's face and smiled as she brushed her fingers across the girl's cheek. "Your expression tells me many tales. I see that you have traveled several roads in a short time. Tell me, are you not the child of destiny who is to bring to nothing Legion and his house?"

Merna stopped up short and replied, her voice almost a whisper, "The child's destiny is not a subject of publicity, the king and her council wishing to keep it quiet. How is it that you know of this matter?"

"I told her!" Alynnou answered, overhearing the conversation as she approached. "The good captain, being intelligent and inquisitive, guessed early on that Ishtar was not only an off-worlder but being on the king's council, she was obviously an important person." She offered her salutations, hugging each of the women and placing a gentle kiss on their lips.

Such public, casual expression was new to Ishtar and she was still troubled by it. Suddenly, her attention focused on Alynnou's other statement. Excited, the girl tried to speak, mumbling some incoherent sounds.

Alynnou hushed the girl, raising a finger to her own lips and winking. She then turned to the others. "Colonel ChohfEhzehr is waiting in his office. Would you all please follow me?"

Colonel ChohfEhzehr's office reflected the makeshift, overcrowded conditions found on the PrasiaOdous military bases. A room some sixteen feet square, hewn out of solid rock, had a front partition of little more than batten and flimsy pressboard. Passing through the opened doorway, one found a maze of cobbled desks, many made from packing crates.

The colonel's personal desk was tucked in the back of the room. To make it there, the four women worked their way around six other officers and adjutants, all busy tending to the colonel's business. Adding to the confusion, a number of other officers were dodging in and out of the room on different errands.

When Colonel Chohf spied Alynnou, he stood and motioned her and the others over. Grinning, he saluted and took each of the women's hands, bowing with every handshake, cheefully welcoming them. "Hello! Hello!" I am so pleased to see you all. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

Merna found a crate to use as a makeshift chair and helped Ishtar sit. The others remained standing but at ease. The colonel sat and after introducing himself came right to the point. "I do not know just how much you are all aware of what command desires to accomplish here, I mean in this region under our control. Well, it is command's intent to build a series of cities underground with factories, farms, and good living conditions. When finished, or at least fully established...for I doubt we will be finished in the PrasiaOdous for some time...we...this region will be fully self-sustaining."

The colonel started playing with a pencil, doodling on a notepad. "Most noticeably you have seen the Navy's supply depots and dry-docks being hurried along, but there is more... much more already being accomplished. Two of our...Command's paramount priorities are to supply the needs of the many wounded and to become self-sustaining regarding our food production." He waved his hand. "Conversion machines that produce the various flavored substitutes for real food made from protein, carbohydrates, and all of the other wonderful ingredients that can come from a can will not serve our long-term needs. We need farms to grow real food."

Another colonel entered the room, asking to speak with Colonel Chohf for a moment. While Ishtar remained sitting, the others stepped back. Captain Madiea leaned over and whispered in Merna's ear, "He is really a very sweet fellow, but lonely I think. Seems he doesn't get a lot of casual company." She shook her head. "It's a sorta' an out-of-the-way place here, you know."

The other officer concluded his business and quickly departed. Colonel Chohf took up where he had left off. "Food is so much better when it is grown in the soil. And fresh meat is always more of a delight than the frozen or canned or any of the other processes used to preserve food. We need to have good, soil-grown food right here...I mean in this complex of cities.

"What command wants to do is combine the therapeutic nature of horticulture...it is a great cure for depression and listlessness... satisfies something in our hearts and all...and the production of needed foodstuffs for the military on MueoPoros. That brings me to my reason for asking you all here.

"As you well know, the Army and all the branches of the military have attained numerous victories here on MueoPoros, but at a very high cost in casualties. The Convalescence Corps is in need of officers to help direct the wounded soldiers as they recover and return to former duties."

Ishtar attempted to remain astute and attentive, but the colonel's mannerisms and speech, the many strange words he used, lulled the girl into lazy daydreams. 'Convalescence', 'protein', 'carbohydrates', 'horticulture' to name a few, confused the child to no end. Growing up in an age when most people still believed that sicknesses were caused by evil spirits and that having enough food to eat was considered a luxury by many, Ishtar had no idea what the colonel was talking about.

The young captain had been in this new world for such a short time. Stories told to her by Symeon, her uncle, when she was a child growing up were far from the reality yet encountered in this place. This wondrous heaven of bliss, being next to God and singing songs of joy with the Cherubs and angels had been a fool's dream at best.

Ishtar's mind drifted off to the rich fields of grain that grew along the river near Ephesus and to the great harbor where every ship in the known world would eventually dock at its quays. She dreamed of riding on her father's shoulders as he carried her down the street near their home. And the smell of mother's cooking! No one made better pastries.

An ache grew in the girl's heart. She missed her mother so. Ishtar accepted the fact that her world ended some two thousand years ago, but to her, it had been less than one year...one year. She glanced at Merna, still nursing several injuries. But the woman was so beautiful, much more so than the last time they had been together in the Second Realm. That's right, Merna was very much pregnant the day she died in the lions' pit.

(Author's note _: I would like to interject something privately shared with me by this woman of great renown while gathering information for this book. Ishtar confided that this melancholy episode was but one of many that plagued her young life in her new home. Many a time she would have traded all that was to be hers for one day the way it used to be. Even now, whenever possible, she slips away to the Realms Below to spend fleeting moments with her father and mother. To her, her real home will always be on the shores of the Cayster River_.)

Just how long the girl daydreamed she didn't know, but when the conversation turned to that of General PalaHar and Colonel Treston, she perked right up. Colonel Chohf mentioned funeral preparations being made for the general on EdenEsonbar, after which he requested that Alynnou and Alba remain with the others until Colonel Treston returned.

The girl sat up quickly, excitedly mumbling a question. The colonel stared at her, shaking his head, apologizing for not understanding her. Captain Madiea spoke up. "Colonel Chohf, I believe that Captain Ishtar is anxious to learn the fate of her personal mentor and overseer, seeing she has heard nothing of him since the battle."

Ishtar eagerly nodded, attempting a smile at Madiea. Colonel Chohf hesitated, looking at Alynnou as if seeking advice. She nodded approvingly.

The colonel cleared his throat. "There is really very little for me to tell you at this moment. The latest information concerning Colonel Treston was received from a command post a day or so after The Battle of the Hatorian Plain. That is its official name, but I think Chesse's Charge of the Golden Knights will be longer remembered. It was a turning point for this war, you know. Legion has been driven back on all fronts and..."

Colonel Chohf caught himself and returned to the point of discussion. "Colonel Treston met up with a sergeant, name of...let me see, oh,yes, Daisho...DaishoTalwar of some security division and the two departed for parts unknown, although I have been told it was to the north, past Memphis."

Madiea spoke up, shaking her head. "What was the colonel's reason for going there? The Jahouk Mountains are forbidden lands and have been for ages long before my birth. They say that only the Keepers of the Gate could enter there and live. The older children spoke of an ancient race of people...the first children of our Mother...that reside there. A child's story I'm sure, but..."

Lowering her voice, Alynnou warned, "What I say to you must not go beyond this meeting. The Jahouk Mountains are indeed a special place, but not deadly as you have said. No one can enter there and not be forever changed. I will tell you more, but do not ask me how I know these things."

Alynnou glanced around the room. The colonel, sensing her concern, ordered the others to leave, asking two officers to stand the door. "Lieutenant, I promise to remain silent concerning this matter and I expect the same from all of us here. Please continue."

She went on, "Most of you know the history of Memphis. I will risk boring the two of you so that our good captain and sergeant here" she pointed at Ishtar and Merna, "will be informed.

"Memphis is one of the oldest cities in our known universe. It has been said that the walled fortress similar in appearance to the ancient palace on EdenEsonbar was found already constructed when discovered by our first explorers. The name 'Memphis' means 'City Built Without Hands', which was derived from an even more ancient term, 'The Cherub's Eye'.

"The most ancient of Ancients, Tolohe and PalaHar, were among the first explorers who reached this planet. It was said that they, along with a few others, braved the threatening cloud mass covering the Jahouk Mountains and found a pass that delivered them to a world beyond the edge of the universe, a land where time and space do not exist as we know it.

"The remainder of the exploration team who did not accompany the others into the mountains became concerned for the well-being of their companions when they failed to quickly return. Weeks and months became years. Finally, the majority returned to EdenEsonbar to make report, fearing the demise of their brothers and sisters. Although Mother appeared unconcerned, she refused to speak of the matter or make explanation. Some ten millennia passed before news of the explorers' return reached EdenEsonbar.

"With fervency unknown among the children, the returnees began building Memphis into a great educational center, it eventually becoming renowned as such. Tolohe returned to EdenEsonbar, emphasizing the need for all of the children to travel to MueoPoros to be taught by the Keepers of the Gate, the children who had journeyed into the Jahouk Mountains."

Alynnou frowned, "'Chrusion'...that was Asotos' name before the Rebellion... Chrusion did not approve of handing over so much power to these people, fearing an eventual coup of some sort. Tolohe assured him his fears were groundless, inviting him to journey with her into the Jahouk Mountains and see for himself the secrets hidden there. He did come as far as the city, but refused to go further." She raised her hand. "It has been said that only those invited by the Spirit could find the needed courage for passage into the mountains.

"The issue of the level of prominence Memphis was to play in the lives of the children led to an eventual schism between Tolohe and Chrusion. Mother did not get publicly involved – it was not her way – but she did manage a reconciliation between the two. Still, a rift continued. Tolohe officially remained royal consort, but Chrusion publicly showered his affection on Anna to the point of giving her the title 'Consort Divine', the proxy for Mother at the opening of the festivals."

She raised a hand, warning, "There are living forces of mind and heart who do not play by the rules under which we live! They watch from afar to judge the worlds of men. Do not tempt their generosity by betraying sacred words to others' ears! Eye has not yet seen nor ear heard the wonders waiting for the loyal children taught by the Keepers of the Gate."

Madiea asked, "Are you one of the Keepers of the Gate?"

Alynnou answered with a riddle. "The sun always rises in the east and settles in the west, but the wind chooses its own path. It is on the darkest of nights that the blaze burns brightest, and the coldest day shall create the warmest fire. You ask a question I cannot answer, for, should your ears tingle with all knowledge, the world's ending would be near. Better to lie hidden in a brier patch when the hunter is afoot than to stand in a tree observing the archer."

She paused a moment, allowing her riddle to sink in, and then continued. "I am a child of the First Age, little sister to the wind and traveling companion of the tempest. My Mother you well know, but my Father is secret to all, as is the case with all the children of that age. Strange were those early days, and what are mere fables to you were ages of springtime and excitement for me. To you, the Tarezabarians were little more than myth until their return a few seasons ago. But for me they were lovers and companions. Length of years and time teaches a person many things...

"Now, listen and learn. The city of Memphis grew in renown among the children of the First Age. Thousands upon thousands visited, seeking knowledge from the seers and sages dwelling there over countless millennia. Let me inform you, the First Age lasted many times that of the Second Age. In comparison, for the benefit of everyone here, the Third Age - about six thousand years old - would equal only a few minutes on the clock of the earliest age.

"Over the countless millennia of that age, knowledge became abundant until uncanny wisdom was considered second nature among the children. 'Come and let us learn the ways of the North' became a proverbial saying among us. No one man or woman acted as master over another. We stood upon the edge of the universe as gods in our own right.

"The Jahouk Mountains, ever clouded in gloom and mist, drew an occasional visitor. In ones or twos, pilgrims visiting Memphis would harden themselves and make the journey to the roots of the mountains. Most would quail at the lightning and rumbling thunder hidden within the clouds. They would turn back, being satisfied at having seen the great mountains from a distance. But a few braved the storm and disappeared into the gloom."

Merna blurted out, "Did you brave the storm?!"

Alynnou asked in return, "Did you brave the cats, seeking the gift of heaven? No, courage cannot be measured by what we do, but by what we would be willing to do. I only did what I was willing to do."

Merna shuddered at the thought of being pushed into the pit of howling animals. She remembered little else other than the shock and initial pain. Would she have jumped if it had been asked of her? She would have to save her daughter, almost did.

Alynnou continued with her account. "LikeTolohe and PalaHar, thousands of years often passed before people returned, coming out from the cloud bank. They looked much as they had when departing. Even their garments and sandals were the very same. Most journeyed home and took up their previous lives, saying little of their adventures. A few remained at Memphis to instruct other children who came to learn the ways of the mountains.

"It was said that all who entered the clouds were forever changed, and I believe it so. There was a soberness that shone in their eyes that others could not understand. It was as if they had seen a dark and foreboding future - a future not unlike the one that exists now – and in some way they controlled the destiny of that future. They said nothing to the others but on the eve of each new moon would gather together secretly to keep the memory of their visions alive lest they forget and bring the universe to its eventual doom.

"The end of the First Age was marked by a bright, burning star, a supernova which could be seen in the eastern night sky over Palace City. Its fire burned bright for seven thousand years. During that time, a pall of despair hung heavy upon hearts of Lowenah's children - a dread you might say, a dread of uncertainty. This period of time was so noteworthy that historians recorded it in the history books, referring to the rumored cause as the 'burning of Lagandow'.

"There were other rumors afoot at that time. One such rumor was that the last of the race of Mother's first children was abandoning the universe and leaving behind a warning of an uncertain future if we children failed to respect and adore our Mother. How near the truth they were, for it had been said that should the Second Age end in rebellion and murder it would lead to seven thousand years of death and destruction. We have recently passed six thousand of those years.

"The beginning of the Second Age was marked by a dramatic upturn in the birthing of children by Lowenah, our mother. The older children said nothing but we noticed some kind of an emotional change come over her. She almost obsessed with a need to birth children. It was as if her life depended on it. In a short time, at least by the former standards, the population of EdenEsonbar had mushroomed.

"Mother changed in other ways, too. She became more introspective and reserved, as if she were withdrawing into herself. She took to secluding herself in her private palace. When the days of festivals arrived, Mother would lead the grand celebration as before, but she permitted Anna to fill in for her with Chrusion in the opening and closing ceremonies. The older children would watch her search faces for something - just what, we did not know."

In sadness, Alynnou slowly shook her head. "We did not delve into the matter the way good children should have. We let Mother's passive explanation for her quiet moods go, being more concerned for ourselves. I do believe Chrusion's actions were hurting her even then. It took a child from the latter part of the Second Age to break the spell chaining her heart. Michael loved our mother in a way we all should have but didn't."

Alynnou apologized, "Sorry, I'm wandering. As the Second Age hurried forward, Lagandow and the First Age became little more than dim memories even for the children born in the beginning age. Eventually, machines were developed that could see into deep space like the Ancients. Soon navigation of the portals in the galaxy, even into the Middle Realm became common-place.

"Memphis, being near Eden's Gate, the greatest portal known to the children, became a hub for inter-portal travelers. Spaceports, distribution centers then theaters, gymnasiums and grand dwellings grew up around the old city, dwarfing it. Indeed, tall buildings soon commanded the skyline, hiding the old palace from view.

"Few of the children of the Second Age had any interest in the stories of the Keepers of the Gate who remained in the city. Oh yes, the Jahouk Mountains remained covered in smoke and mist, but after the burning of Lagandow there were no more thunders and lightning. The aura of mystery had departed them. Eventually the children forgot the real meaning of Memphis. Even those who had witnessed the secrets of the Jahouk drifted to sleep or isolated themselves in distant worlds.

"The Rebellion brought to an end the great experiment of man's independent dominion over the universe and ushered in the Third Age in a very violent way." Alynnou pointed at Merna. "Shortly after the global flood that ended the first age of your old planet, Legion, Chrusion's chief lieutenant, swooped down on Memphis and took it for his capital city. The few Keepers of the Gate not slaughtered by him fled into the Jahouk Mountains, or so it has been said.

"Eyewitness accounts relate that Legion sent a large army after them. Possibly thirty or forty thousand soldiers marched from Memphis, Godenn and Salak at their head. They entered the clouds and smoke, disappearing for several weeks. When they returned, none could remember having entered the mountains.

"Those who lost only their memories were the lucky ones. Few had power to resist the madness, having enough inner strength to control it. For many, madness gradually consumed their minds. They began babbling on about witches and demons and every other such abomination. Those people eventually abandoned Memphis or were driven away by Legion. These castaways established the first of the outer colonies populated by those who became known as 'Stasis'."

With that, Alynnou stopped her tale. Madiea spoke up, asking, "So how does this Colonel Treston fit into all of this? And why have you chosen us for the revealing of such secrets?"

Alynnou leaned forward, answering in a near whisper, "The power of Lagandow has been reborn! Its strength increases each day. The secrets of the Jahouk Mountains will soon be revealed. The Cherubs have returned and they bring new life to their children, the Seraphim."

Everyone began to chatter excitedly. Alynnou motioned them silent. "Do you not realize who you are?" She pointed toward Merna and Ishtar. "You are the immortals of prophecy, come to save us from ourselves. You are the new Keepers of the Gate! You will accomplish what we did not have the heart to carry out. You will bring to nothing this universe. In your hands rest the souls of all living things."

Merna was bewildered. "But how?!"

Alynnou extended her hand, shaking her finger. "Because one of your kind has sealed a covenant with a Seraphim of old. 'For the last shall become first, and they shall heal the soul of the dying and the lame, and in the holy mountain they will lift up a sword in order to bring to a finish what was started in secret. And down the great Dragon will be hurled, the one who is taunting us day and night'.

"My people are like the sun, constant and predictable. Your kind are like the wind. What you will do, no one can guess. Your kind will light our darkened path and warm our chilled hearts. Your kind are the hunters, hiding in the brier patch. You do not wait for the archer, but go in search of him. Your kind are the wind and tempest." She pointed at herself. "My kind are your sisters and consorts.

"The hour of Asotos' demise has come. It is now only a matter of time until he is driven from our realm. You and those of your kind here with us shall accomplish this great thing. Your Treston rides even now to destroy what was planted so long ago by the Wicked Snake. Satan's seed will not live another fortnight."

Colonel Chohf spoke up. "Report was made of this Colonel Treston that he carried two weapons, strange and full of power. One was a rifle, ordinary in appearance, but resistant to another's touch. It was also reported the he had in his possession a certain sword belonging to an Ancient...VanGoddawin, I believe."

Alynnou moaned in sadness as tears welled up in her eyes. "Then VanGoddawin is no more. Alas, the hour is later than I have understood, for 'Ysuah' is the name of his sword and it seeks war and destruction. Colonel Treston does not ride without purpose. Battle in the mountains is at hand."

She shook her head. "I wonder over the sergeant who's in his company. She is not a child of the First Age, of that I'm sure. It is not by chance she's with the colonel, but for good or ill, I cannot tell. This is certain...her fate is tied up with the colonel's."

Alynnou shuddered as a chill swept across her shoulders. "I perceive that soon shall the prophecy of that sword be fulfilled. 'Taught by the demons and raised from the depths, the wrath of the serpent shall smite the Dragon's spawn. And what is righteous shall return to the darkness to strike the wicked.' Our world waits upon a moment, a bridge to hope or destruction. The actions of one man will determine that outcome."

Fondling the gold pendant hanging from her neck, Alynnou closed tear-filled eyes, her heart aching with dread and uncertainty.

* * *

Morning had delivered a bright winter sun to a cold, cloudless sky, revealing a world of snow drifts mounded twenty feet high. Sudden gusts of bitter wind created snow devils dancing across frozen oceans of ice, adding to the stark loneliness of this empty land.

Daisho crawled back under the boughs of a giant hemlock tree into the quiet grove. The wind still moaned outside the hidden forest walls but in here, even with no fire, it felt more comfy and secure. After checking the horses, she dug her saddlebags out of the snow and hurried back to her and Treston's little makeshift camp.

Using their remaining chemical heaters to melt a little cheese on the last of Azriela's biscuits and to warm some tea, she sidled up to Treston, handing him some of the morsels. "Here you go, Colonel. Eat up, Sir. That's the end of the vittles. We'll need to find more a'fore the day's out."

Treston thanked Daisho for her kindness and then growled, "Food's aplenty around us. Next bastard we find will be our supper!"

Daisho shuddered. She didn't quite know whether to believe the man or not. The colonel had become sullen as their travels north progressed. He was plagued by the same nightmare every night, robbing him of much-needed sleep, and things they had witnessed on the journey looked to be driving him mad.

They had only traveled at night, hiding near the edge of the forest during the day, forced to watch and listen as the enemy herded their prisoners along the roads leading toward the torture chambers of Memphis. All too often the personal depravity of the enemy was thrust upon their senses and they could not avoid seeing the horrible torture and hearing the screams and plaintive cries of the prisoners. Few words can truly describe the ordeals faced by those captives. According to Treston's statement to the sergeant, "The hell holes of Ephesus' prisons and arenas cannot compare to this wantonness!"

They chatted little during breakfast, Treston quietly answering Daisho's occasional questions or nodding at some comment. When finished eating, the two prepared to settle in for the day, waiting for darkness. Before bunking down, Daisho informed Treston there were the remains of some buildings...an abandoned depot, possibly...a short distance from the trees. She wanted to check them out, hoping to find a few discarded supplies. After warning the sergeant to stay alert, Treston offered to tend the horses.

The colonel had just returned to camp when he heard the thumping growl of huge machines filtering through the trees. Treston's heart jumped in his chest as he grabbed his rifle Contorie and darted toward the sound. In only seconds, he was lying on his belly in the snow, watching three giant, tracked personnel carriers muscling their way through snowdrifts. Less than twenty yards away the lead machine jerked to a stop, squealing its brakes in the process. "Hey, you dumb shit! Do that again and I'll kick your ass from here and back!"

A timid voice called out from an opened window in the door of the cab, "Sorry...sorry, Sergeant... brakes froze up. Got...gotta free 'em up."

The sergeant screamed more threats and curses, ordering, "Get a step on it!" then motioned the other two personnel carriers around, shouting for them to go on. While the driver and mechanic scurried out of the machine, the remainder of the crew jumped down from the back of the truck to stretch their legs.

For fifteen grueling minutes, Treston watched the enemy, fearing to move. One soldier even walked to within a dozen paces of the colonel to relieve himself. The morning sun was bright in the cloudless sky. With scant cover hiding him, Treston marveled at not being seen. Soon the mechanic was finished and the sergeant ordered the soldiers back aboard. Black smoke rolled from the engine as the tracked monster labored forward. As soon as possible the colonel hurried back into the trees.

Hopes of finding Daisho in camp were dashed. Treston wasted little time following her footsteps to the edge of the trees where she had peered out at the bleak landscape earlier that morning. As he pushed aside a branch to do the same, his heart sank in dismay. Little more than a stone's throw away, all three personnel carriers were halted, abandoned by their crews. They were gathered around two other men who appeared to be struggling with someone in the middle. Eventually, one of the men stepped aside so that Treston could see the person occupying their attention, confirming his worst fears.

Daisho was already stripped to the waist. Two men were poking and prodding her while the others whistled, laughed, or made catcalls. If Treston did not move quickly, he feared the sergeant would be subjected to the same cruelties he had see meted out to other hapless prisoners. What could he do?

"Act fast, old man..." Treston said, thinking aloud. "It's all or nothing. I put her in this mess and I'll get the girl out...or die trying." He had a plan - stupid and foolish - but just brash enough it might work. Releasing the safety on Contorie and sliding the rifle over his shoulder, the colonel prepared to greet the enemy. If a fight ensued, his first bullet would take out Daisho.

With a shout and a swagger, Treston broke from the trees, heading straight for the gathered enemy. "Well done, men! Well done! I've been looking for that bitch all morning!" He sneered, "Got into a little argument and ran off on me. Didn't like the pokin' I gave her in the ass." He laughed again. "'Gotta take it like a man, I told her. 'Gotta take it like a man.'"

The soldiers dumbly stared at the approaching stranger with the two men prodding Daisho doing the same. On Treston came, continuing to hurl insults at his sergeant. "Scrawniest tit beggar the Army had, too. Lousiest fuck in the whole regiment! But I needed someone with her other talents. Had to bring her along." No one moved. Treston smiled to himself. At least this part of the ruse was working. He wasn't dead...yet.

No one interfered as Treston walked right up to a very astonished and surprised Daisho. She stuttered, "Co...Co...Colonel Tres..."

"Bitch! Whore!" Treston angrily growled as he yanked on a tuft of her hair, spinning the woman around. As she turned back toward him, he let fly with the back of his hand, smashing her nose and blackening an eye. "Remember what I told you if I caught you whoring with the enlisted?! You filthy shit! I oughta' cut you up for this, make an example of ya!"

Still gripping the woman's hair, Treston pulled her close, until their faces nearly touched, glaring into two terrified eyes. Daisho was thoroughly confused, wondering if Treston was truly an enemy soldier, maybe a spy, and that she had fallen prey to his intrigues. The colonel needed to convince her otherwise. He shouted in her face, "Do you want to live?!" He grabbed her head, shaking it. "Listen to me! Do you want to live?!"

Tears ran down Daisho's cheeks, mixing with blood from her nose as it oozed over her lips and off her chin. Treston screamed the question again, the woman finally nodding.

Smiling through his teeth, he hissed, "Good! Then do exactly as you're told! Exactly! Do you understand?"

Daisho was beginning to realize what Treston was attempting. Shen nodded again, sobbing.

"Good!" Treston shouted, violently shoving Daisho away, knocking her to the ground. "Now quit your whoring with these men and put your clothes back on! You ever pull such a stunt again, I'll cut off your breasts and cook 'em for supper! The men won't think you're so pretty then, will they? Now git goin'!"

The woman stumbled around, groping for her clothes, crawling in the snow toward her crumpled blouse. Just as she reached for it, a corporal stepped forward, stomping it down with his boot, eyeing Treston suspiciously.

In a blur, the barrel of Treston's 45 was pressed hard against the man's forehead, hammer back and finger on the trigger. "Give me a reason, bastard!" Treston growled. "Breathe wrong and I split your skull, you worthless piece of dog shit!"

Instinctively the other soldiers backed away, needing no more convincing that whoever this man was, better to leave him be. There were stories aplenty of Legion's Elite Guard and the way they treated common soldiers, which these men were. The corporal threw his hands up and froze in place.

"Give my woman her shirt!" Treston snarled.

The corporal slowly lifted his boot so that Daisho could retrieve her blouse. Treston gritted his teeth, seetheing, "I am going to have to beat this woman for failing to carry out my orders. But from you she deserves revenge for you are the one bringing her injury. I think you need to learn a little lesson so you realize anything that belongs to me is superior to your kind of filth!"

The colonel reached into his jacket, pulling out a pocketknife, the blade popping open with a ' _snap!_ ' Handing it to Daisho, who was sitting on her knees in front of the corporal, he commanded, "You need to teach this man to have a little respect for one of my soldiers. Pull down his pants!"

Daisho hesitated, but the look on Treston's face convinced her to do as he demanded. Unbuckling the man's belt and undoing his trousers, the pants fell to the corporal's knees. "Good! Now, Sergeant, shave him. Don't worry too much if you nick him or not. Just don't cut his balls off...yet."

Treston scowled at the corporal. "I'm hungry...didn't get much breakfast today. I'm all nerved up and frustrated. Didn't get no ass, either. All that put me in a bad mood. Then you off and insult me with your disrespect. Should 'a killed ya on the spot, then thought better of it...at least for the moment. Gonna test out your character, see what you're made of."

After Daisho had finished, the colonel commanded, "Circumcise the bastard! If he moves, cut off his penis, then I'll shoot him!"

Beads of sweat dripped off the corporal's face as he clenched his teeth while Daisho slowly and deliberately cut away the man's foreskin, holding it in her hand. Treston ordered the man to take the clump of hair and his bloodied foreskin.

"Eat it!" Treston demanded. "I want to see just how tough you really are. You got the stomach to make trouble for my woman. Can you stomach this?!"

Without hesitating, the man forced the wad of bloody hair and skin into his mouth, nearly choking as he did. Two other soldiers turned aside, puking. Treston paid them no heed.

"Now chew it good! No swallowing 'til it's all chewed up." Treston grinned, "Don't want it to be unsettling for your stomach."

The man repeatedly gagged, forcing bile back down his throat. While the corporal struggled on, Treston addresed the sergeant in charge, "Do you believe I'm doing anything out of line or does this meet with your acceptance?"

The sergeant, who was turning greenish-yellow, stuttered his approval.

Treston smiled, ordering, "You make sure you put in your report the insubordinate act of this man. Include that needed discipline was provided in a fair and timely manner."

The sergeant promised it would be done, shrinking back with the other soldiers, hoping to avoid any more conversation with the colonel.

Eventually the corporal finished chewing, swallowing several time to clear his throat, the 45 ever pressed to his forehead. Treston ordered Daisho to stand. "Which would you prefer, Sergeant, for a souvenir, a bull's purse or a sow's ear?"

Panic-stricken, the corporal fell to his knees, begging for mercy, throwing his hands up, crying, "My Lord, please take pity on a fool!"

Startled, Treston was caught up short. He lowered his weapon, a twinge of regret tugged at his heart as the world of his day passed like some angry vision before his eyes. He could see Tanner sniveling, in tears, seeking his self-preservation. How similar these two men were and yet how different. Or were they? Might they both have been victims of a time and age, allowing them to be caught up in events until there appeared to be no turning back from the road taken?

The vision quickly ended. Treston chose not to be the judge of the matter. Life or damnation was not his to mete out. The will of the mind was not his to control. Looking at Daisho who was obviously ill at ease and shivering from the cold, Treston decided enough was enough.

He sighed then forced a smile. "Seeing that you have humbled yourself, recognizing my authority and seeing that my sergeant has apparently tired of the game, I will let you live. Do be wary of the stranger you meet on the field of war. Do not be too hasty to prove your valor."

Reaching out, Treston assisted the corporal to his feet. "Get dressed, soldier. Your pride is all that's damaged today. You'll heal up quick."

As the man pulled up and buckled his trousers, Treston addressed the others. "Gentlemen, what you have witnessed today is a lesson worth learning. At the expense of one of your fellows, I have helped teach you how to remain alive. Take this to heart. It is rare that my order wastes its energy on common men, saving such lessons for those more worthy. Consider yourselves honored." He patted the corporal on the shoulder. "Well done. Well done."

Relieving the corporal of further duty, Treston turned his attention to Daisho. "Sergeant, get you clothes on...now! I don't like other men seeing your tits! Do a stunt like that again and I cut 'em off!"

As Daisho hurriedly dressed, Treston chatted with the sergeant, telling him a story of how he and the woman ended up in the wilds. When he saw that Daisho had dressed, he ordered her to retrieve their supplies. "Bring my bag and our other necessities. Leave the rest go to the wind. It's better that way."

Daisho shouted, "Yes, Colonel!" and hurried off toward the trees. As he waited her return, Treston continued the banter, never holstering his weapon. In a few minutes the sergeant returned, a bandolier of rifle cartridges draped over her shoulder, a roll of bedding under an arm, and two corded bags hanging from her other shoulder. Treston was quietly relieved to see she had not brought the horses, and he was pleased she was carrying the bag Azriela had given him.

The colonel had learned this was a supply convoy en route to a small outpost further north. "From there, we will turn southeast and make our way back to Memphis." The sergeant scanned the area. "With these snow dunes, it'll take us all day and most of the night to reach it."

Treston believed his choice to travel with this convoy was fortuitous. His heart was still pushing him in that direction with an ominous feeling of urgency that he could not define. He could also keep an eye on his new-found traveling companions, providing them less of an opportunity to change their minds about him and report the matter to headquarters.

In short order, they were clawing their way through giant drifts, Treston and Daisho riding in the back of the lead truck with the sergeant. Food was abundant, being among the supplies destined for the outpost. Treston helped himself to some of the choice morsels, filling his and Daisho's bags with them.

It was a tedious, jolting journey north. The un-sprung, tracked machines slammed their passengers around, forcing them to hang on. One time the lead tractor pitched and yawed just as Daisho was retrieving an item from one of the bags, throwing her headlong into the forward bulkhead, knocking her senseless.

Treston wanted so much to assist his sergeant, but feared showing such expressions of kindness and concern might lead to suspicion on the part of the others. As Daisho writhed in pain on the floor of the bed, he nudged her with a boot. "Not nap time yet! Get on your feet! Next time you'll be more careful, won't you?!"

Daisho said nothing. She worked her way up by pulling on the side rack. Treston glanced over, catching an icy stare from an angry, reddened face. He looked away quickly, not chancing another glance. Daisho was about finished playing his little game. He better ease up if he wanted her continued support.

Attempting to sound casual, Treston recommended Daisho sit awhile, expressing passing sympathy for the bruise on her head. The woman sat, saying nothing as tears grew in her eyes. She was well aware of the great risks Treston had taken to save her life, but the feeling in her heart didn't want to accept the facts. Never, save one other time in her life, had a man treated her in such a cruel and demeaning way.

Other than a twenty-minute pause in the early afternoon, the convoy had continued its steady plod north. The sun was settling in the west when the sergeant called another halt, with Treston's approval of course. He pointed toward the northwest to two promontories jutting up from the broad expanse of smaller hills. "Over there, between those two mountains, that's our destination. It'll be after midnight a'fore we arrive, at best."

Treston was curious, wondering why the supplies hadn't been flown in, but he dare not ask. "Seems a waste to have to use these trucks up here 'stead of dropping the supplies off by air." He shrugged, "Could a' used 'em better down where all the fightin' is, wouldn't you think?"

The sergeant agreed, going on to explain the reason, which is what Treston wanted, but without raising suspicion as to enemy goings on. "Most everybody's moving west, Sir. Been watching it for days. Awful big fight off to the west. Heard tell everything that can fly is being pushed that way 'cept for local support." He glanced at the colonel. "Am I right?"

Treston pretended to be studying the distant horizon. He grunted, "Sounds like you're a pretty good guesser, Sergeant. If I didn't know better, I'd think you'd been eavesdropping on the officers." Treston didn't dare let on that he knew nothing concerning some new enemy advance.

"Oh no, Sir! I'd never do such a thing! Never!" Desiring to change the subject quickly, the sergeant offered Treston some of his special chew. "Fresh off the dregs of CorsanDreia. Been curing it for six years or better. Here, take a stick."

Treston dare not refuse the sergeant's offer of whatever it was. At first there was an almost sicky-sweet, liquorice flavor accompanied by a tannic taste in the back of his throat. As he continued to chew, a warm tingling slowly flowed through his body, easing the sting of the cold and discomfort in his feet from standing so many hours.

The sergeant had been watching Daisho nursing a powerful headache and offered, "I have enough to share with your orderly, Sir. Should kill her pain." He shook his hand, containing part of a stick, and grinned, "Won't find any stronger chew on this planet than what I got here."

Treston thanked the sergeant and handed Daisho his gift. She chewed on it a moment, attempting to determine the ingredients. Suddenly her quizzical expression changed to that of concern. She stared at the sergeant. "You carry death in your pocket! Or have you found through witchery the power to defeat the strictnoisun root?"

The sergeant laughed, and asked Treston, "Has the woman ever had the honor of such a product as this? I admit, in its pure form we'd all be dead right now, but that's before it gets processed." He leaned toward Treston and winked, "As you know, Sir, it's the aging process along with the addition of the terrimiss berry that partially neutralizes the strictnoisun poison. Makes a damn good painkiller, though."

Treston laughed along with the sergeant. "Don't want to dull our women's senses, do we? Their whimpering moans are exciting." He patted the sergeant on the shoulder, asking for another stick, and then changed the subject.

The sergeant and Treston, with Daisho following, climbed down from the truck. Already, Daisho's headache was easing, soon to fade away. The camp busied itself preparing a quick sup, the sergeant wanting to be moving before the sun sank behind the hills. They had just started eating when the ground began to violently shake, knocking over some cook kettles and stacked weapons.

Treston jumped up, eyes filled with excitement. "What the hell!"

A few seconds later, a disquieting rumbling was heard coming from the north. Before Treston could ask, the sergeant said, troubled, "It's the Jahouk, Sir. They woke up some nights ago, right after those strange lights came in the sky." He shuddered, "Some say the Spirits of the Mountains have reawakened, say they intend to retake Memphis."

Treston stared into the distance. In the late day sky, he could see a dark shadow filling the northern horizon. There was no trepidation in his heart, though. It felt as if the growing darkness was a smoky beacon, calling him from afar. At last he realized where his destiny lay, somewhere to the north, in those mountains...

* * *

Trisha lingered in the shower long after the last of the suds had splashed away in the rinse. It was easier to hide her tears this way, pretending it was soap that reddened her eyes instead of an aching heart. She dreamed of this world long ago as she struggled with the ravages of old age and sickness, not once believing it could contain such pain.

In time she surrendered to the moment at hand, stepped out of the shower and dried off. A revealing look in the mirror brought a sad smile to her face. A dark bruise at the base of her neck was a fading reminder of heated romance that had consumed the last several hours. How the woman longed for that moment to have never ended. Tossing the towel aside, she exited the compartment.

The coolness of the bedroom tingled Trisha's skin, covering it with an army of goose bumps...or at least that is what she accredited the chill to. Across the room, Zadar was dressing, the remainder of his white uniform draped over the back of a chair. Trisha quietly walked up behind him and pressed her body against his back. Zadar turned, wrapping his arms around her in a swaddling embrace.

Softly caressing Zadar's arm with her fingers, Trisha, head lowered and eyes closed, spoke to him in a near whisper, "I fear not the darkness, for I am the darkness prophesied to come. But I am afraid of being alone without you." She looked up and into his face. "You are my heart and soul...my breath and my life. Without you, I am but a shadow in the midst of a troubling world."

Zadar smiled, "The years of my life have been sixty times that of yours, and my lovers countless. Yet should I be called before the Judge of all hearts I will confess there has not been a sweeter companion for me than you. Alas, the universe does change. We must part." He kissed her on the forehead.

Looking away to hide her tears, Trisha rested her head on Zadar's chest. "I had a dream this past night, the same one that has visited me these many weeks. A voice from beyond the clouds calls out to me, telling me to release my spell over you, to let you go back to the woman of your youth, to give to her a renewing of life for a day for her to see love one more time."

Zadar sighed, "Gabrielle was my mentor in love. Few are the men who still have stirrings in their heart for her. Your dream has been similar to mine, except for me the voice is not hidden in cloud. It is the voice of Gabrielle's father, Lord and Keeper of all the secrets in the universe. He calls me to his daughter so that her heart will not die before its time. This war will consume her and bring her soul to its finish. Yet, with my love, it may not destroy her." He lifted Trisha's chin with his hand, gazing into her eyes. "I must go to my sister. There is no other way."

Trisha fought back tears. "I see you becoming a great commander. My visions tell me that a day is coming when you will ride the chariot in front of the king. You shall become his right arm, and I..."

Zadar put his finger to her lips. "Then we shall be riding together in the same chariot, for are you not one of the Swords promised to the king?" He stepped back, holding Trisha's arms. "What is a day, a month or a year for two lovers such as us? I see a time when we shall ride the heavens together as one. Our parting is for but a moment."

He pushed Trisha's nose with his finger and smiled. "Besides, we shall be together again...and soon. It may be some months or a little more, but chance will happen upon us. Then we shall steal the hour for a little romance."

"Oh, but for that hour now!" Trisha could not hold back the tears any longer, a torrent streaming down her face. "Shall I live without you? Yes, but death is better than the agony that shall pass until our reunion."

Zadar allowed Trisha several fleeting breaths to weep over her loss, finally admonishing, "Already you have emptied the hearts of thousands of my brothers and sisters. There is no hope of them finding comfort in those loving arms until the Great Returning. Yes, how true the saying, 'The one making the bed cold shall shiver the night chill on winter's eve.' Countless are the beds you have made cold. Can you not accept the same fate for yourself?"

Those words struck Trisha's heart like an arrow shot from a bow. She caught her breath and stared into Zadar's face. Though filled with compassion, his eyes were stern. "It was said to my people long ago that the one who will deliver us into a world of peace shall bring to ruin all that was, is, and might have been. You are a death angel, sent to burn our universe with fire. Pain is your sister, Anger your brother, Destruction your father, and Vengeance your mother. You will sow your wrath so that we may reap some of the things lost to us."

Trisha's heart refused the counsel. She burst into tears anew, burying her head in Zadar's chest, crying, "I don't want to be those things! It's not fair! Not fair! Too long I lived a wretched existence with no one who truly loved me. For the first time in my life, I have found real love." She wailed, "I do not deserve it be stolen from me now!"

Zadar said nothing. All too often he had witnessed the same outburst on the field of battle, when someone would happen upon a companion and lover. Grief blinds the mind to the heart's wiles. Until the emotion subsides, no cure will be effected.

Taking Trisha's hands, Zadar led the woman to the bed, smiling softly. "Destiny can wait a little longer. Allow me, please, to hold you one more time before I leave."

Trisha smiled, tears still running down her cheeks. Again, for but a little while, she found herself floating across a cloudless sky filled with the energy of life and excitement. Every second, every heartbeat of their lovemaking she treasured in her soul. Every touch and caress, every sound and move, the woman held dear to her heart. Should the world's ending be on the eve of tomorrow, she would pass away in peace, recalling this hour.

Trisha and Zadar arrived fashionably late on the hangar deck. The shuttle taking the field marshal was the last remaining, its officers and crew patiently waiting its final passenger. The carrier Hermities, along with its accompanying taskforce, was returning to EdenEsonbar, carrying in its hold the damaged Starlight and the bodies of General Tizrela, General PalaHar, Squadron Commander Terey, and other leading officers.

Dozens in the military leadership were there to see the field marshal off. Among them were the Admiral of the Fleet Gabrielle, Centurion General SarahCnidus, Commodore General Planetee, as well as Trisha's staff officers Generals Tabitha Copeland and Richard Finhardt, and commanders Generals HoiOnarasis and TolmetesRhedEpi. General BarkaiNofech, Trisha's chief of staff since Tizrela's death, had earlier departed for EdenEsonbar with General DinChizki.

General HoiO was remaining on MueoPoros to take command of all army ground forces on the planet, freeing up General NoazOhfehr to push the enemy and finish construction on the PrasiaOdous terminus line. General Chasileah had been assigned to Noaz' staff. She was recuperating rapidly, but still unable to move her lower extremities.

Trisha politely greeted each of the visiting officers, doggedly holding Zadar's hand the entire time. She hugged Tabitha and, while gently rubbing her arm, offered parting words. "As my new field general, I expect to see some of that British tenacity your race is known for...or so I have been told. This war is new and fresh, taking many twists and turns before it's finished. The people with the greatest will power shall stay the course to victory."

Tabitha blushed, replying, "My race enjoys way too much their rum and ale. War is often come upon by accident and fought because we are unable to find a way out of it. We have had our Bunker Hills and Trafalgars...but also our Yorktowns and Hastings. I shall do my best to give you neither of the latter."

Trisha took Tabitha's hand. "General Bortaiac is an excellent officer. His transfer to southern command will strengthen that position well. But he is a little slow at interpreting orders. Be clear and concise with him, providing little latitude to him when you're in a pinch. He can play at siege warfare quite well. That's what should work for you in the south."

She then spoke of Tabitha's northern general. "That Jackson fellow is spirited and independent - still stuck in the old days with his, 'Praise the Lord!' and 'God's Will!' But he loves a fight. Just tell him where to stop. He'll get you there on his own."

Trisha finally made her way to the last of those seeing her off. Walking up to Gabrielle, she reached out, taking her hand and placing Zadar's hand over it. With no attempt to hide her sadness, she gave Zadar to Gabrielle. "Allow me to present to you your aide de camp, Commodore ZadarFahyVel, the Navy's newest volunteer. He will do you proud."

Gabrielle's throat constricted so she couldn't speak. She nodded, a tear running down her cheek.

Trisha took the admiral's other hand and leaned close. "My sister, I have learned love from you through this man's dreams. His love for you is real and true. Allow, please, this once your servant girl opportunity to give a little back to the one who has sacrificed all she has for us. The tears of my widowhood I have selfishly shed and for want of a pure heart I coveted this prize."

She squeezed Gabrielle's hand. "But I see...have come to see that love abounds in many ways. So much I want to be like you, and this day I have made my start. Please do not reject this gift, so small a one in comparison to all that you have given others. Through this man, you and I shall become one. Our dreams will unite through his blood."

Gabrielle bowed her head, closing her eyes. She managed a few choked words of thanks, concluding, "Your kind are truly strange and wonderful. No force in the Realms Above or the Realms Below will suffer your glory and not be forever changed."

Trisha bowed her head in return. "And your kind shall forever be the Keepers of the Flame. Hope is all we cling to, for faith is weak among us. Unless we can see the sun rise above us, we cower in dismay because of the eternal darkness. May your fire give us faith."

The two women embraced, promising an unbroken fealty, one for the other. Trisha turned to Zadar and tenderly kissed him on the lips. She then reached up and started playing with the lapels on his jacket. "I have learned many things from you and I promise not to forget your countless words of wisdom. A fire burns in my heart for you, and I shall not allow those flames to die with our parting. My bed will not become a winter chamber of sorrow and self-pity. Your people are my people if they will have me."

Zadar smiled as he stroked Trisha's hair. "I have watched the way men stare up at you when you are unaware of their gaze. Few are the women with greater beauty than yours. Step down, please, for but a moment, and become the woman to them as you have become to me. Never should your bed be cold unless you choose it to be so."

Touching her breast, Trisha replied, "Although I rule the Heavens, I have learned to become a carefree maiden in your arms. May I learn to become the same for others."

The three chatted for a few more minutes, sharing parting words of endearment and care. Trisha then bid her adieu and boarded the shuttle along with the remainder of her party. The tiny ship's door slid closed with a _'snap!'_ and a _'click!'_ In a little while it was on the flight deck, preparing for departure.

Trisha stared out a porthole, watching Sophia shrink in the distance. As it faded into little more than a twinkling star, she closed her eyes, remembering a time long ago of a little girl sitting cross-legged in the sand, playing with a straw doll and gazing into the starry sky, asking her mother what they were.

Her mother played with the child's dark curls, answering, "The chariots of the gods ride upon the night sky, protecting us from harm. In giant ships, they row against the wind as they search out their foes." She bent down and kissed the child. "One day you may stand upon the brow of such a ship as it sweeps through the skies."

Trisha shook her head in silence. Oh, if her mother only knew how prophetic those words had really been...

* * *

The supply convoy was breaking supper camp, some of the men scurrying about, loading equipment back into the trucks while others checked the machines before starting them. Treston was standing next to the rear gate of the lead truck, Daisho having just climbed aboard, when the droning ' _thump, thump, thump_ ' of approaching aircraft could be heard above the din of camp noises.

In moments two giant gunships were settling down, one on each side of the camp. Rangers in special commando uniforms piled out of both gunships hurrying to secure a perimeter, while others ran straight for Treston. With weapons drawn, they surrounded the colonel, telling him to raise his hands high. He threw his arms up all the while verbally chastising and condemning the soldiers for their actions, still playing the part of a Special Forces commander.

Out of the corner of his eye Treston noticed an officer climbing down from the nearest gunship. He had seen the man before, but where? Treston frowned at the realization that this was the same man who led his troops up the ravine some days ago, the one he had in his riflescope several times but failed to bring down. He wondered if the officer had gotten as good a look at him as he had at the officer, then breathed a silent sigh of relief, having taken Daisho's suggestion to shave off his beard after they started their journey north.

Keeping up his bold charade, Treston shouted to the ranger officer, "What's friggin' wrong with your friggin' mind, Captain?! I could have you skinned alive for allowing your monkeys to treat me this way!"

The officer's expression did not change. It was obvious to Treston that this man considered himself very important and was in no way in fear of Treston's threats. He approached the colonel to about arm's length, cocked his head and asked suspiciously, "Haven't I seen you somewhere recently?"

Sure enough, the man recognized Treston, but the question was did he have the colonel pinpointed to a time and location or were his recollections of him still hidden in the fog of the confusion of war when so many faces pass a person's vision? Whatever the case, Treston knew he was forced to play this game to the end.

Treston growled, "I saw you, you friggin' coward! Runnin' away without the trophy and leavin' that girl in the hands of those big, bad soldiers. Yep! Leave it to an ass like you to screw up a simple mission!" He raised an eyebrow. "One defender against a dozen and you let the prize escape!"

He slapped his chest. "Well, you don't need to be afraid of that evil man anymore!" He smiled, "That fella's suit fits pretty good. It got me into their camp...almost got the little girl, too. Just missed the medical ship by five minutes." It hurt Treston to add the following, but he felt it necessary. "I did hear 'em saying that the big man, General...uh, General PalaHar was down and dyin'. That's gonna be good news for Command when I get back."

The captain was taken off guard, hesitating to reply. Treston was going to make another comment when the officer raised a little hand-held beeper with a flashing red light. "Well...uh..."

"Colonel Treston," Treston growled, "here on king's business!"

"Well 'Colonel Treston, here on king's business'," the officer began, "you have led us on a merry chase that may have cost us the loss of another prize. What have you to offer as an excuse for bringing us here with a false signal?"

Treston was now the person to be taken aback, but his wit did not fail him. He snapped, "I was trapped out here in the friggin' middle of nowhere, with very important news to deliver to headquarters. I figured that someone even as dimwitted as you could follow a signal. Now that you've found me, we can get on our way." Those last words Treston blurted out without thinking. If he were asked where, he would be hard-pressed to give an answer. He needn't worry.

The captain was scornful and abrupt, shaking his head in disagreement. "Colonel Treston, I have an assignment because some flyboys screwed up their mission. Capturing one antique fighter should have been a piece of cake, but no! Dumb asses didn't expect a woman could outsmart 'em. The storm put us down until it cleared. And now you and your silly ass idea of gettin' home by using that beacon? I don't have the time."

Treston began to protest, but the captain cut him off. "Colonel, you've been found. Why don't you shut that piece-of-shit buzzer off so that I can get back on the trail of the fugitive we're searching for!"

Treston did not know there was a shut-off on the earring. He was really in a fix now. Acting quickly, he pulled the earring from his pocket, commenting with disgust at the captain's failure to retrieve it from the downed gunship. Somehow it slipped from his fingers as he gestured, landing at the captain's feet.

Making some sarcastic remarks about Treston's agility, mumbling insults, the captain reached down and picked up the earring. With a quick twist of his fingers, he shut off the signal emanating from the earfob. It was done too fast for Treston to see how the captain had accomplished the task. At least Treston's apparent bumble had saved him being exposed as a spy.

The captain shoved the earring back into Treston's hand. "Now, Colonel, when I finish my mission, I will make directly for Memphis to deliver my package to our Lord Legion. If you wish to tag along for the ride, you're welcome to come. I'm sure you can find your way from the fortress palace."

So the captain served Legion's Elite Guard? That would answer many questions troubling Treston, including the man's arrogance toward a superior officer, even one claiming to be in some sort of Special Forces unit. The captain was undoubtedly familiar with many of the leading commanders and more troublesome, most if not all military branches, common and clandestine, would be known to him. Intimidation was needed to keep the captain in line and wondering, but done with enough finesse so he did not feel threatened.

Treston accepted the captain's proposal, displaying the demeanor of a superior officer. "My sergeant and I shall tag along, but you better be true to your words about promptness. Legion is not the only lord this army reports to. It is not wise to dally when certain people wish for news, if you catch my drift."

The captain showed no change of expression, but Treston could tell that wheels were turning in his mind, the man's uncertainty evident in the way he twitched his fingers. Still, the captain wasn't about to surrender his valued authority to this stranger and usurper, making it clear who was in charge of this mission and timetable.

He pointed first at Treston and then at Daisho. "You, Sir, I have given permission to...to come along with us. Your...your candy dancer has not been included in my invitation! Give these gurney grunts some fun. Just tell them to be gentle. You can pick her up when she reaches Memphis."

This was it! Treston could tell that the captain had shown his hand, using Daisho as his trump card to prove his authority. There was no way the colonel would leave her behind to the likes of these animals, especially after them hearing the captain's recommendations for them to have a little sport with her. Treston needed to prove his authority was greater by throwing a higher trump.

Treston waved his arm, shaking his head. "Don't insult me! The little bitch is the poorest fuck I had in ages and I don't keep her with me for thrills. Any fool should be wondering why I am out here in the middle of this shit-hole of a wilderness instead of at Memphis right now, basking in the rewards of a successful mission. Well," he pointed at Daisho, "she is my mission, my real mission! All the other things I did were to try to salvage your earlier screw-ups!"

Treston chanced a glance at Daisho, who was standing near the back of the truck, arms filled with her and Treston's belongings. Bewilderment and hurt filled the sergeant's face. Treston sounded convincing, and the look on Daisho's face proved it. Was he an agent for Asotos? He could see that thought going through the girl's mind.

The man noticed something else there, too. Daisho's expression of hurt was real. Treston must have reawakened some long-hidden pain secreted away in the woman's heart. Had she survived the torment of a lover's abuse in the past? Did she feel herself a failed romantic...a 'poor fuck'? There was no time to ponder that possibility. Treston had to convince the captain that Daisho be taken along with them.

"I must have this woman with me!" Treston's voice was charged with excitement, but he spoke calmly. "Sergeant DaishoTalwar has been a most useful agent to us. Her clandestine activities in the enemy's security division have provided us with priceless tactical information including, may I add, the delivering into my hand one of the great Ancients, VanGoddawin, himself!" At that, Treston pulled aside his coat, revealing VanGoddawin's sword.

The effect was what he had hoped for. Of course, the common soldiers would have acted overawed. They were conditioned to behave in such a manner when around superior officers. But even the commando rangers were impressed, including their captain. VanGoddawin must have been a high-ranking officer and well-known among the enemy.

Still, considering the risk to his real or perceived authority, the captain could not back down. He shook his head. "Colonel, there is no room aboard my gunships for but one more person. The sergeant will have to travel with this convoy."

Treston drew his last trump card. He had come to learn long ago that ruthlessness worked on superiors – or those who thought they were superiors – as well as subordinates. In a heartbeat, he whipped his 45 from its holster, firing one well-placed bullet through the foot of a ranger standing near the captain. The man howled and doubled over in pain.

Treston smiled, observing, "It looks to me like you have a man down...won't be able to take him along on your mission. I have a sergeant capable of filling that space. She's a good agent...a lot more than a bed warmer."

Surprise, shock, and anger flashed in the captain's eyes, but Treston saw something else there, too, that eased his mind...fear...fear caused by uncertainty. Only a desperate fool or a madman would act so blatantly, unless...unless the person really was who he claimed to be, an officer working for a power greater than Legion. Legion was one of Asotos' chief lieutenants, but even Legion treaded lightly around Asotos' people.

Staring at Treston's smoking weapon, the captain stuttered, "Col... Col... Colonel Treston... yes, Colonel, we have room for your sergeant."

Now was no time to dally or gloat. Treston knew that fortunes changed with the breeze. One word or action from anyone in the party could alter the captain's decision. "Thank you, Captain," Treston replied quickly, a note of gratitude in his voice. "I'll be sure to mention in my report how you assisted me with my mission."

Although humbled, the captain couldn't allow himself complete defeat, especially in front of his own men who might, themselves, be seeking ways to climb the power ladder. The captain raised his hand, stopping Treston. "But, Colonel, I have a mission to complete before I can deliver you to Memphis. This I must do!"

Treston smiled again, replying, "Captain, I well appreciate your need to accomplish your mission. Were I in your position, I would do the same. Even with this coming delay, I will have the sergeant in the hands of my people sooner than my present conveyance is providing. Go on your mission first." He half saluted. "You may find us of a greater service than you expected."

The captain ordered his men back to the gunships, relegating the wounded ranger to the truck convoy. Treston commanded a soldier to assist Sergeant Daisho, and another to help the wounded ranger into one of the tracked machines while he accompanied the captain.

As they walked toward the gunship, Daisho some distance behind, the captain asked concerning Treston's weapons, "Colonel, your tools of war are quite strange to me. I have only heard of the weapon you have holstered. How is it you handle such a strange tool so well?"

Treston grumbled, as if somewhat annoyed, "If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, others will think it's a duck." He stared at the captain. "If someone is going to convince his enemy that he is a fellow comrade, he must become a duck. I, Sir, have spent many years becoming a duck. You do not survive with ruthless men if you do not become one yourself."

The captain nodded and said no more. Still, Treston felt uncomfortable. He could tell the man was not fully convinced concerning the colonel's credentials. It was possible that he and Daisho were walking from the frying pan into the fire, but there was nothing else for it. The die had been cast. Whatever the future held for them would be through the doors of the nearby gunship. For the present, this captain was their guide.

Treston thought to himself, 'I must pay the tiller-man to cross the river, but the price is yet to be determined.'

In a few minutes, two giant war birds were hundreds of feet in the sky, drifting off toward the west. Treston was ill at ease at flying and with opened side doors to boot. He tried to hide his disquiet by paying overdue attention to the few remaining items in the bag given him by Azriela.

Scrutinizing his guest, the captain observed Treston's fear. Mildly chiding him, he asked, "So, Colonel, is there greater adventure to be found in that purse than viewing the surrounding countryside?"

Treston knew full well what the captain was driving at, that it amused him to see the great colonel squirm at being high in the air. He was sure that few of Lowenah's children displayed such a dread of flying, and the captain was going to use his new-found knowledge to his advantage if possible. Well, if Treston couldn't hide his fear, he would have to take the captain's mind off it.

Treston growled, "You ever piss your pants from fright, Captain?!"

Surprised, the captain shook his head.

"Well then, tell me..." Treston went on, "have you plummeted thousands of feet in one of these flying coffins only to see it vaporize in flame and fire around you as it crashed through the trees?"

The captain shook his head again.

Treston squinted, baring his teeth, angrily reprimanding, "Then don't smirk when you see a superior officer pay undue consideration to a nonsense bag when in one!"

The captain said nothing, quickly turning his attention to the navigator, asking about their destination. Seeing they were closing in on a signal, the captain turned to the business at hand. Soon the two gunships parted company with the captain's veering north, while the other turned south and began its descent.

That little exchange between the captain and Treston had helped the colonel clear his mind, allowing him to focus. From what he could gather, the captain was going to swing around to the northwest to avoid flying over the target area. Then after turning south again, would swoop in behind the target, dropping men off there to close in toward the east. At the same time, the other gunship crew would set up a perimeter to the east, waiting further orders from the captain.

The sun was setting behind the distant hills when the gunship reached its intended location. Treston got an earful from the captain, complaining about the precious time wasted in the false search because of the colonel. He shook his finger at Treston, warning, "If we fail in this mission, it will be your fault! And I'll make that clear in _my_ report!"

Treston grinned, "Captain, everything's going according to plan. In a little bit our...er...your mission will be accomplished."

The captain eyed Treston suspiciously, pondering what the colonel was driving at, finally poking Treston's arm. "You're damn right this is my mission! And if you want any part of it, you'd better do exactly as I say!"

He turned to look out the door of the gunship. They were about sixty feet above the ground. Seeing no place to land, the captain ordered his men to prepare rapelling lines. After thinking the matter over, he grudgingly decided that Treston must come with him. There was no trusting the man out of his sight.

After being informed, Treston told Daisho to prepare for the rapelling descent. The captain shook his head, shouting above the noisy gunship's engines, "I don't take women! They're bad luck! She stays!"

Treston protested. The captain drew his sidearm and pointed it at Daisho. "Colonel, I make no bargains here! If you try to bring her, I shoot the woman right now. No women on my mission!" He then pointed at Contorie. "Leave that rifle here, too! It will only be in the way."

Treston could see the captain's eyes in the fading light. There would be no arguing with the man. He reluctantly handed Contorie over to Daisho, who hesitantly reached for it, expecting to be knocked back by a fiery shock. Nothing happened, to the surprise of Daisho and Treston who smiled, remarking, "Trust it, Sergeant. It likes you."

The captain puzzled again over what Treston had said to Daisho, but had little time to contemplate it. He shouted for his men to start down, quickly giving Treston a more than gentle nudge to get going. As Treston leaned out the door, securing himself to the line, he glanced back at Daisho, concern showing in his face.

Noticing, the captain drew close to Treston, urging him along, mocking him. "Your game hen will be fine. After we're down, the ship will rendezvous with the others, waiting for us at the bottom of the mountain." He poked Treston's arm, sneering, "She'll still be quite fuckable when you return."

In a few minutes, the captain, Treston, and six other men were on the ground, trudging into the forest while the gunship thumped back off to the north. The party soon split in two, each group spreading out across a series of wooded ridges separated by two deepening gullies. Treston, of course, was accompanying the captain.

Undergrowth was thick and the snow deep, making travel difficult enough, but there were also countless springs that kept the soil under the snow soft and treacherous. Thick, gooey mud under that snow also hid jagged rocks and stones, making it nearly impossible to maintain one's footing. And then there was the dark twilight beneath the majestic conifers, blinding Treston to the forest's low limbs and nasty thorns.

Treston had no way of escaping now. He would have to leave Daisho to what fates Legion's men might deliver up to her. Funny thing, it was because of Daisho that he was currently in this predicament. What was funnier still was that he did not feel apprehensive about matters. It was as if he was being guided down a dark road by an invisible hand. All he had to do was trust that feeling.

They eventually made their way along the ridge to a spot that looked passable. "We'll descend this way," the captain ordered in a hushed voice. "The signal is stronger in that direction."

The captain led his party down a narrow, dangerous pathway, a weathered granite cliff face filled with barren rock outcroppings and dotted with caves, the floor of the gully now well over a hundred feet below. They could see the gully widening going southward until opening into a broad, treeless canyon.

It was difficult enough for the others to climb down the narrow ledges, but for Treston it was treacherous. He possessed no special climbing gear and his boots were not designed for such rugged terrain. More than once he nearly lost his footing, forcing him to hug the cliff face like some novice at rock climbing, which he was. It was a good thing for him that the captain made him leave Contorie behind, it being a much heavier weapon than the small long guns the rangers carried.

About half way down the trail, the rock face took a steep drop. Treston was struggling his way down, being careful not to slip, when the ranger above him let out a cry and fell, crashing into Treston. The two men went end over end as they slid and tumbled to the canyon floor, being pummeled by loose rocks and broken ice.

Treston didn't know just how much time had passed since his ending up on the gully floor. He lifted his aching head and began to push himself up. To his left lay the ranger who had cried out and fallen into him. Treston saw no signs of movement and presumed the man dead. Groaning as he sat, Treston looked around for the others. In the gathering darkness he saw two gunships approach from the east and land on a frozen expanse between the cliffs further down the canyon.

After struggling to stand, Treston watched commandos jumping from one of the gunships and heading up the slope, disappearing behind a small ridge. He hobbled forward to get a better look at what might be happening. Some two hundred yards down the canyon he saw a group of soldiers leading a prisoner.

The captain was wasting no time to return to Legion with his trophy. He would come back for the wounded and the dead, hoping the colonel would be counted among the latter. After he and his prisoner had departed for Memphis, the rangers from the second gunship could gather up the others. His prisoner was much too dangerous to leave on the ground. Four of his men and even that colonel were sad proof of that.

A lump grew in Treston's throat. If he could not reach them before the gunships departed, Daisho would be left on her own. He pushed aside thoughts of what the enemy would do to her when they discovered who she really was. Ignoring his pains, he forced himself into a run, hoping to catch up with the captain in time.

Down the valley, the two gunships sat idle, their long, whirling blades slowly beating against the chill night air. Four soldiers had crawled a hundred yards or so up a steep ravine and were waiting for the approaching party at its crest. The captain was in the lead with his prisoner whose hands were bound in front at the wrists. To the side and behind him two rangers followed close, prodding the prisoner along.

Nearly breathless, Treston reached a small rise not far from the captain and his party, shouting for the captain to wait up.

The captain cursed, "That bastard, Colonel Treston! Should have made sure he was dead after that fall!"

At hearing Treston's name, the prisoner perked up. In a heartbeat, she lunged forward, head-butting the captain who went sprawling on the ice and rocks. Not stopping, the prisoner fell atop the captain and began to struggle with him, shouting, "Kill 'em now, Treston, or we're all gonna die!"

There comes a point in everyone's life when there is no time to think about the results of one's actions, a time when a very narrow window of opportunity offers itself. For but a breath it exists. Few of us understand its arrival, and only ponder the 'what ifs' long after the window has tightly closed. Treston was not such a man. His long survival in the Roman Legions had taught him not to think, only react. Thinking was a luxury reserved for poets and philosophers.

Treston flung himself forward, pulling his handgun from its holster as he did. The first bullet exploded from the barrel before he hit the ground, more quickly following. Two of the waiting soldiers tumbled backward down the ravine. A third ducked, slipping on the ice and falling after them.

The commandos in the captain's party spun around, dropping on their bellies, unleashing a volley of automatic weapons fire in Treston's direction, while the ranger in front of the captain sank to his knees and began shooting at the colonel.

Treston quickly rolled away to his right, using a few small rocks as a shield to deflect the enemies' fire. With bullets ricocheting around him, he chanced a glance at his opponents, hoping for another shot. To his amazement, he watched a bright flash of light appear between the prisoner and the captain. In an instant, the prisoner sat up, placing another well-aimed shot into the face of the ranger sitting on his knees.

Hopping up, with hands still bound, the woman started running down the ravine. One of the remaining rangers spun around, drawing a bead on her. Treston shot twice, dropping a prone ranger as he turned his head to see what the other ranger was doing. His second shot smashed into the back of the other soldier's head, driving the man face down into to snow.

Treston was up and running, popping out an empty bullet clip as he reached in his pocket for another. He stopped near the captain, hearing more gunshots down the ravine. Several anxious heartbeats later, he watched a person staggering back up the draw. The colonel stood there peering into the fading light, weapon at the ready. In a moment, he heard the same strangely familiar voice that had called out to him before.

With weapon raised, the woman asked, "Is that you, Treston?"

For the first time, that voice registered in Treston's mind. He asked haltingly, "Is that you, Patch?"

"Yes, it's me!" Sirion said nothing more until she had managed the steep slope, stopping in front of the colonel who was still in a state of shock at discovering Sirion was the valued trophy the captain and his men were searching for.

Puzzled, Treston asked, "How did you know it was me coming down the gully?"

Sirion shrugged, "I didn't. When the captain cursed out your name, I felt it worth a try, not really believing it was you."

"Help us!"

Treston and Sirion jumped at the words. The captain was using his communicator to hail the gunships. Without hesitating, Sirion fired the final two bullets from her handgun into the captain's head.

Down the valley, engines began revving up, the ' _thump, thump, thump_ ' of the rotor blades increasing speed. Treston dove over the captain's dead body for the still flashing communicator, shouting, "Daisho! Jump for it, Daisho! Jump!"

The lead gunship rose to about twenty feet when Treston saw several bright flashes inside the cabin, followed by a person jumping or falling from the machine's opened doorway. Treston watched as the person...hopefully Daisho...disappeared into a low thicket. Someone could be seen leaning from the gunship's doorway, shooting off in that direction as the two gunships hurried up the valley toward Treston and Sirion.

"They have night vision!" Sirion cried. "Cut me loose and grab a rifle!"

Treston hurried back to Sirion, his knife already opened. In a few seconds, she was free of the lashings and scrambling for a weapon. In another few heartbeats, the lead gunship was skimming the ground coming up the rise, its support ship directly behind it.

As the two scurried for cover in the rocks, the lead gunship released a volley of cannon fire that kicked up splintered chunks of ice and stone, pelting Treston's and Sirion's legs. Diving under an outcropping saved them from a direct hit, but they were still not safe. The gunship hovered in the air, taking aim at the shadows under the rocks.

"Run!" Sirion screamed, pulling Treston toward a dry wash. As they ran, Sirion unloaded her rifle, only to see the bullets bounce and ricochet off the gunship's outer skin.

' _Bl-u-u-r-r-p!'_ Several more cannon shots were fired, one exploding on the cliff's wall near Sirion. A large chunk of shattered rock hit the woman, sending her sprawling, knocked senseless.

Treston cried out Sirion's name and knelt down beside her. For the moment, they were hidden from the gunship by the high banks of the wash, but time was not on their side. Treston looked up to see the machine's whirling blades as it rose over them.

'It is the fool who surrenders when all hope is lost.' Treston could recall his father's words just before the battle of Taneanphase Heights. His garrison lived to celebrate the victory even though outnumbered ten to one. Another thing his father told him that day was, 'Your sword will never fail you if the gods live in it.'

His sword? VanGoddawin's sword! Treston pulled his sword from its sheath, a greenish-blue light dancing in the sharpened steel. The gunship rose into sight. In seconds it would be finished. The hopeless hour had arrived.

Treston jumped into action. "Ysuah, give your son to glory!" he cried, holding the derker blade high.

A blinding flash of white light exploded from the flaming sword, followed by a thunderous roar that shook the valley, sending avalanches of ice and stone cascading down the canyon walls.

Out of the thunder, a voice rolled on Treston's ears, "Give what is mine to this rabble and send them to Gehenna's Gate!" Without hesitation, Treston pitched the sword, spinning, toward the first gunship, now only ten yards away.

In one concussive eruption, the burning blade smashed through the pilot's windscreen, filling the gunship with crimson flames. In his death throes, the pilot jerked his machine backward. It turned on its side, flying into the support gunship, sending them both crashing to the rocks in a fiery inferno. Treston dove over Sirion as an explosive firestorm enveloped them.

As the fires eased, Treston examined Sirion to see how badly she might be injured. Touching the side of her head brought a painful groan from the girl's lips. A smile of relief grew on Treston's face as he watched Sirion's eye slowly flutter open... then close... then open again.

"Do I live or am I dreaming in the Field of the Minds?" Sirion moaned in pain.

"You live, dear one. You live for another day." Treston gently lifted Sirion, resting her head in his lap. "The enemy has retreated for the moment." He stroked her hair. Treston assisted Sirion to sit, and then helped her to her feet.

"Where's my gun?!" she asked excitedly, patting her holster for the 45.

Treston joined in to help in her search, asking why all the fuss. Sirion answered back as she rummaged along the darkened wash, "Captain Jusenah aboard Sophia loaned it to me. Said it was a gift from that Garlock fellow. I promised her I'd return it."

Just as Treston was about to give up looking, he heard Sirion cry that she located it. "Good!" he shouted to her. "Time's a wastin' and we have to git! And we have to find Daisho to..." Treston was caught up speechless with surprise. Less than twenty feet away, VanGoddawin's sword rested in the snow, its blue-green fire fading in the darkness.

He walked over and picked it up, examining the sword before sheathing it, shaking his head. "Well, well, what is lost returns. And what is sacrificed in death is gifted back in life."

Treston met up with Sirion and the two carefully retraced their steps down the ravine, past the captain and his rangers, Sirion stopping long enough to gather weapons and more suitable winter garments along with two canteens. They then continued down the valley toward the thicket where Treston had seen the person land.

Daisho met them just as they got to the frozen expanse where the gunships had been waiting. It was dark by now, the moon still sleeping behind the hills. Even in the darkness, Treston could see that Daisho was limping, favoring one side. He ran up and embraced his companion. "Are you all right?" he asked, looking for any noticeable injury.

Daisho wheezed and smiled, "It was a long drop. That brush eased the fall a little, but not by much. I'll be fine." She looked up the hill toward the distant glow. "What's it all about, Colonel? Are we free of 'em?"

Treston frowned and looked at Sirion. "No, sergeant, not yet. Other business needs tendin' to before we can be free of 'em."

He reached out and took Sirion by the shoulders. "Those commandos who captured you were the same ones who tried to take Ishtar. She had some kind of signal device on her that told them where she was. They tracked you here, too. The captain had some kind of a receiver..." Treston snapped his fingers and reached into his vest pocket. "like this one here, to track you down."

When Treston pushed the button, a little red light began to blink. Raising it up made the light blink faster. Treston stared Sirion in the face. "Your left earring is sending out a signal that our captain followed here..." Treston pulled Ishtar's earring from his pocket. "Just like this drew him to me earlier."

Sirion was dumbfounded. She put her hand to her ear. "Anna gave..." The girl frowned and then burst into tears when the reality of her words struck home, wailing in grief as feelings of betrayal, anger and lost love all mixed into one heart-rending emotion.

Treston could permit little time for such luxury. He waited a moment or two and then firmly gripped Sirion's upper arms. "Pain will always be our brother! Tonight we must make Haste our lover and friend or our efforts here will have been in vain. Take off that earring and we'll be on our way."

Still whimpering, Sirion attempted to comply, struggling with it for several seconds before confessing, "It's locked on! I can't get it!"

Treston nodded understandingly. "Just as Ishtar's was locked on..." He took Sirion by the hand. "Sister, do you trust me?"

Sirion smiled, squeezing Treston's hand, "My love, I have never doubted you."

"Then trust me again this time!" With that, Treston lifted his knife, slicing away Sirion's lower earlobe in one swipe.

The woman winced in pain, letting out a soft cry as the blood forced its way from the wound. Treston dug in his bag for a cloth, pressing it to Sirion's damaged ear. "Sorry, but Time is not our servant this night."

A shrill cry broke the night air. Suddenly the breeze was filled with the flapping of wings as a nighthawk swooped past the party. Dropping to the ground, the bird scooped up the severed earlobe and lifted itself back into the sky, circling around the trio twice, the earring held firmly in its beak. An instant later, the bird had disappeared over the crest of the canyon, heading south.

Treston pulled at the spellbound Sirion. "We must go quickly. I'm sure that someone aboard the gunships sent a report back to base when the captain called for help. We're way too close for comfort...them having a flaming beacon to light their way."

Daisho caught Treston's arm. "Colonel, here's you gun. I didn't forget it... or should I say it didn't forget me."

Treston thanked Daisho, taking Contorie, noticing that she also had the supply bags. "You're a good soldier, Sergeant. No, you're an outstanding soldier!"

The wind suddenly picked up, with a roaring of a tempest to be heard in the upper parts of the mountain. The trio hurried away to the east down the canyon. Sirion asked, "Where to now, Colonel Treston?"

Treston lifted his head as if sniffing the air. "First we leave this mountain for the broad plain below. Next we head north. Somehow it feels warmer in the north to me. We go north."

Daisho let out a cry as she attempted to hurry away with the others, telling them not to wait for her and that she would be right along. The two would have none of that. Sirion and Treston took the sergeant under her arms and assisted her, Treston commenting, "We are not in such a hurry as to leave such a valued prize behind."

Soon a whirling snow pushed by a bitter wind smothered the fire of the gunships and covered any tracks of Treston's party.

The mountain descent was grueling and time-consuming. Clouds returned after nightfall, obscuring what little light the stars might have provided, making every step hazardous. The trail itself was much steeper than the one Sirion had used to climb toward the mountain's summit, and it was crisscrossed with washouts and slippery ravines.

Sirion attempted to guide the party along by seeing her surroundings through her mind. Although a possession of all of Lowenah's children, it was an art that needed to be practiced to make a person proficient with it. Treston had yet to learn how to use this night vision and didn't trust his mind to watch the surroundings dance around in his head with his eyes closed.

Daisho was of no help by this time. She struggled to walk, crying out in pain as she did. It was obvious to Treston and Sirion that Daisho's injuries were greater than first believed, but in the darkness there was no way to examine the sergeant to find out what they might be. On they trudged, Daisho refusing to take a rest, that is, until she was forced to.

About two in the morning, just after they had crawled up the side of another icy ravine, Daisho let out a howl, doubled over, and began to vomit. After several long, agonizing minutes, the woman staggered back to her feet and told the others she was able to go on.

By four o'clock, Daisho was being half carried as she stumbled along. Tears ran down her face as mind-numbing pain racked her body. She finally cried out, "Please leave me here to die!" and then began to sob, whimpering, "Please give me rest here and let me die with no more torture!"

They were down near the foot of the mountain by this time, just entering the edge of a giant conifer forest. Treston eased Daisho to the ground. After comforting her as best he could, he shook his head. "It's all or nothing, Sergeant. We all live or we all die. If you stay, we stay."

Daisho moaned, "I cannot go on. Every movement hurts too much. I cannot!"

Just then, Treston remembered the chews he had in his pocket. Pulling one out and cutting off a small piece, he popped it into Daisho's mouth. "Take this and chew it up good!"

The woman struggled, forcing a few swallows. In a short time she noticed her pain was easing a bit.

Treston pondered their situation a little more, finally asking, "I have an idea. Don't know if it will help or hurt. Are you willing for me to give it a try?"

"Anything!" Daisho exclaimed. "I'll try anything!"

Treston pulled out the tiny flask of whiskey given him by Major Gefen. "Here, drink some of this. I hear that mixin' this with other drugs can be real bad...or it can be real good. Don't have a choice, though. Over the top!"

"Death is better than this!" Daisho gasped, opening her mouth as Treston poured some of the whiskey into it. The woman sucked in a breath as the alcohol burned its way down her throat. As its fire eased, she let out a sigh. "Thank you, Colonel. You really are a good m..." The woman drifted into unconsciousness.

With Sirion's help, Treston gently lifted Daisho up over his shoulder and started into the forest. Sirion assisted Treston so he did not stumble as they continued down the mountain. Speed of escape was now a thing of the past, but neither one mentioned it. As Treston had said, 'It was all or nothing.'

The evergreen forest hugged the foot of the mountain, stretching north and east for some miles, changing to hardwoods near the eastern spur of another mountain range that ran off to the northwest. A few miles past that, hardwoods of oak, beech, and hickory, melted into a low-lying heath filled with bear berries and giant, thorny rosebushes. These were the things Sirion could see as she stood on the last outcropping of the mountain just as morning light crept over the horizon.

The woman carefully crawled back down the rocky cliff into the blackness of the woods. Treston was with Daisho a short distance away, hidden in a thick hemlock grove, waiting her return. She was just beginning to work back through a tangle of low-hanging limbs to get to them when a loud _clop!_ followed by a snort sent her sprawling to the ground, face buried in the snow.

Looking up for signs of what or who might be there, Sirion could only see ghostly shadows, mostly the illusion of her eyes playing tricks on her mind. But there was no mistaking the sounds of some animal, a beast...probably a horse...and a horse meant a rider, and any rider found here would not be a friend.

The woman's heart wanted her to jump up and run as fast as she could further into the forest, but to where? Besides, as her mind assured her, remaining motionless was the safest bet for the moment, at least until she could decide the direction of the noise and just how many animals there might be.

_Clop!_ and another snort, except this time it was closer. Sirion began to panic. The animal was sniffing the ground, coming straight for her. It was soon too late to run. She could feel the animal's hot breath as it smelled the woman's face and hair. And then the horse made a low nicker like such an animal makes when satisfied with what it has found.

Fear gripped Sirion. Visions of what the enemy would surely do to her sent terrifying chills up and down her spine. "Damn!" she cursed under her breath, realizing she had just wet herself. But at least the little wetting episode brought her back to her senses. As she lay there, listening for other movement or a person's voice, the horse nudged her with its muzzle. After the third time of having a cold, moist nose pushed against the side of her face, Sirion decided to chance matters and get up.

Half expecting a boot to the head or worse, Sirion got to her feet, standing motionless. Nothing... She waited, her heart's pounding filling her ears with the pulsing roar of an angry ocean. Still nothing... With a resigned sigh, the woman stepped up to the animal, feeling her way along its shoulder.

Sure enough, there was a saddle but no rider. No rider?! Sirion relaxed in relief. Too soon! Something cold and wet smacked her in the face. Sirion cried out in fright.

A voice some distance away called out, "Are you okay?!" With that, Treston came running or attempted to run as he crashed through the low-lying tree branches. As Treston drew closer, Sirion called back, assuring him everything was fine. Following her voice, he finally found her. Two huge shapes loomed up at him as he pressed through the blackness causing him to stop up short.

"My dear Colonel!" Sirion was grinning, though it was doubtful Treston could tell. "My dear Colonel, we have transportation provided us."

One of the horses snorted, nodding its head up and down, before stepping up to Treston, nuzzling him on the neck and face. It was Treston's turn to grin. "This is SastelloPhantasma, one of the KaminosKtisis from the secret lands of LathraNesion." He patted the horse's mane. "Ysuah said it was bred and raised by the Cherubs and that there exists no other beast in the kingdom of men greater than this steed."

Sirion puzzled, "Who is Ysuah? My dreams have heard you utter that name in fire and rage this very night. Please tell me, for a vision of power and glory haunts my mind at the saying of this name."

Treston slowly shook his head, thinking aloud. "Ysuah? Ysuah? Ysuah is a Cherub whose spirit resides in my sword. Well, it's really VanGoddawin's. He draws me to the North along with Daisho and...and you."

"And me?!" Sirion quizzed, pointing at herself.

Treston explained, "Yes, you. Not that Ysuah told me such. It's here, in my heart, that I know you have been placed on this path for a reason yet unclear to me." He took Sirion by the arm. "But visions of war and the ending of all things pass across my eyes when I think of you. There is a growing blackness that threatens this universe, blacker than this night has been. It reaches out for you, for you are the key to its success or failure."

A chill ran down Sirion's back. "My dear man," she drew close to Treston, wrapping her arms around him, "you make me afraid, filling my soul with dread, for from our last dream share I have recalled a vision so terrifying, so terrifying..." She groaned in dismay, surrendering to the will of her mind. "But from you, I will not hold back my secrets.

"In my dream, I found myself standing upon a burning plain filled with destruction. All the world of men was ablaze, and I...I alone remained alive. Out of the reeking smoke strode red-eyed, horned demons, some riding beasts with hideous heads, others walking behind, their clawed feet carrying them quickly along.

"As I watched in horror, they all began to chant my name, calling out to me with evil vulgarities unfit for any living mouth to speak. In their maniacal laughter, I could hear their song of victory, 'For the maiden does come to us to give us her seed, so the world shall all become like us. Give glory to our god for he has given us life! Now he shall make us great in the land!'

"Over and over the beast-men sang their chant until I quailed upon the ground, crying out to my mother. At that instant, a blinding light flashed across the sky, followed by a thunderous voice, 'The sword that is dead shall live, and the man from of old shall make you new. The beasts that you see today shall be forgotten by you tomorrow. But should you falter, then all will be lost. The North is cold, but heated battle shall arise upon its heights.'"

Treston frowned, asking, "So how does your dream make you afraid of me?"

Sirion lowered her head and spoke in a cautious whisper, "It was what the voice in the thunders told me when I waked that makes me afraid of you, for when I awoke and opened my eyes, I saw you sleeping, but not as you...sweet, caring, you. No! For there, lying beside me rested a creature of the evil lands even more hideous and powerful than those in my dream.

"I screamed in fright, but no sound came. Yet the pain of panic within me burst upon my heart so that I thought I was to die that very moment. Then the voice from out of the thunders spoke in my ear, 'Do not resist the man who will give you life. He shall destroy all that is yours to return you to the beginning. In your foolishness, you surrendered your soul to a god whose beauty led you to ruin. Now this man, through his ugliness and evil, shall give you a rebirth.'

"A cloud passed over my eyes and I forgot the dream and the vision until this very night, when you called out to Ysuah. Now I have become afraid, because I know the bitter hour is near and I do not yet know what it really means. I have nothing. I fear then just what it is that you shall destroy."

They heard Daisho groan in pain.

Treston softly kissed Sirion on the forehead and quietly backed away. "We will speak more of this another time, but we should not tempt the Fates now. These animals did not arrive here by chance, and standing around is wasting the night. We need to be going."

He hurried off as best he could to assist Daisho. After giving her more chew and whiskey, he carried her to the horses. With Sirion's help, Treston managed to gently settle Daisho into the saddle, him sitting behind her, an arm securely wrapped around her waist. After Sirion mounted the second animal, she asked where they should go.

It was still impossible to see under the trees of the deep woods. Treston thought a moment before answering, "SastelloPhantasma didn't arrive here by accident. I believe he knows our destiny better than we do. Hold on and give our mounts the reins."

Swift were the feet of the great KaminosKtisis. He strode the forest as though it were a graded road. Daisho's former steed hurried to keep up, and did acceptably, at least most of the time. Unlike SastelloPhantasma, the smaller mare could not always judge the trail. Sirion wore the effects of low-lying branches long after they had reached journey's end.

By the time the sun rose above the horizon, low clouds shrouded the countryside in a wet, clingy snow. All through the early hours of the morning the travelers' pace did not slow, even when the sounds of aircraft passing overhead could be heard. Out through the evergreen forest and into the hardwoods of beech and oak the horses pushed, only slowing after they had gone far into the heath.

About midmorning, SastelloPhantasma stepped from the main trail into a small glen, surrounded by steep, brush-covered hills. Treston could see a mass of wild rose vines stretching across the path, their thorny tentacles enveloping several small trees. About a rod away from this impenetrable wall, the horse came to a stop and lowered his head, flaring his nostrils, snorting as he pawed the ground.

Sirion slid down from her mount and hurried to Treston. "Wait here. I'll be right back." Off she went toward the thicket.

In a few minutes she returned, telling Treston of a tiny passage that led into the center of the tangled roses. With her help, the two managed to get Daisho down from Treston's horse after which the colonel dropped to the snowy ground.

"This way," Sirion said in a hush. "It's around the other side."

Gently carrying the still unconscious Daisho, Treston followed Sirion until they came to a parting in the thorny vines. It was little more than four feet high and eighteen inches wide, with several thorny brambles reaching into the opening. With a great deal of effort, the two managed to get Daisho through the passage.

Beyond that a chamber of measurable size welcomed the trio. The branchy tentacles of several rose plants grew high into the crowns of twisted hoary thorn oaks, named such because of their gray, whiskered bark and thorny protrusions along their limbs. It was a place hidden in twilight shadows, for the leaves of the trees, though dead, wintered over until the following summer when new buds would force the leaves to fall. And, as Sirion later explained to Treston, the waxy leaves of the mistletoe roseberry remained ever green, creating an impenetrable, opaque curtain.

"We can rest in peace this day," Sirion assured Treston as she cleared a place of its snow for Daisho. "Few castles offer better protection than what we have here. A wild boar could not penetrate these walls of living torment." She studied their surroundings. "Lions have been known to abandon the chase when their frightened prey stumbles into these thickets."

She wiped blood from an opened wound on her face. "The barbed thorns are coated with an anti-coagulant. Should a victim be unfortunate enough to become entangled in the vines, it will often bleed to death in its struggle to escape."

Sirion laughed, somethingTreston had not seen her do since before the prisoner exchange. Pointing to a black-feathered bird perched on a tree branch, she explained, "Another name for the roseberry is the 'raven-rook'. They are known to search these thorny jungles for hapless victims to feast upon, often in the cold of winter when other food is scarce."

As quickly as Treston saw the gleam in Sirion's eyes, he watched it fade followed by a sullen silence. He asked, "Is there distress and danger for us in this place?"

Sirion busied herself with laying out a bedroll, shaking her head. She finally stood, patting away the snow on her legs. "Stay with our patient. I'll get another bedroll from the horses." She began to stoop in order to make her way out of the chamber but stopped and turned around, frowning sadly. "In the First Siege of Memphis, I watched as Legion pitched hundreds of my sisters from the fortress walls into the raven-rooks that grew up their sides after he had mercilessly beaten the women with whips made from the roses' thorns. We were helpless in bringing rescue to our sisters before a horrid death, other than..."

"Other than what...?" Treston innocently asked.

Sirion turned away and began to leave, but stopped again. She quietly answered, "My aim is sure. When I shoot, I kill. Twenty six times, I took aim. Twenty six times, I hit my mark." She hurried away.

Treston turned his attention to Daisho, trying to push from his mind the thoughts that Sirion's account had conjured up. He laid Daisho on the spread-out bedroll and started undoing her uniform to examine her injuries, groaning in dismay at what he saw.

When Sirion returned with more supplies, she saw Daisho wrapped up in Treston's coat. "Does our patient have the chills?" she asked, staring down at Treston who was tenderly stroking the woman's forehead.

Without looking up, Treston called for Sirion to come and have a look see. She kneeled down beside them as the man pulled his coat away. Sirion frowned, placing her hand on the injuries. "Daisho has taken two bullets, one in the groin and the other in the gut."

Treston added, "And she's lost a lot of blood. In all the excitement, she must have thought the fall caused her the pain, forcing her to limp." He stroked Daisho's forehead again, shaking his head. "Our girl's innards are torn up. There's nothing I can do for her here and I have no idea when we'll find medical help."

Sirion handed Treston his coat, and then covered Daisho with the two saddle blankets she had taken from the horses. He stood, staring toward the east. "HerpetonMnema would have a qualified medical team, but its three days' hard ride from here. She'd never last that long."

Sirion shook her head, mumbling something Treston could not hear.

"I'm sorry, but I missed that," Treston apologized.

The woman sat back and looked up at him. "You have no choice but to go north into the Jahouk Mountains. For life or death, we must attempt them."

Treston disagreed. "I don't believe Daisho will endure the journey! It's at least a two day ride at our present pace, and that's if we ride all night." He shrugged, "And what will we encounter when we get there? No! We must find another way."

Standing, Sirion walked up to Treston and took hold of his arm. "You told me that our destiny lay in the north, right?"

Treston agreed.

"If that is the case...and I believe it is, then we must travel north." She turned and walked back to Daisho. "Colonel, it matters little the prize we are seeking. What's important is that we do not give up in its quest."

Treston began to argue, but Sirion stopped him. "You have lived in a world filled with false visions and imaginary gods. Your people believed gods controlled the fate of men and that destiny was a road one was forced to take. Well fate and destiny do not work that way in this realm. Ysuah has placed before you...before us a path. Is it fated? Yes, but only if we choose to stay on it."

She bent down on a knee and began to stroke Daisho's face. "My dear Treston, you believe in one God and you are correct, yet my people have learned to believe in many gods. But to us gods are not for worshiping. We worship no one, at least not in the same sense that you do. Lowenah is my mother, the one person I have given all my allegiance and loyalty to. My heart and soul are one with hers."

Sirion stared back at Treston. "But I don't worship my mother, for it is love she seeks from her children, not worship." She paused for her words to sink in. "The gods of this universe are real, and they can affect our destiny in ways strange and wonderful. We, though, have to trust they will lead us in a way that gains success."

Pointing toward the entrance, she explained, "Ysuah has set us on a road to some kind of destiny. I trust for his part he will not falter in achieving success. But success is not necessarily based upon our individual outcome. No! He is a Cherub and, as such, he sees far beyond our lives and into the very core of the universe. For all we know, Ysuah has sent us down a road that will lead to our eventual demise. Should that be the case, what better way to die?"

Sirion stood again. "Look, Ysuah is with us at this very moment...must be. If he chooses for Daisho to live, should it be forty days and nights, she will live. If she dies, who better is there than Ysuah to care for her in the Field of the Minds?" She walked over and kissed Treston on the lips. "Do not fear the future. You are now in my world. Just stay on the road your heart has shown you and you will not be defeated."

A distant drone of approaching gunships disturbed the peaceful quiet. Sirion shuddered, digging her fingers into Treston's arms. The two stood silent, listening until the ships' sounds faded away.

Treston looked down at Sirion, an impish grin on his face, asking, "Remember how you said it was our responsibility to stay on the road given us? Well, what if our road north leads us through Memphis? Maybe those ships were helping us find our destiny."

Sirion scowled and pushed herself away from Treston, sputtering, "You...! You...! One need not desire the road. And many things that happen along it aren't necessarily part of the purposed journey. I'm not a fatalist. I will do whatever it takes to save my ass from those evil bastards!"

Treston smiled, "You tend to confuse my sensibilities regarding fate and destiny. We will need to discuss this matter in greater length at a later time. For now, I feel much the same as you. If Ysuah desires our company at Memphis, he'll have to make his wishes more clear."

Pulling his sword from its sheath, Treston began to hack a larger opening in the passage. "If we're to stay well hidden today, our horses must be out of sight as well."

In short order, the animals were cared for, making things 'cozy' as Treston called it. SastelloPhantasma was fed some food pellets kept in a small pocket on its saddle. He being a KaminosKtisis needed little else other than water to be well fed. Daisho's mare was of common stock, needing feed for regular horses, so the animal had to make do with what grass she could paw from under the snow.

Treston and Sirion trusted to the security of the raven-rook, paying no heed to possible dangers. Around noon, Treston awoke to Daisho's cries. He did what he could for her, but other than offer the woman more of his chew and whiskey, he was at a loss. Sirion awoke about this time. After watching a while, she suggested Daisho's need to keep her fluids up.

Treston agreed, but asked how it could be done. Sirion stood and stretched then reached for a canteen. "We can't get her to drink until she awakes. Don't give her any of your drugs 'til she does."

While Daisho was coming to, Sirion searched through the leafy briers of the rose's thorny branches. In a little while she returned, kneeling down beside Treston. "These berries contain powerful medicine that helps the body absorb water quickly. We can make a tea with them. Even with Daisho's wounds, she should get a reasonable amount of water in her system."

Treston bemoaned the fact that making a fire would be too dangerous, wishing they could have hot tea to give their patient. Sirion rummaged through the baggage from the horses, but found nothing. Treston then suggested she search Daisho's shoulder bag. "I saw her stuff all kinds of things in it when we were with the transports."

Sure enough, Sirion found several heat packets. Treston grinned, "I thought maybe. She had lamented the fact that we were having our last hot meal when we camped yesterday. I figured she'd sneak a few packets if there were any to be found."

By the time Daisho was conscious enough to drink liquids, she was greeted with a steaming cup of rosehips tea. Treston was truly surprised at how much she drank. His spirits rose a little. Maybe the woman would survive until medical help was found. When she finished, Treston gave her a little more of the chew but held back the whiskey. There was but a small amount left and he knew the coming journey would be difficult enough for healthy riders. He hoped to dope up his charge so she would not feel the ordeal. Soon the camp was settled back down, an occasional snore the only sound to be heard.

The sun was beginning to fade when Sirion awoke. She let Treston sleep on for a little while longer, preparing a hot soup made from foodstuffs in his and Daisho's shoulder bags. Daisho could eat nothing but was given more tea which helped satisfy her hunger. Sirion picked up the remainder of the camp goods, saddled the horses, and led them from the thorny chamber into the star-filled evening.

Lifting Daisho's head, Treston gave her a hearty drink of whiskey that had been soaking a large wad of chew for some hours. They had not cleared the passage before the woman was limp and unconscious. With Sirion's assistance, he managed to place Daisho on a padded blanket in front of him. He then strapped doubled up belts around the both of them to secure her in the saddle. When ready, the party returned to the path, disappearing into the night.

* * *

Legion smashed a fist into his opened palm. His frustration at hearing about the loss of his captain and Sirion's escape had turned to joy with reports from the sergeant and wounded ranger and their tales about Treston and Daisho. In conference with his lieutenants, it was decided that Sirion and her rescuers were on their way north, to the Jahouk.

He stood, pacing the room, complaining to his Special Forces general, "I will not risk another fiasco such as your people caused this last time! There will be no chances taken now." He turned and addressed General StokJakke. "I want you to take one of your armored brigades along with two mobile infantry brigades north into those mountains. Bar the Gate of EpipHaneia so that no one can enter there."

General StokJakke paled, stuttering, "My... my... my Lord... the haunted mountains are..."

Legion's face flushed red. "There is no such thing, fool!" He paused, knowing what his general was speaking about. For these many thousands of years he had avoided the Jahouk, too, but he could never admit to his personal fear of the mountains. Still, reconsidering his intended rebuke, Legion softened his reply. "My dear General, there are many rumors that abound in strange places, and this planet is a strange place. Do not quail. I ask not that you enter the mountains, but to just place a guard over their gate. Look, the Pass of Korteniaz opens at the base of the mountains. Anyone entering or leaving must use that pass."

Striking a relaxed pose with his hands clasped behind his back, Legion continued, "Your forces need only to maintain a strong presence in the wide valley in front of the pass. You will not have to enter the mountains themselves." He rubbed his chin in thought. "I am also sending my rangers into that region. They will be on the watch for these people. It's quite possible that they will be apprehended long before they reach your vicinity."

After pacing a little more, Legion placed his hands on the table, glancing around at his lieutenants. "I have reason to believe that this rescue was not done by a small number of people. This Colonel Treston and his... his whatever, were only decoys or advanced spies. We know that the man had the earring belonging to Ishtar, the child from the forgotten past, and we have found Sirion's earring far to the south of where she was captured. It must be concluded that there are many more enemy vermin skulking around than superficially appears."

He again turned to General StokJakke. "Our enemy must surely know the value we place on Sirion. She was our prize bargaining chip at the prisoner exchange..." He soured, rubbing his arm as if paining him, "that is until Godenn surrendered her up to that stupid oaf!" He shook his head. "It's with this knowledge that I am sending such a large contingent to stop these people."

Legion was now on a roll. His ears loved to hear his own wisdom echoing off the walls. After a lengthy tirade regarding his marvelous abilities defending Memphis without the promised help from Asotos, he went on a rant about how evil the enemy was regarding war, prisoners, and every other wicked act perpetrated by them. Much of his spiel was oft repeated, making for dismally boring speech. At the end, before he dismissed his officers, he emphasized Sirion's personal importance to him, offering a handsome reward to the man who delivered her up alive.

Stopping General StokJakke before he exited the room, Legion drew him aside and quietly warned, "Keep a wary eye to the east, General. It would not surprise me to see the enemy, in force, move up from there. Sirion's a greater prize than you might imagine."

The general silently saluted and hurried from the room. In less than two hours, hundreds of armored guns and personnel carriers were pulling out of the trenches north of Memphis in an attempt to recapture a woman who controlled future's destiny.

* * *

Captain Asarel was just reaching for a cup of hot tea, savoring its rich aroma when a midshipman burst through the door. "Sir, you're needed on the bridge right away!"

The captain frowned, scolding, "This better not be another one of those false alarms or I'll keelhaul the lot of you on the bridge!"

The midshipman shook her head, vehemently denying it was so. "No sir! No sir! First officer needs you on the bridge. Needs to know if you want to sound general quarters."

Other officers overhearing the midshipman perked up. The captain motioned them to relax as he stood. "This is the third time tonight the bridge has asked me if general quarters were to be ordered. It's probably another one of those anomalies, common to these skies." The two exited the officers' lounge for the bridge.

After the first mate greeted the captain, she showed him the projection screen, pointing to a slowly moving blip. "We have been tracking it for twenty minutes. It definitely is not some anomaly. Its course and speed are too constant."

After studying it, Captain Asarel asked, "have you tried hailing it?"

"Not yet, Sir," replied the first officer.

The captain thought a moment before issuing his orders. "Put the ship on alert, but do not sound general quarters. No unnecessary noises right now. Then send this message on a hailing frequency, 'This is the cruiser DusmeAstron of the Children's Empire. Identify yourself and the purpose of your intrusion into this quadrant.' Follow it with the Navy's current communications code."

The bridge waited for a response. Just as the captain was preparing to order battle stations, the communication's officer reported a weak signal coming in. It read, 'DusmeAstron, this is the imperial brigantine Shikkeron'. Then silence.

Captain Asarel pondered a moment. He finally turned to Captain Joleck, his first officer. "A foul breeze blows ever from the east. Shall the wolf openly announce his presence to the flock?"

First Officer Joleck concurred. "Sir, the frigate Azzariah fell prey to such a ploy just last month to the cost of her entire crew."

Captain Asarel decided to take no chances, ordering his bridge officer to sound battle stations. He then called to his communication's officer, "Send this message, 'There is no imperial brigantine Shikkeron in the Empire's Navy. Identify yourself and the reason for your intrusion in this quadrant'. Repeat our response code."

After a few breathless moments, the navigation officer called out, "Bogie is slowing to a stop, Sir!"

This was quickly followed by the communications officer reporting, "Message, Sir. 'DusmeAstron, this is the imperial brigantine Shikkeron, just off from damage patrol in the Nebulan Cloud Bank. Captain BedanSheba, chief officer and ArdonAzubahKenath, acting first offic...' Sorry. That is the end of the message."

Captain Asarel ordered the communications officer to resend the previous transmission, adding, "Tell them to identify themselves along with the proper response code or else prepare to be engaged."

"Sir," the navigation officer reported, "the bogie has come to a complete stop."

Asarel asked her, "Do you find any other ships on your screen?"

"No, Sir."

He then asked his bridge officer, "Can we put a sonic trace on them to get a blue print of who they may possibly be."

The bridge officer checked with the others on the command bridge before replying. "No, Sir, the bogie is too distant. Our scans to date pick up only a single engine's impulse which is far too weak for an imperial brig."

The communications officer called out, "We have received no response to our last request. Shall I send another?"

"Yes, tell them if they do not reply satisfactorily within two minutes, we shall consider them a hostile power and an enemy at war."

Tension grew on the bridge as the minutes ticked past. Still there was no response. After four minutes of silence with no reply, First Officer Joleck asked, "Shall we prepare torpedoes and close to engage, Sir?"

Captain Asarel took another moment to consider all his options. The wise course was to move within missile range, render the intruder harmless with a massive damage strike, and then advance the fighters to make an investigative report. That was the wisest and least dangerous course for the captain's ship and crew. But a feeling growing in the pit of the captain's stomach warned not to act so wisely. Finally Asarel ordered the release of six of his fighters to make a cautious advance upon the potentially hostile target. "Do not engage unless first provoked," he ordered them.

The squadron of Penquate V's, small fighter patrol ships, glided gracefully in a wide arc, passing from Q-southwest to north Q-north. Keeping within constant communication with their mother ship, they advanced to within visual range of the target.

When the fighters were less than eight leagues away, the squadron leader radioed DusmeAstron. "This is GrayStar leader. I see a ship of brigantine size class, but its lines are old... must be at least three hundred years, but with modern modifications as if refitted."

The captain replied to GrayStar leader, "Hold your current position until receiving further orders or provoked." He then turned to his officers. "Do we have any records of Shikkeron and its layout, any modifications or refits?"

Two officers hurried away to find whatever available information might exist on DusmeAstron concerning Shikkeron. While waiting, Joleck cautioned, "Sir, such an ancient ship might well be in anyone's navy. Why, even the Stasis have been known to resurrect such hulks and use them in their raids. That would explain the single, underpowered engine pulses. They make due with what junk they can find."

Asarel agreed. Joleck made another point. "Even if this ship is Shikkeron, somehow delivered back from the pits of abomination, who's to say who's aboard? Shikkeron went off our radar over ten months ago, and in a quadrant several dozen light years from here. If it had used a portal to arrive here, the Navy would have known it. There would have been no other way for it to have traveled this far undetected from where it was last reported to be. The whole world knows the members of the crew of Shikkeron. Even the degenerate Stasis could rattle off a few names to pacify their foe. And the communication failure, what are the chances of such a thing happening with a modern ship of war?"

Captain Asarel was not yet swayed. His feelings still held him in check. "Captain Joleck, you are a wise lieutenant and counselor. That's why I requested you be my first mate, instead of giving you your own ship just yet. Still, I do not fear the Stasis, for if it is one of theirs, we should not fear it at all. Their piss cannons couldn't stop a gun buss with a drunked up crew. What concerns me is our real enemy trying to pass themselves off as Stasis."

A report from GrayStar leader interrupted the conversation. "I am detecting a pulsing light coming from the forward section of the ship. Its pulses vary in length and intensity."

The captain asked if it appeared that the ship was acting aggressively. GrayStar leader's answer was negative. Captain Asarel asked if GrayStar leader could transmit a visual of the light pulses, to which he replied, "yes".

Pictures from GrayStar leader were projected on the screen above the bridge. To the casual observer, little could be seen other than a blur of light flashes varying in intensity. After studying it carefully, Captain Asarel asked the communication's officer to run the images through the ship's computers to find any possible algorithims in them. What was discovered surprised them all.

The communications officer, studying her personal screen, let out an audible gasp, then called to the captain, "Sir! Sir, the message is for you! It reads, 'Captain AsarelStorole, do you wish to know the meaning of your ship's name?'"

* * *

### Section 22:

"I, the Kriggerman"

The rumble of distant explosions shook the bunker, causing lights to flicker and dust to drift down from the many fissures in the concrete ceiling and walls. Sounds of heavy machines coupled with shouts of hurried soldiers echoed along the narrow hallway and through the opened door. Amidst all this seeming confusion, a man dressed in a brown and green camouflage uniform was calmly stuffing a duffle bag with items scattered on a small table.

Navy captain AnkuraChiton entered the room, anxiously addressing the uniformed man. "My Lord Symeon, the wounded and other passengers are aboard. You, alone, remain. There is little time for us to make our escape. You must come with me now!"

Symeon continued to pack his duffle bag, saying nothing.

The captain walked over to Symeon, placing a hand on his forearm, the tenor of her voice revealing the tenseness of the moment. "My lord, Klaio must depart soon or our window of escape will be closed! We are the last to go! If you do not come with me, there will be no way out of here for you!"

Symeon turned and looked into Captain Ankura's eyes, smiling. "As I told you last evening, I shall not be going with you."

Captain Ankura's voice rose with excitement. "My Lord...you...you are part of the king's council! You must be by Michael's side to add your wisdom to her decision-making! You..."

Symeon interrupted, "When the herd is in the pen, then debate may be had concerning its safety. But when the fence is broken and the herd dispersed, debate and counsel are no longer necessary."

A more violent explosion shook the bunker, toppling furniture and sending huge chunks of stucco crashing to the floor. Both the captain and Symeon looked toward the south as if the several feet of stone and steel were glass windows. Tilgath on Pilneser was dying as they stood there. Already its center was in rubble and aflame. From there, the retreating army was reaching ever closer, destroying everything the enemy might find of value.

The captain began to argue with Symeon. "It was at the personal request of our lord and king, Michael, that the convoy risked the departure of the barquentine Klaio along with the cutters Rizion and Leviathan to make a rescue of you from this place. It is my duty to escort you from here before the situation becomes untenable!"

Symeon snapped the clasps closed on his duffle bag and picked up his helmet. "Do not plague me with guilt for it will not work. You came here to rescue many others as well as me. That you have done. Now, as for me, I stand by what I have said. Besides, the council is already broken, not to be mended until this war comes to an end. So many of the king's wise ones have scattered to the wind. One more doing the same will make little difference."

Captain Ankura would not be put off. Her duty was to bring Symeon with her. She resisted the man's arguments. It did no good.

A voice came over the intercom, calling for everyone to evacuate the bunker. Symeon picked up the remainder of his gear and led Ankura from the room, explaining as they walked, "I abandoned my fellows once, denying the greatest love in my life. To this day, I carry that guilt. I will not abandon my fellows this day. For life or death, I will remain here with my brothers. I cowered once and never will again."

They reached the end of the corridor, stopping in the early morning light just as an armored battalion of long-range howitzers along with a smattering of troop transports were passing by on their way north. A rickety lorry pulled out of the line and came to a squealing halt near Symeon and the captain. The driver shouted to Symeon, "We have five minutes to git, Sir! The whole place is goin' up as soon as we're clear!"

Symeon bid the captain goodbye, climbing into the back of the lorry already filled with soldiers and supplies. The captain stepped up to the rear gate, gripping his hand after he was aboard. Anxiously, she asked, "What shall I tell the king, my Lord?!"

The lorry began to pull back into line, leaving the captain standing alone with her orderlies. Symeon shouted back to her, "Tell our king not to forget us! Send whatever aid is possible! Tell her that I will not wait for the cock to crow to discover myself... not this time!"

(Author's note _: Tilgath on Pilneser...its roots went back over four thousand millennia. Few of Lowenah's children had not strolled its broadways and basked in its beauty of eternal summer. It was a city, home to thousands and visited by millions on their sojourns into the frontiers of space. Now it laid in ruins, never to be rebuilt to its former glory, the artistry of its countless craftsmen forever gone._

_Asotos' original intent had been to make a feint upon Pilneser in hope of pulling part of Gabrielle's fleet away from MueoPoros. When he realized how weak the planet's_ _defenses were, orders were issued to stage a real invasion. Several small towns and villages fell to his first onslaught, but soon the defenders slowed the enemy's advances long enough to implement the War Council's 'scorched earth' policy._

Pilneser was the first planet to be systematically euthanized. Domestic animals were poisoned, fields burned and torn up, cities leveled. In some cases, thermostatic nuclear weapons were used in their obliteration. In the final outcome, Asotos' soldiers possessed little more than a wilderness filled with vengeful defenders who sought not the defeat of their enemy but the very extermination of them.

Planetary invasion and conquest were complicated and difficult tactical maneuvers, incorporating several branches of the military. To be truly successful, the opponent needed to be defeated in the skies above the planet as well as on the ground. If one's navy could not command the skies, the enemy could be resupplied and reinforced, foiling the takeover. Unlike Pilneser, MueoPoros was invaded, but there had never been a plan to conquer it. Pilneser, though, was conquered, falling to the League of Brothers and remaining a conquered planet for several years until the enemy abandoned it because of the changing winds of war.

A detailed account of the occupancy of Pilneser can be found in Krauge's "Death in the Mist". Krauge was a gorilla commando during the enemy's occupation, eventually taking charge of the southern army. Her candid observations and exhaustive accounts of heroism against impossible odds is a highly recommended study.

It is my opinion that Asotos' struggle to maintain occupancy of Pilneser and other captured star systems was not wasted on the Children's Empire. I believe the major reason for the intensity of the Day of Black Fire was based upon the knowledge gained at seeing how difficult it was to occupy planets. Mihai's armies rarely took possession of any planet, but instead sought to destroy all traces of civilization before abandoning it as they swept forward in their drive to expel Asotos from the First Realm.)

Alba made her way back up the long embankment after having a lengthy conversation with Colonel Skorpizo, commander of the Fourth Mounted Grenadiers, or at least what was left of them. The regiment had suffered fifty percent casualties over the months of fighting, with their mounts suffering worse. The colonel had joked with Alba when they had talked. "Yep, with some salt, garlic and winter greens, mule meat don't taste so bad."

The Fourth Mounted Grenadiers were camped to the rear and a little south of the 9th Volunteer Regiment, holed up in a series of scrub-covered ravines. This was the first break the regiment had since the battle for the Silk, covering over two hundred leagues, much of it behind enemy lines.

The motto of the Grenadiers was, 'With eyes ever forward, we ride until we fall'. It was a sad truth concerning the bravery of such mounted soldiers. The dead were often left where they fell. The wounded remained behind when they could no longer ride, their only hope that air rescue might find them. Being a mounted grenadier in the King's War was lonely and dangerous.

Alba could not help but marvel at the bravery and tenacity of the mounted grenadiers. It was not as much the combat and risks those soldiers took. After all, the 9th had suffered heavier losses than the Fourth Mounted, but the idea of being alone in a hostile sea with no place to run away from the enemy? Well, that was more than Alba thought she could handle.

And there was the constant threat of being wounded and left to the mercies of the wild, the unpredictable weather and most terrifying, the enemy, should they find you. Alba refused to allow her mind to drift with such thoughts. Prisoners, especially female, suffered indescribably at the hands of their captors, at best being refused the least of necessities for human dignity, and that was at best. In their advance from the Silk Mountains, she had seen the results of too many of the enemy's exploits with hapless prisoners.

The sun was dipping over the horizon, taking with it any warmth it had provided during the day. Soon the mercury would fall below zero, making for the eighth straight night of sub-zero Fareinheit temperatures. Alba pulled her coat tight as she trudged the last leg of the slope below camp. Shaking her head, she muttered, "Better get my children tucked into bed. Gonna be another cold one."

Colonel Xurao was newly returned to command, removing some of the load Alba had carried when she directed the regiment, but only some. The colonel had recommended her for a field position of major and to be placed as his second in command. He had also approved Alba's conditions for accepting it by making Kfir a first lieutenant and her official aide.

As she reached the rise behind the encampments, Alba saw the now Lieutenant Kfir hurrying toward her, his pace slowed by the sling swaddling splints and bandages on his arm. The man refused to leave his post to have his wound treated, settling for whatever the field surgeons could provide. Alba would have laughed to see him running awkwardly if the look on the man's face was not so serious. She picked up her pace.

Kfir was still some distance away when he began calling out to Alba, encouraging her to hurry. Upon arrival, he took her hand, squeezing it. The gravity of the moment could be seen by the expression on his face. "Major! Major! We have no time to waste!"

Alba was taken aback, bewildered, asking, "What is it, Lieutenant? Has Command issued us marching orders?"

Kfir excitedly gripped Alba's hand, shaking his head. "No! No, listen, Major! Please listen to it! You, alone, can discern the truth of matters!"

Stunned and confused, Alba paused to listen, but for what? She strained her ears. Nothing... Seeing Kfir's distress, she tried again and then again. Just as the woman was about to surrender up the moment and ask Kfir to explain himself, she noticed the faintest of droning sounds in the back of her head. As she listened, it became evident to her that the sound was not in the air but coming up through her feet. Something...or several somethings afar off or high in the sky...was creating vibrations that the ground was picking up and transmitting to them.

Alba's face went ashen when she became aware of what was happening. She let out a cry, "My children!" and broke into a run for camp, Kfir attempting to keep up. Wasting no time, she headed straight for the communications compound.

Not far from the communications station sat an old hand-crank siren, a relic preserved for emergencies when all power might fail. Without waiting to talk with anyone, Alba ran to the siren and taking it with both hands, began cranking the handle with all her might.

_WHAAAA! WHAAAA! WHAAAA_ _!_ the siren wailed. _WHAAA! WHAAA! WHAAA_ _!_ it continued until the entire camp was in a tumult. Everywhere, soldiers were making for battle stations or diving for cover, dousing fires and killing lights.

_WHAAA! WHAAA! WHAAA_ _!_ a distant siren broke into its screaming song, then another, and another. Within only moments, dozens of sirens were crying all along the Army's ten league line.

Amid all this noisy confusion, Colonel Xurao arrived, shouting above the din, "What are you doing, Major?!"

Alba stared wildly at the colonel while continuing to crank the siren's handle, shouting back, "We're under attack! We're under attack! We need to tell base to give us air support! All they got! All they got!"

The colonel began to argue about procedure and protocol. Desperation flashed in Alba's eyes. She let go the crank handle and clutching the colonel's coat, getting in his face, angrily demanded, "You tell base command to get every one of their goddamned ships in the sky and to do it now! The enemy's unleashed a thousand fighters and bombers on us and they'll be here in a few minutes!"

The stunned colonel's face flushed red. Kfir, who had just arrived, stopped the man before he made a retort. "You'd better do as the Witch of Endor says, Sir, or you'll have a bloodbath on your hands! Don't ask her how she knows. Just thank Mother that she is with us on this day."

An officer popped his head from the communications bunker, calling out to the colonel, "Sir, we have bogies to the east coming in real low. Can't tell the number."

Colonel Xurao was not slow-witted, and he did not need to seek counsel when situations were tight. He whirled around and began issuing orders. "Tell base command we're soon to be engaged by a thousand enemy aircraft! Tell them we need everything they have! Do it!" He waved his arm at the dawdling officer. "Do it now!"

"Yes, Sir!" the officer cried, and quickly turned away.

The colonel ordered a soldier to keep the siren going. Turning to another officer, he shouted, "Get on the cable and tell Division Headquarters our situation. Then notify all batteries to prepare for air attack!"

The officer nodded acknowledgement of the order and hurried away.

Turning to Alba, Xurao rested his hand on her arm. "Sorry, Major, for my reaction. Now, please, get back to your soldiers and help them secure their positions."

Alba hurried back down the line, checking on her captains and their officers. Rumor had it that these rugged hills some twenty leagues east of the Silk Mountains were to be winter quarters for Winehardts' Division. Hoping the rumor was true, the 9th Volunteers as well as several other regiments had begun digging in as soon as the hills were successfully occupied seven days before.

Scanning the regiment's encampments, Alba breathed a sigh of relief. Deep trenches crisscrossed the entire area, connecting to the many well-hidden bomb-proofs and weapon's batteries. Thanks to Kfir, the division had received an early warning, thus providing time for people to seek shelter. Besides that, when the enemy arrived, they could now be met with a heavy defensive action.

But a foreboding still lingered in Alba's heart. It was as if other, fainter sounds still echoed in her head. With closed eyes and fingers touching her temples, she concentrated on the nagging shadow talk in the back of her mind. Suddenly her eyes popped open and she went on a run for the nearest communications station, cursing her carelessness.

Bursting through the door of the tiny communications room, Alba shouted to the operator, who was bent over her wireless, "Contact Colonel Xurao! Tell him the enemy army's on the move! Light armor and infantry about three leagues' distance! Coming up through the Tendian Forest region..." She paused in thought a moment. "And also through CrogGandal Pass. Can't tell the number, but they're coming fast."

After shouting the orders twice more to a dumbfounded radio operator, the message got sent to the colonel. With Alba's work there done, she rushed out the door nearly bowling Kfir over. As tears of pain filled his eyes, he suggested they find cover. They started running for their command bunker, about two hundred yards' distance.

Halfway there, the deafening roar of surface-to-air missiles erupted along the entire line, casting blinding flashes across a darkening landscape. The force of rocket exhausts smothered Alba and Kfir in a stifling storm of dry, powdery snow that was lying thick upon the ground, forcing them to stop until the blizzard cleared. It proved nearly fatal. They barely reached the safety of their bunker when bombs began falling.

Enemy fighters came in first, led by the fast, powerful Depoues 49's, followed by an assortment of older jet-type aircraft. Just how much damage Winehardt's missiles had wrought on the enemy was unknown, but it did appear as if the first attack wave's strike was less coordinated than expected.

After the initial strike, the fighters swooped back and forth along the lines, using up their remaining ordnance and strafing anything moving. Missile and cannon batteries kept up a heavy defense but against the supersonic fighters were of little use. It wasn't until enemy bombers arrived overhead that Winehardt's Division received any serious air support.

Alba and Kfir were huddled on the floor with six other soldiers when they heard the _chuffa...chuffa...chuffa_ of their own VoshanShars as they swept past the bunker just above ground level. Alba could no longer lie there, wondering what was happening. Against Kfir's advice, she stood up and opened the steel blast plate covering a narrow window-slit facing east.

The counterattack on Asotos' air arm was not carried out in one massive strike but was introduced piecemeal, reducing its effect on the enemy. The brave pilots who came in with the first wave did not fight as though they were far out-numbered and out-gunned, and there were none braver than those who flew in the 3rd VoshanShar Stinger Battalion. Even the Depoues 49 squadrons dreaded facing the 3rd.

Alba watch in stunned amazement as the squat VoshanShars mixed it up with the enemy's fighters and bombers. Florescent crimson, green, and blue tracers filled the sky as opponents played the deadly game of who could kill the other first. The major had to continually remind herself that those beautiful streamers carried destruction and carnage with them.

The 'doodle bugs'- the infantry's common name for the VoshanShar because of its bouncy, erratic actions in combat \- mesmerized Alba. She was hypnotized by their heroic antics. Unlike most other fighters, these ships could stop and even reverse in mid-flight. They could also fly sideways while dancing up and down, engaging ground forces. While other fighters would blast by in a blur, a ground observer had time to study the doodle bug.

As the fighting in the air raged above, Alba's warning of a ground attack was being given serious heed. A barrage of missiles from the PrasiaOdous bases pummeled the Tendian Forrest and CrogGandal Pass with needle and cluster bomb warheads. For concentrated mobile units and infantry on foot, such weapons were devastating. The enemy army was forced to scatter, delaying its planned attack.

For twenty minutes, Alba stared out the window-slit, watching the ever-changing pageantry of air war. Amid the deafening cacophony of missile and cannon fire, ground-shaking explosions of bombs, and rattle of rapid-fire weapons, Alba observed each side winning victories and taking losses. One time she found herself puzzling over her own feelings when she groaned at the loss of an enemy ship after its pilot had fought so valiantly. "War is such a strange bedfellow."

By this time most of Command's available fighters were up, with the Navy adding several of its TKR 14's and 17's. The cutters DorshonBay, Gooseberry, and PorCenia, and the frigate TaunKanzia which had been moored at PrasiaOdous Navy Depot also joined in the battle. These combined navy and air forces, along with the enemy's fighters' dwindling weapons supplies, forced the battle into the Children's Empire's favor.

But the battle did not quickly end. A second wave of enemy fighters, albeit mostly older models, swept into the fray. It was during this part of the conflict that Alba watched a VoshanShar tumble from the sky and crash onto snowy flats about a mile away. Grabbing night vision sensors, she could see one of the crew struggling to extricate herself from the wreck.

Everything happened so fast after that, Alba could recall little but sketchy visions of those events. Two other VoshanShars came in to help, one attempting to land. Just then, a small squadron of enemy gunships came in low over the distant forest. Sizing up the danger, the VoshanShars rose to meet the new threat, attempting to drive the gunships away. A heavy firefight ensued.

Some of the gunships slipped away and dropped back to the edge of the forest, unloading dozens of rangers into the dark of the trees. At seeing this, Alba cried out for the rescue of the trapped fighter crew. Again, despite Kfir's protest, he and Alba along with two-dozen volunteers were soon on the ground, running toward the crash sight.

They were not the only ones interested in reaching the downed ship. Already, the enemy rangers were making their way from the forest, opening up sporadic gunfire on Alba's rescue team. By diving into the snow, jumping up and bolting a few yards and then diving back down, Alba's troopers approached to within a quarter mile of the fighter before being pinned down.

Alba made one more attempt to get closer, but just as she stood, a mortar round exploded in front of her, pitching both her and Kfir back, tumbling into the snow. Coming to her senses, Alba rolled onto her back and sat up. Her whole face felt numb. Blood ran into her eyes and mouth, but she wasn't dead. Thinking quickly, the major fell forward onto her belly, ducking from enemy sight.

Then came a rising panic as Alba wondered about Kfir. Was he also wounded... or worse, was he dead? His muffled voice, reassuring her he was still quite alive, eased the constricting pain in her chest.

But what was the major to do now? She could not see, oozing blood blinding her. And the numbness was rapidly retreating, a painful throbbing taking its place. Here they were, pinned down by the enemy, a moonlit evening brightening the crystal clear sky. Without some kind of cover, the rescuers would soon become the ones needing rescue. What to do?

Bowing her head in concentration, Alba could see the members of her rescue team in her mind. Three were wounded, but not seriously. To the woman's surprise, she found that if she focused her thoughts on a particular soldier, the person would respond as if hearing her speaking. Soon she realized that she could communicate her thoughts to several people at once. She rested her face in the refreshingly cold snow, pondering what to do next.

Lying in the darkness, Alba became aware that she wasn't blind. She could see clearly the entire plain in her mind, even zooming in on specific locations. She focused on the crew of the doodle bug. One was dead and the other two were injured, one seriously. She then saw enemy rangers crawling toward the downed ship, less than a hundred yards from it. The helplessness of watching this turn of events was making the woman heartsick.

What they needed was a snowstorm. But how could Alba gather a storm... how? There were no clouds. Then she thought about their narrow escape from death when the missiles riled the air, sending billowing clouds of snow into the sky. That was it! Maybe Alba could muster the wind demons and bring a ground storm.

Again rolling onto her back, Alba raised her arms skyward, spreading them as she did. Emptying her mind of all other thoughts, she conjured up a cyclonic blizzard in her mind. As the picture solidified in front of the woman's eyes, words began to form on her lips. She shouted toward the sky, " _Goe Bindie Kirak Coe Teczie! Goe Bindie Kirak Coe Teczie! Teczie! Teczie! Teczie!"_

Laying there in anticipation of what might happen, at first Alba heard or felt nothing. Then, just above the din of battle, she began to hear a distant roar. Sweeping down from the surrounding hills, a tempest rushed in upon the valley plain. With the crash of a giant thunderclap, winds smashed together over Alba's head, violently tearing at the frozen ground, ripping the powdery snow heavenward, creating a blinding storm covering the entire plain and reaching thousands of feet into the sky.

"Up and forward!" Alba cried out with her mind. "To me! To me!" she shouted in her thoughts as she jumped up and began running toward the broken ship.

Her soldiers struggled to keep up with their leader. Alba could see clearly through her mind, the snow and darkness not affecting her inner sight, making it easy for the woman to hurry along, but she was unable to hold her concentration with her troopers, often leaving them groping along blindly. Despite these drawbacks, Alba's squad made good headway, reaching the VoshanShar in a few minutes.

It took some time to extricate the crew from the crippled ship. All the while, Alba tried to stay in tune with the enemy's movements. She noticed that they mostly remained prone on the ground, unable to advance or retreat. The major also noted that the enemy's electronic search devices did not work well either.

There was another observation the woman made that concerned her considerably. Alba could feel a sickening fatigue growing in her bones. It was as if the storm was drawing off her energy to live. If that were the case, she wondered how long the storm would last before it sapped her inner strength. Would they be able to escape before the storm died away? "Hurry along now!" Alba shouted through bleeding lips and broken teeth. "We must hurry!"

Refusing to leave the dead crewmember behind was dashing, but foolhardy. By the time the rescuers started back, Alba's legs were becoming rubbery. As they retraced their steps, the winds began to die. With all her effort, the woman managed to push the winds for a little while longer. Finally, she let out one last exhaustive cry, collapsing in the snow.

Alba awoke to the hubbub of a noisy medical room. The commotion was nearly as deafening as the earlier fighting had been. She heard countless voices asking questions, issuing orders, all mixed with mumblings and cries of the wounded. Indescribable pain racked her body as she attempted to sit up. She laid her head back, moaning in agony.

"There, there, Major." A gentle hand rested on her arm. "No need to worry, all your chicks are home...home and safe." It was Colonel Xurao.

Alba nodded. There was little else she could do. Her mouth was filled with gauze and her face bandaged and stitched. Thick wrappings covered the woman's eyes. She was later told that tiny particles of shrapnel had penetrated both eyeballs.

Despite chilling pain, Alba could see a hazy picture of the colonel through her mind. She reached up, taking his hand. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, especially how she wanted to remain with the regiment.

The colonel squeezed her hand. "My dear Major Alba, you saved many lives this day. Without your early warning, I fear that thousands would have fallen to the enemy attack, not to mention the possibility of capture or rout." He kissed Alba on the cheek and spoke softly in her ear. "Even now, our forces are pushing the foe, driving them to the east. Our position here is now secure, thanks to you."

Alba was too exhausted to do little more than nod. She could see the colonel smile, a tear growing in his eye. Unable to speak, she attempted to communicate with her mind, asking about Kfir.

As if hearing her thoughts, Xurao replied, "The lieutenant will be with you shortly. He took a nasty fall when the mortar round went off, re-injuring his arm. I've ordered him to remain with you for the time being. He's finally accepted having some decent medical attention given his arm."

When it sank in that the colonel was going to send Alba to PrasiaOdous, she began to fuss. The colonel hushed her. "Now, now, Major. You do want Lieutenant Kfir to be fixed up right, don't you? Well, he won't leave you to get the needed help. He's put it off long enough. If you will agree to go, he will be willing to accompany you."

There was little Alba could do. The colonel was trying to be as gentle as possible in telling her that she was seriously injured and needed to be at the base hospital. She would have done the same had it been one of her lieutenants. Forcing back her despair, the major nodded.

"Good! Good!" Colonel Xurao smiled. "I'll personally see to your departure. Gooseberry is returning to base shortly. I'll make arrangements."

The colonel said his final goodbyes, exiting the medical room after watching Alba drift back off to sleep. It was the last time the two spoke. Three days later, Xurao's command car ran over a land mine, killing him and his driver.

Kfir later explained to Alba what occurred after she fainted in the snow. When Alba cried out, the winds immediately stopped, but the snow being so thick and high in the air, it took some time for it to drift back to the ground. By the time it had cleared enough for the enemy to see with their night vision scopes, the squad had safely distanced itself from them. The enemy rangers finally made their way to the abandoned VoshanShar only to be driven off by heavy guns taking aim on the ship, destroying it and any ranger foolish enough not to flee.

After the air battle died down, ground control ordered a mechanized armor advance with motorized infantry backup. Heavy missile attacks on the advancing enemy had broken up their battle-ready cohesiveness. When they found themselves engaged by heavy armor and renewed air attacks, the advance dissolved into a disorderly retreat.

When Kfir and Alba were leaving for the PrasiaOdous Medical Hospital, Winehardt's Division was already pushing the enemy through the Tendian Forest, while converging upon them at CrogGandal Pass.

There would follow six more days of intense fighting, often hand-to-hand in the shadowy forest, before Winehardt could report 'mission accomplished'. By then, the enemy had been driven back some thirty miles into the KourKenzy Forest at the foothills of the GraiLeaa Mountains. There the enemy dug in and entrenched.

Winehardt stopped the advance, eventually pulling her forces back to the Tendian Forest where they dug in and set up winter camp. The enemy had lost so much equipment along with stores and troopers, it could not afford another advance. Unknown to them, Winehardt's Division was in little better shape, having suffered thousands of battle casualties during combat.

Although there would be sporadic fighting among pickets and special forces - and yes, the mounted grenadiers would make their presence felt - the two armies would do little more than angrily stare at each other until the winter sun had given way to its spring sister.

Gooseberry lifted off before sunrise the following morning. Good to his promise, Kfir made the trip with Alba back to the base. In a few hours, surgeons would be working on her damaged eyes. How little she realized the importance of her inner vision, for it would be years before she would be able to look at the world through her beautiful, sky blue orbs.

Kfir held Alba's hand and sang to her one of his childhood songs. Alba so much loved to listen to his musical tales, his trying to force his tenor voice down into deep bass. The trip back to PrasiaOdous went quickly and she was disappointed when it was over. Tomorrow Alba would have to face the surgeon's knife, but today she could lose herself in Kfir's sweet refrains.

* * *

Cold mist lay heavy on the early morning darkness as a ghostly glimmer of morning sun quietly warred against the shrouded night, forcing its radiant armies over the ramparts of the hour's blackness. Treston stared down from the frost-covered hills, searching for a way to descend to the valley plain below.

Leaning in his saddle, he spoke in little more than a whisper to Sirion who was waiting on his direction, "When I was a young man, I believed I had a dream of Hell, feeling it to be a vision and an omen of future days." He hesitated, pretending to clear his throat. "I deserved no less, you know."

Sirion quietly asked the colonel to explain himself.

"Well, there is a disquieting similarity between that dream and this moment." Treston then recalled a poem he knew from his childhood.

" _Sweet is the breath on the dying air_

Of the slain on a field of blood.

The Kriggerman gathers the souls of his hunt

As the night fog rolls 'cross the plain.

' _I seek honest wages from the dead 'ere they lay,_

For they failed to pay me their tithes.

Their souls now must wander the barren northlands,

' _Til their payment to me they will give.'"_

"Please tell me what you're at, Colonel." Sirion requested, puzzling over Treston's statement. "There are no goblins in this world other than those we create in our own mind."

Treston countered, "Your words ring true, Major Sirion, but I speak not of goblins or the like. I smell the sweetness of death on the air. The frozen mist hides from us secrets that should make one wish for goblins instead. There is something in the darkness up ahead where we must pass. I can feel it. The Kriggerman has been busy."

Sirion reached out, resting her hand on Treston's leg, asking, "So is death upon us or do we follow its path?"

After shifting his weight to reposition his tired arms and checking on the unconscious Daisho, Treston answered, "Did you notice the distant flashes that visited themselves upon us from the last eve until well after midnight? Well, I now believe them to have been far different than I had supposed, not just a strange winter storm. There was war here last night, the heavy fog capturing its sounds. Like my dream from so long ago, there lies a valley of death ahead of us."

It was the second morning since leaving the raven-rook. Both Treston and Sirion were bone-weary from the constant travel. An ever-growing trepidation in their hearts had forced them forward, even through dangerous daylight hours. Taking only an occasional break, they were now less than four leagues from the Pass of Korteniaz.

Treston had dreamed of the pass, seeing it in his mind as he slept in the raven-rook. It took Sirion to explain its significance to him. "But once in my life have I seen the pass, it meaning little to me at the time. Gabrielle explained its value to me just the other day, the reason for it I do not know. The pass leads us into the bowels of the Jahouk Mountains. There is no other entrance that is open to men."

A chill ran up Sirion's back. "The Gate of EpipHaneia is located at the far end of the pass. It is said that anyone entering there will be forever changed. And should the gate be closed to those reaching it, a cloud of madness will overtake them." Sirion's voice filled with unease. "Gabrielle said that the Cherubs guard the gate and will only allow the Seraphim entrance. All others attempting to enter will fall into darkness until they are separated from their minds."

Treston was curious. "What is a Seraphim?"

"Seraphim are a group of people..." Sirion explained that an individual person was a Seraph. "They were chosen from among the Ancients, my brothers and sisters born during the First Age. It was also said to me that all the children from the Realms Below are delivered here as Seraphim." She sighed mournfully, "but Daisho and I are not of the First Age. Indeed, we are among the last born, the sergeant being little older than I."

"So what should I do?" Treston asked, frustrated. "I have come north to this place because Ysuah, a Cherub, directed me and you encouraged me. Now if I go on the two of you may die? Tell me, oh daughter of Dread, what am I to do?"

Sirion squeezed Treston's leg, sighing, "There is no choice but to go on. Gabrielle said that my journey was only beginning and that I gave her hope. She would never mislead me, nor do I believe a Cherub would lead an innocent person into danger and destruction unless it was most necessary. My fear is not reasonable, at least that is what my mind tells me."

She grabbed hold of the reins, urging her horse forward. "Come, the Valley of Death awaits us. Gloom is for now our friend. May it protect us from any evil that lurks down below."

The bitter, cold mist only thickened as they worked their way down toward the valley floor. As the power of day gradually grew, it did little more than diffuse the scant light it offered, revealing a haunted land shrouded in ghostly gray.

Treston shuddered from the cold. Or was it his growing feeling of unease? He, a soldier for most of his life, had traveled throughout the empire of his youth, yet his memory did not afford him a comparison to this place and time. It was a shadow world so thick with freezing fog that one could not tell up from down.

"Vertigo..." Sirion whispered. "Only in my flying experiences have I faced such an oppressive foe."

Treston nodded, afraid to reply. Sirion's voice had carried upon the air like the echo of distant thunder. Even Treston's rhythmic breathing riotously disturbed the quiet surroundings. Worst of all was the crashing noise of the horses as they stepped along, crunching through thick ice covering the bitter snow. The colonel's ears pained from each concussive report.

Leaning over to whisper in Sirion's ear, Treston finally responded, "If I was in my world of old, I'd flee from the ice demons that must dwell here." He shook his head. "But I'm a big boy now and know such creatures don't exist. Still, there are ice demons of other sorts...men with fleshly bodies who have no souls. If they wait in here for us, there is little hope of escape."

Sirion smiled, offering reassurance. "SastelloPhantasma has led us throughout our journey, even hiding our souls from the searching eyes of the birds above. Please, offer your reins to him again and allow him to lead us. He will not bring us into the camp of the ice demons."

Nodding in agreement, Treston let go the reins and spurred SastelloPhantasma forward into the thickening fog.

It was about midday when Treston pulled his horse to a halt. Visibility was down to thirty feet, making objects appear quite suddenly. It had taken the colonel some time to get used to scrub trees popping into view, their ice-covered branches drooping to the ground. But what now sat on the trail was not some squat scrub tree. Treston studied the shape for several minutes before deciding his next move.

What else was there but to continue on? Treston sighed and urged his mount forward. The hazy outline soon took on the hulking shape of a giant, steel monster machine, its cannon pointing dumbly toward the sky. Cautiously, the colonel and Sirion neared, slowly passing the tracked, armored truck.

Ice a half inch thick covered the machine in a glistening coat, while long icicles hung from its fenders and metal plates. Looking for clues as to what this war machine was doing here, so far away from any known battle, Treston spied an arm, charred and broken, protruding from a small portal in the truck's side.

Turning round to get Sirion's attention, Treston quietly commented, "I doubt this was an accident. The lack of snow under the ice..." He pointed at the machine's frozen surface. "This wreck is only hours old, not days or weeks."

Sirion concurred, then, catching sight of something out of the corner of her eye, motioned to her left. Turning, Treston saw two frozen corpses crumpled in the snow.

"Must be part of the crew..." he quietly replied. Riding close to the bodies and examining them, he added, "Puncture wounds...big ones. Looks like these fellows were run down and piked."

The fog was pressing them all the more. And the silence, the mind-numbing silence...it sucked their words away into nothingness, allowing no escape beyond one's breath. Treston surrendered to the trepidation growing in his heart. Whether this land was evil or good, he could not tell, but it was alive and watching them, that he did know. He gave the reins back to his horse.

For hour after grueling hour, the party continued north and east. At first, they occasioned upon a broken machine or a sprawled corpse. Later in the day the wreckage of war increased until they were rarely alone in the ever-present gloom. By late afternoon, Treston and Sirion found themselves surrounded by a sea of destruction.

Stopping to catch his breath, Treston dismounted and took a look around. He drew Sirion's attention to several nearby bodies. "I would guess that these men have been hacked to death with axes or broadswords of some kind. There has also been the random broken spear or splintered shield mingled with this madness. Who rides to war in this day and age with such weapons? Even Chasileah's battle charge was not as primitively equipped."

Sirion shook her head, not knowing. "There no longer exists any brigade of horse cavalry in the north, for whoever fought here rode horses. I know for a fact that General Chasileah pulled all mounted units including our honor guards from the line in order to form her Glitter Brigade. Those who survived the assault on Legion's lines have either returned to former duties or have remained stationed in the south of Memphis. And..." she examined the killing blows on the victims, "the day I departed Sophia, our new field marshal issued General Order 14 which recalls from active duty all units not equipped with modern weapons."

She slipped her gloves back on and turned to Treston. "No, my dear Colonel, these men have not perished at the hands of our soldiers. Whoever or whatever did this was acting independently of our forces. Maybe there really are ice-demons."

Treston stared into the fog while patting the neck of his horse. He looked up at Daisho slumped forward in the saddle, Treston's belt securing her to it. His breath froze on the air as he spoke. "'Ice-demons or not, friend or foe – whichever - we are not alone in this land of death. There are eyes all around, watching our every move."

Smiling, Sirion replied, "I believe you've fallen back into your old thinking, Colonel. You know, conjuring up those ghosts and goblins from your past. The fog is heavy and it does press us..."

Treston cut Sirion off with a curt rebuff. "I care not for your spirits and ghosts, for your world has many more than mine! I am a soldier, trained by instinct to know when my feelings speak truth. There are creatures of some kind shadowing us...man or beast, I do not know...maybe both. They remain hidden just beyond our curtain of sight. They step when we step and breathe when we breathe. They're there all right. They are out there."

He mounted his horse, pulling Daisho close. "We have a journey to finish and our hosts become impatient. How far we have traveled, I dare not guess, but I feel our journey shall end afore this night does fall." He peered into the darkening gloom. "One way or another, our journey shall end."

* * *

"My Lord, there is no need for this slaughter to continue any longer. Already we have suffered a quarter of a million casualties and for what?!" Anna was becoming desperate. "And for what?! You still have no proof that our brother was behind the attack on Exothepobole! Our losses are mounting every day. We have surrendered up star systems while others lay under siege, and MueoPoros is still not secured. This has all been a mistake! A huge mistake!"

Anna caught up with Mihai at KesStonsis, Desiah's largest moon, having used her charms to convince - others said 'threatened and cajoled' the captain of RananAhot to follow GrizBokk. Although Mihai had not dressed Anna down for such inappropriate behavior, she was clearly disturbed by the woman's actions. Even at this impromptu meeting held aboard Clovis IV, an imperial dry dock and way station, the king of the Children's Empire waited impatiently upon her counselor.

Mihai put down two newly decoded communiques, one telling her of Symeon's decision to remain on Pilneser, and the other from James, bringing her up to date concerning the welfare of Nazareth. She folded her hands and asked Anna, "So tell me, why you have sought me out, risking your and possibly my capture, to tell me what was so long ago decided upon?"

Anna fumed, frustrated, "My Lord, have you not listened to a word I have proffered?! This war is destroying our universe. What we have worked so long to build is being turned to rubble. Our homes, the antiquities of art and loving design, our beautiful cities, everything that separates us from those creatures of hopeless dreams will soon become like the _ape-world_ from which they were lifted."

She leaned forward, spewing, "This war need not have been fought, needs not to be! We were given a way out. Our brother offered to negotiate through diplomacy, even making concessions in our behalf. War was chosen, and for what?! A miserable little outpost on a frozen rock, and a few lost souls? But no! We have gone to war, being led by these _monkey-children_ from a lost time. They know not our ways, have no respect for our culture, and flippantly pass off our counsel as weak and unimportant.

"My Lord, you must take back the moment before today's warlords remove from you the very throne upon which you sit!" She eyed Paul, who was quietly sitting next to Mihai. "The enemy will press us to the end, and there we shall fall. And for what good reason other than we refused to think out a successful battle strategy before committing our weaker forces? We must act while there is still time and seek peace with our brother. If we wait, all will be lost!"

Mihai stopped Anna, being polite but abrupt. "A wise counselor you have proved yourself and what you say may need further addressing." She looked into Paul's eyes and back at Anna. "But first we shall bury our dead. Trust me, if your brother is willing to make peace today, then he will also do so tomorrow. When RananAhot is fueled and supplied, you are to proceed to Palace City and prepare a welcoming committee." She would not say for what reason.

The counselors were dismissed, Mihai refusing any further discussion. Paul said he would be right along but had some business to conclude. He tenderly kissed Mihai, whispering something in her ear. Anna silently seethed, smoldering hatred burning in her eyes, 'That little wart must be taken care of and soon.' It came as a surprise then, to say the least, when Paul asked to have a word in private with her.

After the others had exited the room, Paul casually picked up the communiques from the table and approached Anna. Looking down at the papers and then up at her, he mildly commented, "These came from my king's _monkey-children_. Symeon has joined our forces attempting to hold Pilneser. You know Symeon, don't you?"

Before Anna could reply, Paul continued, "The other is concerning a woman calling herself 'Nazareth'. You don't know her, do you?" He waited, but Anna said nothing.

"Didn't think so... Well, I know her and so does our king. Woman's first name was...may still be 'Mary'. Does it ring a bell in some distant memory? Well, it says in this report here that Nazareth...she's a commodore, you know...well, Nazareth and a ragtag armada knocked the shit out of your brother's great fleet! It says here that she 'became one' with her ship, sorta like a marriage or something. Says the machine came alive. Can you believe that?"

Anna spat as her temper flared, "You shit-worm!" As she lifted her arm to strike Paul, he caught her blow with one hand while his other shot out and clenched her chin in an iron grip. Anna blinked, dumbfounded.

Paul now pulled her face close to his, hissing, "You didn't let me finish. You've heard of the Cherubs, haven't you? Well I hear that they've returned to rebuild this universe, and have already given the _monkey-children_ powers greater than those from your age. Bet you didn't know that, either."

As he continued, Paul slowly tilted his head from side to side, his face nearly touching Anna's. "I suggest you inform your brother as soon as may be. This is hot news and you're the best one to let him know. I'm sure you have a good, opened link to his communication's system, don't you?"

Anna tried shaking her head 'no', fear of the stranger confronting her growing by the second. Paul squeezed Anna's face until her jaw slipped out of joint. Tears welled in Anna's eyes. "You lie!" he whispered.

Anna shook her head again. At that, Paul grinned ever so sinisterly, "You look like a good lay. The _monkey-children_ of my day could teach you how to be a very good lay. Shall I call to my king to let me have a mind share with you? She'd allow me that... You'd have no say. I could find out your secrets...just like you have stolen Mihai's, except I'd...I'd not be so gentle on mind or body."

Paul swept his hand in, clutching the back of Anna's head as he squinted and grimaced. A sudden explosion of energy erupted within the woman's mind that she had no power to control or stop, Paul's voice tearing through her brain. "I need not the travesty of a mind share to find hidden treasures! And I wish not to pollute my soul by having intercourse with your flesh. Do you now see the power of the Seraphim, or do you desire a grander presentation?"

With that, Paul let go the back of Anna's head, shoving her away. She cried out in pain, almost collapsing to the floor. Extending an arm and shaking a finger, Paul threatened, "Should you ever come near my woman... my king, I'll bleed you as one does a pig at slaughter! Your temple will be an empty house, home to the living dead!"

Terrorized, Anna fled, staggering from the council chamber. After arriving at RananAhot, the woman hid in her cabin. When Mihai saw her again, it was at the council held before the welcoming celebration.

* * *

The ever-present gray of afternoon was rapidly fading into evening darkness by the time Treston and Sirion reached the Gate of EpipHaneia. At least Treston believed it must the very gate Sirion had earlier mentioned. Two black metal, leaved doors hinged at their outer ends stood closed before them.

Treston let out a quiet "Phew!" as he stared up eighty long-cubits to the top of the gate. It was another one hundred forty long-cubits to the ramparts of the giant obsidian walls that jutted out above these three intruders. The pass itself was now little more than a narrow canyon, with walls ascending well over a thousand feet from the valley floor. These things Treston could not see with his eyes, but somehow in his mind he knew it.

There were other things he observed in his heart that Sirion was not yet aware of, shapes moving ever closer, slowly, ever so slowly. Treston leaned over, whispering to the woman, "Well, we are here. For good or ill, we have arrived. And, for good or ill, we are not alone." Before Sirion could reply, Treston spurred his horse into turning around, while at the same instant, drawing Ysuah and raising it high.

A voice called out from within the fog, "TrestonOikosPhulaxHegemon, return you weapon to its sheath, for the sword of VanGoddawin will not defend you in this place!"

Glancing at his weapon, Treston noticed no flame burning within the dull gray steel blade. In wonder, he lowered it while shouting into the rolling mist, "Who are you, a Cherub returned to this world? Speak now, for we are not enemies of the Children's Empire, but sojourners delivered here by the Fates!"

Silence! Not as much as a breath could Treston or Sirion hear. Fearing treachery, the colonel placed himself between Sirion and the shapeless voice, telling her to draw near the gate. Sheathing his sword, he pulled Contorie off his shoulder. It was cold to his touch, its bolt unwilling to budge open.

Treston shouted again, "Why do you hide from us? If we are your enemy, then the prize is yours, and if we are a friend, why conceal your face?"

Like some spirit rising from the grave, a hooded rider on a speckled gray horse drifted noiselessly from the mist. Cloaked in attire the color of the surrounding fog, it was difficult for Treston to know for sure whether he was seeing a person or a snowy apparition.

Stopping just at the edge of vision, the rider called out again, "It has been by the blood of my brothers that you have safely fulfilled your journey. Cast your eyes to the ground and see if what I tell you is really so."

Treston studied his surroundings, but it was Sirion who spoke first, excitedly answering, "Many beasts have come this way and red is the field of lily-white snow. Tell me, please, are there many injured among you?"

Surprised, Treston stared at Sirion. "What is this about?"

Sirion urged her horse forward until she was beside Treston. "These are not our enemies." She then addressed the rider on the speckled horse. "EremiaPikros, does your bed still smell of clover and honey, or has my love grown cold between your satin sheets?"

The rider chuckled, "Many a lonely night have I comforted my pillow with the scent of your silken tresses sprayed with the myrrh of the shokkenberry. I waited to see if your heart remembered the sunrise over the Ambrosian Sea."

Sirion blushed watching Treston eyeing her as she bashfully replied, "How can a maiden of tender years forget a man who could excite her senses for a night and a day? It is I who am in awe of an Ancient fondly remembering the love from an awkward woman-child not yet out of her teens."

The rider pulled his hood back, grinning, "Oh, I remember quite well...quite well."

"Who?! What?!" Treston cried, bewildered.

Sirion grasped his hand, smiling, "EremiaPikros was, uh, is one of the elder sons of our mother. He comforted me during the dark years after the Rebellion began, bringing me to Memphis until my tears of anguish subsided. He was steward of The Cherub's Eye, the citadel of Memphis."

She turned her attention to the rider. "All these many years we have thought you dead! No word... no word has come to our ears concerning your welfare, other say than some of the Keepers of the Gate had escaped to this foreboding land."

EremiaPikros bowed, peering into her face, commenting, "My Lady, you have grown. Even more beautiful in form and tongue are you than our last night on that summer eve long ago but I see that war has not let you go unscathed. Of these adventures, you must tell me. Also, your words concerning this place, 'foreboding land', do not reflect the reality of what one finds here as you will soon discover."

Sirion tilted her head and queried, "My Lord, how can a child unclean like myself dare enter here and live? For only the Keepers of the Gate may pass through this land and live."

Before answering, EremiaPikros urged his mount forward, stopping at arm's length from Sirion and Treston, touching Sirion's knee. "Do not fear what you do not know when you ride in company with the lord over the Keepers of the Gate."

Before she could make reply, Eremia bowed again, but this time toward Treston. "My Lord, long have we waited for this day. Your army stands at the ready beyond these walls."

Treston was shocked speechless. Before he could recover, Eremia spoke again, motioning to others hidden in the fog. "Now for the child, Therapon. I see our trust in you was not in vain."

By this time, several riders had materialized from the darkening gloom. Two came forward, reaching for Daisho. One of the riders, Clarion, spoke over her shoulder, "The child still lives, my Lord. The gods have chosen wisely upon this man."

Treston's grip on Daisho increased. Bewildered and anxious, he cried out, "I have only done what any other man should have! The woman lives not by my hand, for I have only drugged her senseless with strong drink and poison. And why do you call me 'Therapon'?"

Eremia laughed, "A healer rarely understands his own power and often fails to recognize his handiwork. Now give the girl to my agents so that we can be on about other business." He added reassuringly, "She will be quite safe in their caring hands. Clarion's healing powers are nearly as great as yours."

Treston hesitated.

Rising in his saddle, Eremia sternly encouraged Treston to follow his direction. "My Lord, give the child to my people, your servants. Allow the prophecy to become fulfilled. Your part in it is now finished."

Releasing the still unconscious Daisho to eager hands, the much-bewildered Treston quizzed, "Of what prophecy do you speak? I have not been informed of any such pronouncement."

"You have, but would not listen!" came a response from a helmed rider emerging from the fog. Dressed from head to toe in heavy, burnished armor and seated on a giant white warhorse, the rider approached the company. "Your ears hear, my son, but your mind dawdles, getting lost in words and meanings."

From days long ago, the words from a fellow soldier on a foreboding eve raced through Treston's brain. He exclaimed, "Old man?! Ysuah?!" He pondered the moment more. "Then your words were not concerning Ishtar? But I thought she was the maiden born that day."

It was Ysuah's turn to laugh. "My son, an autumn wind blows many ways and an ant is not a hermit living in a cave. My riddles have many meanings and shall be fulfilled as I see fit. Ishtar is indeed the maiden from the day that is so long ago to you. But Ysuah has delivered many maidens to this world and many sons."

Ysuah turned his attention to Daisho, placing a hand over her eyes. The woman let out a cry and then a choking gasp, her arms falling limp. Treston excitedly reached for her.

Ysuah caught his arm. "That is enough, my son. As your brother has already informed you, your part in this prophecy is over."

Smiling, Ysuah released Treston's arm. "I spoke to you once these words, 'A maiden born this very day shall fire your heart, your soul to save. And by your brutal strength of might, you'll bring her harm then do her right.' And so you have. My daughter has suffered at your hand. Although done in an attempt to save her, by your brutish strength you have hurt her in many ways you cannot see."

Waving his hand to silence Treston, Ysuah went on. "You have done the child right by the way you have been comforting her soul. Not only have you preserved her alive until this hour, you have renewed her trust in men, for there are many stories locked in the depths of a person's heart. My daughter, Daisho, is no different." He reached out and took Treston's hand. "You have done her right."

Treston was still doubtful concerning Daisho's welfare. Noticing, Ysuah added, "You have delivered my daughter to me, her soul still alive within her flesh. I have now lifted it up to gather it to the edge of the universe and beyond, for where she wanders soon, no mortal flesh may journey."

"Of what do you speak, my Father?" Treston asked, "For I sense that you are like a father to me..."

"I am a father to you!" Ysuah snorted with approval, adding, "What I speak of is a world that you have already journeyed through, but your flesh turned to ashes while you did so, leaving your mind without a temple until we built another one for you. My daughter's body will not die and see corruption, but shall rest until I return her spirit back from the Field of the Minds. She will have been as this other child there," he pointed at Sirion, "forever changed by her journey."

Putting a hand to her heart, Sirion cried, "Me?! How?!" She then leaned forward in her saddle. "And who are you to tell me such things?"

Ysuah sat back, surprised.

Treston quickly answered, "Have you been sleeping? This is the Cherub of whom you asked me the other night, the one I believe who spoke from the thunders in your dream."

Grinning, Ysuah added, "The man is of greater wit than Phulakee's own daughter! Wait until I tell him. He may well wish to have chosen more wisely."

"Choose for yourself, old man!" Another rider emerged from the fog. "The girl has spunk, which makes up for some of her dimwittedness." He also grinned. "And she's one hell of a fighter just like her sire."

Sirion remained confused, indeed, becoming more so. She began babbling amusing nonsense concerning the Cherubs and other riders, appearing to only be making a connection with Eremia. Her increasing ramblings concerned Treston, so he asked if what the woman had told him of those who are not of the Seraphim being forever changed by standing in this place was now taking her mind.

Phulakee chided Ysuah, "I guess that wit is lost in these lands. Or could your son have hurt his head or something?"

Ysuah huffed, "My son has had too much company with your child is my guess! I'm wondering if he'll survive the coming ordeal they must pass through together."

The two went on at each other until, fully confused and tired of their playful jousting, Treston boldly put a stop to it. "All right! All right! Wit is as wit does. And I feel that Sirion and I are not the only ones lacking it. Now, what are we about? And must we stay here? I'm freezing and I have more questions than answers and I'm not immortal, so I'm tired and hungry. So can we get on with it?"

Instead of becoming angry over Treston's outburst, the two Cherubs grinned. Phulakee nudged Ysuah, "Come to think of it, he not only acts like you, he looks a lot like you, too!"

Eremia brought the merriment to an end, directing attention back to the moment. "My Lords, you have entertained us well this day, and I believe you have been quite successful in putting our guests at ease. Now, if you will, I have many wounded who need tending as soon as may be. We pressed the battle for the sake of expediency, and for that suffered greatly. We have no medical appointments here other than healers. If you will offer assistance, many who will otherwise die may well recover."

Ysuah smiled and nodded, "I agree. My son appears to have come to see us in the light of being fellow children of our Mother. For our success in the coming hour, it is necessary that he view us as his brothers and no more. Now, on to other business..." He reached forward and touched Treston's forehead.

Treston reeled for but a moment and groaned.

"There!" Ysuah grinned, satisfied. "The power of healing has been fully waked within you. Lead the way before us, for you are king over this crowd. We shall assist you in bringing a cure to your servants."

A loud _'crack!'_ echoed down the valley as the gate's two massive wings began to swing open wide in welcome, driving away the fog with a shimmering golden light.

* * *

Captain Asarel peered through the upper deck portals as his cruiser, DusmeAstron, swung under the newly commissioned dry dock carrier, AnnBoleyn, watching intently as its giant belly doors closed upon a most precious cargo. Turning to his first officer, he grinned, "Captain Joleck, the prize contained within that ship's belly is worth three battle fleets, maybe more! That's why the Navy has gathered such a huge escort here to bring our child home."

Captain Joleck agreed with Asarel's assessment of the matter. "Shikkeron is truly a prize worth protecting. I am so pleased to see that Lord Ardon is alive and well. This war has already taken far too many of our leaders. It does my heart good to have seen one as if returned from the Silent Tombs standing again in our stead." She smiled, noting, "He seems to have taken well to the rigors of military life."

Captain Asarel pondered Joleck's comment while gazing through the portal as one of AnnBoleyn's escorts, the imperial barquentine Divulsion, tucked itself under and astern the carrier. While he watched other escorts queue up to the ship he could not help but think of his earlier conversation with Ardon concerning the great space rivers like the BaalRohab that flowed into the Nebulan Cloud Bank or 'Nebulan Sea' as Ardon called it.

'Gateways to the universe!' Asarel thought, pondering the potential advantage a navy utilizing them would have over its enemy. He imagined the swift, safe transport of needed supplies, soldiers, and warships to the most distant parts of the empire. And then there were the sneak attacks on enemy convoys from Sarah's WolfPack Marauders as they lie in wait behind the rivers' protective membranes.

The captain then frowned, thinking of the dangers the Navy would face once the enemy learned about these same rivers. He envisioned huge armadas slugging it out in the blindness of the Nebulan Sea where gravitational guidance systems and line of sight were the only ways to navigate.

"TuphlosAbussos!" He shuddered when he spoke those words aloud.

"Sir?" Captain Joleck asked, puzzled.

Asarel shook his head. "Nothing, Captain...nothing. Something you said got me thinking of the Battle of the Blind Abyss, TuphlosAbussos, a small naval engagement I was in during the Two Hundred Years War. Better I leave it in the past."

Finally, he addressed Captain Joleck's earlier comment. "The prize I was referring to is not Shikkeron, Captain, and it's not our Lord Ardon, either. What I believe is the greatest treasure of all now walks in shadows, her eyes hidden behind walls of blackened glass."

Joleck stared at Asarel, perplexed.

Asarel smiled, "This war started because Queen AdayaDarla was sent to the Trizentine by the hand of Fate, and her returning from that hell has been no less an accident, may I add. Something in the woman died that day at the prisoner exchange. I remember her before it as she journeyed with us. And..." he pointed in the direction of the Trizentine, "in some way the child was reborn out there, in that trackless wilderness."

Clasping his hands behind his back, Asarel continued, "Yes, Captain Joleck, it has been told me the most powerful people in this universe seek Adaya's soul, and for good reason. I believe the many words uttered about her are prophecies yet to be revealed. If that is the case, the gods have risen to seek their revenge!"

"I'm sorry, Captain Asarel, but I know little about the creature you call 'Queen AdayaDarla', this colonel of the Marines aboard Shikkeron. I also walked these decks with you on our sojourn to the prisoner exchange, yet the things you say about her are not familiar to my ears." Captain Joleck paused to wait an answer.

A broad grin broke across Asarel's face. "It is said that wisdom is a thing learned. You forget so quickly the prisoner exchange. For you, the actions of our new field marshal eclipsed all other matters that day, but other things happened there that have greater, far-reaching effects. Lord Euroaquilo confided many secrets to me before he and that girl departed the planet EremiaPikros, secrets that I think are not so secret now."

Joleck frowned, asking, "How can you be so sure about these matters if most is hearsay?"

Still grinning, Asarel answered, "My dear Captain, I think you have an excellent point. Why don't you seek answers from the person's mouth? I have been invited to dine with Captain Bedan, Lord... I think he prefers to be called 'Major Ardon', and also the colonel you're curious about. Would you like to accompany me to AnnBoleyn this evening to sup with our guest?"

* * *

Jonathan dropped his cup of tea, surprised at seeing Chasileah stand from her chair as he entered the room, diving forward to catch her when she began to totter. After he clasped her in a firm grip, he scolded, "Why do you do this foolishness?! The doctors have warned you of the dangers of such tricks, saying your bones need more healing."

Chasileah scowled, fussing, "I cannot rest any longer in that chair! It makes my ass numb! Besides, I wanted to try out my new nerve implants."

Jonathan frowned, "You're supposed to practice in the pool where the water will relieve the stress on your bones!"

"I will do that later." Chasileah softly protested. "For now I wanted to exercise my other powers."

"You will! You will!" Jonathan reassured her. "But you must heal first! There..."

Chasileah hushed him. "Foolish old fuddy-duddy!" She pushed his nose with a finger. "You don't even know your own abilities, do you? The Cherubs have given you the power to heal the sick and crippled...power the likes of which I've not seen even the greatest of the Ancients possess."

Jonathan started his fussing anew about Chasileah's need to be careful and heal before she tried anything strenuous.

Chasileah squinted and asked suspiciously, "Are you really so concerned about my well being, or have you become so enraptured with Lieutenant Kittee that you're trying to put me in the sickbed? After all, the longer I'm an invalid, the more time you'll have with her."

Jonathan's face flushed beet red as he fumbled to make reply, attempting to speak up in his own defense. Chasileah loved to see him in such a predicament, and she contrived opportunities to make it happen.

With the tongue of a jealous lover, jilted by her beau for selfish reasons, Chasileah feigned dejection. "No! No! There is no need to attempt consolation. After all, the sweet lieutenant is exquisite in form and grace, and her full breasts overshadow the likes of mine, especially since I have been convalescing. My body no longer radiates its once proud beauty, being crippled and disfigured as it is. There is good reason that you wish to put me off."

Before Jonathan burst a blood vessel, Chasileah poked him in the ribs, chiding him for his silliness. She then embraced him, saying how good it felt to be standing in his arms again. A warm feeling raced up Jonathan's back and his heart ached with joy at this woman's touch. He couldn't help but ponder the concept of love and relationships.

As the two held each other, Chasileah resting her head on Jonathan's neck, Jonathan thought of Lieutenant Kittee. The woman was breathtaking in her beauty, and charming in personality. She was selfless in her duties, caring for Chasileah's and Jonathan's needs... and she was a wonderful lover. Jonathan found his heart being drawn to her, but in a much different way than with Chasileah.

'How strange,' he thought. 'I love Chesse in ways I cannot explain. I ache when I'm not beside her. But I have come to love Kittee, too, for she is a woman deserving of love, but that love is so different...wonderful, but different.'

"Do be careful of your thoughts. For good or bad, they will betray you when they are shouted from mountains." Chasileah looked up into Jonathan's very much surprised face. "Oh yes, my dear one, you have blabbed many things to your sweet lieutenant as she has shared her hours with us in this cabin. Why do your think she has drawn so close to you? And don't think it is your love making. There is much you must learn concerning that matter."

Taking Jonathan's hand and stroking it tenderly, Chasileah addressed the issue. "Seriously, my love, you should return to your tutoring soon. You must learn how to control your thoughts. Tomorrow we shall pick up where we left off." She warned, "If you don't learn which part of your mind is private to yourself and which calls out to others, you may well endanger us all. You know too many things... secrets not yet to be revealed. Should the enemy find them out... well, I just don't know what may happen."

Chasileah changed the subject. "Back to other business... Now release me!"

Surprised, Jonathan refused, saying he would not until she returned to her chair.

Shaking her head, Chasileah gently pushed against Jonathan. "Now listen! I know what I'm doing. You don't understand. Trust me and watch...and learn."

Grudgingly, Jonathan let go his grasp of Chasileah. The woman stood there, uncertain at first, then she took a step, and then another. Warning her companion away, she made slow, unsteady progress across the room, then turned and retraced her steps, and turned again.

"Wow!" Chasileah was ecstatic. "I can feel my legs again! I can feel my feet touching the floor! I can feel!"

"Good! Good!" Jonathan's concern was still quite evident. "Now you can sit and I'll take you to the pool."

Chasileah motioned him away, fussing, "Be off with you! I am not doing what you think I am. I told you I wanted to exercise my other powers."

"What are you about?!" Jonathan was becoming exasperated.

"No! It's 'what are you about?!'" Chasileah retorted. "Have you not seen what is happening to the children of the gods, the Seraphim? Our union and covenant that night in the forest has given a release to us...those children. The Cherubs have looked approvingly upon that union and have untied the bonds that have so long kept our powers in check.

"'To each is his gift given and to each will that gift flourish pregnant with power. When the sword that burns eternal is brandished by a stranger divine, then all this shall come to pass'." Chasileah lowered her head. "Many ages ago, Coresian, my father, spoke those words to me as we stood upon Mt. PuozomeoTonTee, overlooking the lava fields of Lagandow."

Looking back into Jonathan's eyes, Chasileah confided, "You are that stranger divine."

"What?!" Questions were flooding Jonathan's mind.

Chasileah stopped him. "My dear one, have you not yet come to understand the act of lovemaking? It is not...was not designed to merely excite the senses of the body, to only titillate passion. It was corrupted by Asotos and his lackeys to be used for nothing more than to unleash passion, often violently, but that was never its intended purpose."

She drew Jonathan close, taking his hands. "At one time it was the only form of what you call 'worship' found in our universe. When a couple came together in lovemaking, they would sing out to our mother with their minds, inviting her to share with them their joy. 'EshtoutaEtTou' was the name our fathers, the Cherubs, gave to our lovemaking. The words, when translated, mean, 'gather all hearts to the Maker of Souls'.

"Coresian explained to me just how vital what we call 'heartfelt emotions' are to the very fabric of the universe. He told me that it is actually the release of such selfless passion that strengthens the bonds, the web of the universe."

Chasileah shook her head, adding sadly, "Asotos' violent attitude regarding lovemaking and its cancerous spread among his followers, including your unwitting fellow humans, is what threatens the fabric of the universe. Each callous, violent act, including what you call 'prostitution', tears at that very fabric. If it is not checked soon, our entire universe may dissolve into nothing."

Sighing, tired, Chasileah spoke of her need to sit. After becoming comfortable, she continued, "Every violent act wars against the fabric of the universe. At least that is my understanding. When Mother made that fabric, she could not comprehend anyone even threatening violence. By the time our fathers warned her of the danger, even had she been able to believe and accept that such a thing could possibly happen, it was too late to change matters. By law - the law she, herself, had written upon the hearts of all living things, our mother could not change the makeup of the universe without bringing into question the motives of her children."

A gloomy frown swept over the woman's face, followed by dejected sadness. "We, the Seraphim, were not created to bring a rebellion to its finish. No, we had been trained to observe the nature of violence while it still remained hidden deep within a person's heart. We were taught how to prevent such rebellion from being born.

"But alas! The joys of carefree living and our indulgence into the limitless pleasures of life that our world afforded us lulled my kind into a deathlike sleep. We refused to wake when warning signs appeared." She raised her hand, shaking a finger. "And trust me when I say this. Those warning signs were there not long after the Second Age began."

Chasileah cast her eyes to the floor as tears fell to her lap. "My kind failed to keep up the watch. Oh, Mother has never criticized us – not even once. She has harbored all the responsibility for this age of war and violence, even blaming herself for her wanton unwillingness to see the inevitable, something the Cherubs had warned her about. But it was not her fault. We...the children of Lagandow are the culpable agents of death, the demons bringing ruin. We saw the future with our own eyes. We knew of this violent age should we fall asleep."

Jonathan began to console Chasileah but she stopped him. "Do not speak kind words to me! Death is what I deserve. Indeed, death has been the companion I have long searched for. But it flees my embrace, leaving me torn and broken."

She paused to collect her thoughts. "My kind were given great powers to be waked in the hour appropriate. Yet, when that hour came, not one of my kind was fit to take hold of the eternally burning sword. Even PalaHar, one of the greatest of the Seraphim, was not permitted to take hold of it. Our fathers would not release our powers to us, telling us the gifts were not ours to possess, unless... unless the lowliest of beings offered it to us.

"Most of my kind were not deterred, but accepted a mortal's role in bringing this Rebellion to a finish. What powers we did possess – for all the Seraphim are...were Ancients – we used in advancing this holy war. When it began, there were well over a hundred thousand of us, and we led the others to the fields of combat. Now I know of only of several hundred, many of whom are harbored within these confines, convalescing."

Jonathan spoke up, this time not to be interrupted. "I perceive a malignant ulcer of pity choking your heart. You do not see all things, but wish for the joy of ignorance through death instead of the pain of education. Do you really believe yourself greater than God...your mother?! If what you say is truth...and I believe you are truthful...then even she could not see the future.

"You have looked at matters as if the mind is the only tool one uses to think and reason with. The heart is treacherous and tricks us all. Your mother had those words recorded for our benefit because she saw how her own heart had tricked her. For as long as the heart exists...and I believe it shall be forever...it will attempt to deceive us. Stop pitying yourself. Use your hard won education to become wise so that you and your kind will never fall asleep again.

"If you must have pity, pity the dead, for they must yet come to learn what you have already come to know through your bitter experiences. Take your knowledge, as PalaHar did, and teach others your wisdom so that they may not have to suffer as you have. This is how you gain absolution."

Jonathan's head whirled with dizziness. He put his hand to his forehead, but for a moment, because the dizziness quickly passed.

"What is it?!" Chasileah asked, concerned.

Turning toward the door, Jonathan stopped, absorbed in racing thoughts. Eventually he turned back to Chasileah. "My dearest love, for I love you more than all others, please consider my words."

He lifted his hand, gesturing as he spoke. "Your hour of secrecy has come to pass. The Seraphim should no longer reside in shadows, hiding from mortal men. A new god rises above the battle plain, one that will lead Lowenah's children to victory. Take your place beside the steward of the burning sword. See, I am but the steward of the sword belonging to the one yet to arrive, the one you call 'Shiloh'."

Walking forward, Jonathan reached out and took Chasileah's hand. "I can see the powers of which you have been speaking. The gift of levitation is strong within you. Soon you shall need no conveyance other than one for protection to sweep you across the universe. And yet you are not alone in this ability, nor are your kind but a few hundred."

Standing upright and lifting his head up as if sniffing the breeze, Jonathan added, "I see a great host descending from a mountain, led by a beast, fierce in countenance and filled with anger renewed. He calls out to his enemies, 'Beware! Beware, for the wrath of the four winds is about to be unleashed!' He rides upon a midnight hour, seeking the destruction of anyone who stands his path."

Jonathan grinned at an astonished Chasileah. "The Cherubs have returned and have already chosen the Lord of MueoPoros, the Steward of Lagandow."

Chasileah gasped. "Have you also become a prophet to my people?!"

Jonathan shook his head. "No. It is not yet the hour for the children of the Second Realm to rise up above their brothers. This is your war to fight. We will assist you in ways that have already been established."

"Then what do your words mean for me?" Chasileah asked, bewildered.

Bending low, Jonathan again took Chasileah's hand. "Because you offered your soul into my hand in order to have power returned to you and your kind, your father has decided that you must remain subject to the man you offered your soul to. A slave in the house of a lowly man from the Realms Below is your lot until Shiloh comes to free all men.

"Like Aaron, who became a mouthpiece for his younger brother, thus becoming his slave in speech, you and your kind have become the voice of the younger children from the Lower Realms. What we whisper you shall shout from the mountains. And all that we speak will become as if law for your kind to follow."

A look of fear grew upon Chasileah's face. Nervous, she asked, "Is my father angry with his daughter because she failed him in so many ways?"

Jonathan smiled, shaking his head. "No, your father deeply cares for you. But your father is not a man ruled by an emotion-filled heart. You offered your soul to gain for yourself the power once promised...a free gift you attempted to gain by barter. For that, your father accepted your request, but it comes at a price. The glory for the victory is no longer yours to revel in. It must now go to the children who are not of your kind.

"The lowly ones, many lifted from the Realms Below, shall be the first gifted with the garment of immortality. They will lead the battle charge to shake the Heavens and bring your brother to nothing. Then, as children born anew, your kind, the Old Order of the Seraphim, shall join with the New Order of the Seraphim, becoming as if a bride to them."

Though spoken tenderly and with care, Jonathan's words were disquieting to Chasileah. She bemoaned her impetuous foolishness. "The chatterers of your world show more wisdom than I. Oh, if only my soul had perished under the walls of Mordeniah the Castle, when GarsShion, my companion was felled in flame! Then I would have remained silent and wise."

"Silly woman!" Jonathan poked Chasileah on the arm. "The chatterers of my world were too stupid to shut up. You're not stupid...never were. And your father holds no grudge against his favorite daughter. In his way, he loves you dearly and, unbeknownst to you, has preserved you alive down to this day for a very special reason. Indeed, his voice to you given me in my mind, says, 'should a spear find her heart, or a sword cleave her asunder, her breath will not flee her soul, nor will corruption ravage her flesh. My daughter is a vessel chosen for the day of despair. In that hour she will not falter.'"

"What does it all mean?" Chasileah wondered aloud.

Squeezing her hand, Jonathan answered, "I am not a prophet for your kind... never will be. Your father has chosen not to tell me what his words mean or when they are to be accomplished. What he has pointed out is that even you, one of the great Seraphim, lacked the faith necessary to trust to the wisdom of the Cherubs. Because of that, like happened to a leader from my old realm, the beautifying thing offered to your kind must pass on to the lowliest of living creatures. Into the hands of a woman-child from the Realms Below will the glory of freeing Castle Memphis be given."

Jonathan leaned forward, putting a finger to his lips. "Shhh...speak to no one the things I now reveal, for these are your father's words for a consoling of his daughter's heart and for no others.

"My dear love, Coresian, your father, has added this: 'And the king will cast his shadow over you, and you must become pregnant with a son, and you will call him 'LagandowGaal' meaning 'Lagandow delivered', for in the day of your giving birth, the Cherubs will shout in jubilation over the rebirth of that sacred place.'"

With a wink, Jonathan then cautioned, "Can the daughter of Coresian be patient enough this time to wait upon her father?"

Need it be added that Chasileah was reduced to uncontrolled tears of joy when the meaning of Jonathan's words finally sank in? For so many years she had carried the guilt of failed insight, blaming herself for the rise of rebellion. From that hour forward she began to gain in understanding, gradually learning that no one was really to blame for the darkness that had spread across the universe other than the perpetrators of that darkness, Asotos and his co-conspirators.

It was not long after this that Lieutenant KittleBaclin stepped into the doorway. "Major Jonathan, General Chasileah, there is someone just delivered here who would like to meet with you."

Jonathan turned, smiled, and stepped up to Kittee, kissing her squarely on the lips then apologized, "Forgive a man, foolish and thick of skull. I am sorry my feelings for you have not been expressed openly to you. I didn't want you to think poorly of me and refused to accept your whispering songs. I will try to be more receptive in the future."

Kittee stared in wonderment, suddenly reaching out, grasping Jonathan in a bear hug of an embrace. Tears fell as she cried, "My Lord, I don't know why I have fallen in love with you! I chose not to, fearing your rejection. I attempted to be only a comforter and helper until all was well with the general. Thank you for being kind to me."

Kittee slowly released Jonathan and stepped back, embarrassed, attempting to pat her uniform smooth as she repeated her message. "I... er... well I... was..." She paused to collect her thoughts. "Sir, there has recently arrived here a certain Major Alba from the 9th Volunteer Regiment, Winehardt's Division...been hurt pretty bad. When she discovered you were here, she became all excited. Asked if you'd visit her."

Jonathan had to think a moment before he realized just whom the lieutenant was speaking about. The last time he had any information regarding Alba was shortly after the invasion of MueoPoros. At that time, she was a lieutenant in Rock Company. 'Now a Major?' He asked Chasileah if she would accompany him on a visit. She declined, citing her need to get some rest after a busy afternoon.

First kissing Chasileah goodbye, Jonathan and Kittee hurried off to visit his old friend.

* * *

Dinner aboard AnnBoleyn was simple fare of whole grain rye bread, oyster stew with dumplings, steamed hominy, cheese, butter, and sweet, spiced persimmons. Drinks of bitter teas, chicory coffee, sweet lemon-lime and sumac apple cider tickled the palate of many a sailor and marine, but the rum and dark ale rolled in rivers down the throats of these thirsty warriors.

The meal, though basic, was deeply appreciated, being made from non-processed foods. Even the rye flour was freshly ground. For the crew of Shikkeron this was a welcomed treat, it being many long weeks since leaving Ardon's hidden paradise.

(Author's note _: I have been blessed with the complements served from one of those ancient 'protein enhancement modules' – the Navy's standard food duplicators found on old ships like Shikkeron. It is edible, and, if you've a wild enough of an imagination, you might be tempted to think what you're eating is real food. Still, I think a quote from an old theatrical performance I once watched sums it up well. "You can eat it, but it tastes like shit.")_

The huge mess hall had been decorated to create a festive mood and was sufficiently large enough to seat the imperial brigantine's entire complement besides several dozen invited guests from other nearby ships, including Captains Asarel and Joleck. In fact, they were offered the privilege of dining at the admiral's table, with Captain Joleck sitting next to the mysterious Colonel AdayaDarla.

Joleck did enjoy a lengthy conversation with the colonel which was interrupted numerous times, but she found her answers to some questions evasive and uninformative. She did try not to stare as they conversed, but the curved, seemingly opaque lenses of Darla's glasses completely hid the woman's eyes. Another thing that piqued Joleck's curiosity was the raspy growl in Darla's voice and the very dainty bites she took, careful to keep her lips closed as she chewed.

As the banqueting continued into the night, music became louder and the antics of some of the inebriated guests rowdier with amusement aplenty and boisterous laughter. It was during one of those raucous outbursts as Jebbson fell over Ardon in an attempt to kiss Sergeant Oida who was dancing naked on a table that Joleck got her first glimpse into Darla's secret world.

Everyone landed in a heap on the floor, Ardon on the bottom, wearing most of a pitcher of ale with Jebbson sprawled across him clutching a very tipsy sergeant on his lap, the fellow still struggling to gather a kiss.

Darla could not contain herself. Pointing with one hand while holding her ribs with the other, she jovially reprimanded her sergeant, "You're out of uniform! There are those in your company who might take advantage of you in such a compromising situation! And do be careful of that Garlock fellow, too!" She sat back, forgetting herself, laughing with glee, watching an embarrassed Ardon shouting at Jebbson to get off as he struggled to free himself from the tangle.

Captain Joleck's merriment turned to shock as she stared over at the colonel, dropping her spoon, gasping in surprise.

Darla turned to her, the smile melting from her face. "So now you see the dark side of this universe. The stories told by our enemies are not as fanciful as you had imagined are they?" A guttural growl rose from her throat. "I am no longer of your kind but changed. A creature of the evil night I have become, to hunt for blood in the darkness and find solace in the death of my enemies."

Joleck was stunned silent.

Darla continued, "My dear Captain, fear not the madness within me, for it seeks only those who have stolen my soul, my love, my life. There is a man...'Godenn' is his name. His hour of doom draws ever closer. I have seen it in my visions. The demon of darkness lurks ever at his door and it will not rest until he and all that are his have come to nothing. The Therioskotia shall never sleep until its eyes pierce his soul!" With that, Darla removed her glasses.

Joleck recoiled when she saw what looked very much like serpentine eyes staring into hers. She didn't know whether to let out a cry or run away, that is until someone intruded.

Jebbson, now up from the floor, leaned...really half fell across the table, brushing the side of Darla's face with his hand. He grinned, throwing a kiss. "My dear, you tempt me with your beauty. Why do you flaunt it so, to make me jealous?"

Jebbson was quickly pulled away by an even more jealous and very drunk Sergeant Oida. "You have promised me your bed this eve! I shall not take your pandering lightly. Now be off with me while I can still remember the night!"

After kissing Oida and agreeing to leave, Jebbson turned back to Darla and bid her goodnight. Sweeping his arm while attempting a bow, he waxed wistful. "This night is parted from us, but tomorrow I shall call. Our sweet embrace shall echo summer's warmth." With that, he and Oida left Darla's company.

Captain Joleck stared in disbelief, first at Jebbson and then back at Darla. For what appeared an eternity, she studied the colonel's face, almost to Darla's embarrassment. Finally, in a subdued voice, she confessed, "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen!"

A look of disbelief flashed across Darla's face. She appeared ready to make reply, possibly a retort. Instead, she turned away and silently stared down at the table. After several awkward moments, Darla quietly asked, "Is the value of the soul only worth that of the flesh? Should I be maimed or deformed into ugliness, could you still find words to comfort my heart?"

Joleck reached out, taking the colonel's hand. She leaned close, answering, "My dear lady, I see the cruelty of this age has gravely wounded your heart. But you must not hold this age up as the benchmark upon which to judge your brothers and sisters. I, like most of my kind, still remember life as Mother intended it. Back then, before this terrible time, we saw all things through simple eyes. Insight and wisdom were rare among us for those things were not necessary to make my people happy."

She squeezed the colonel's hand. "From the things you and others have told me, I believe you have suffered much abuse at the hands of your siblings and there can be no justifiable excuse made for that. But does the rain fall when there are no clouds in the sky? I perceive you have covered the sun with your gloominess on many occasions, like this eve."

Darla felt stung, wanting to pull her hand away and take her leave, but something inside warned her heart to stay. 'Medicine for the soul.' That's what Euroaquilo called it when he would lecture his young charge. How Darla hated to stay there and suffer the embarrassing indignities of such counsel. But she always remained, taking her medicine, and always felt better about it in the end.

Still, Darla could not help the acidic tone in her voice as she asked, "So, Captain Joleck, what lessons do you wish for me, and how have I spoiled your eve?"

Joleck ignored the colonel's delivery of her question and mildly replied, "A wolf cannot change what it is. Should it trouble the herdsman, it will be driven away. But should a dog become mad and act like a wolf, the farmer will hunt it down to kill it."

Darla continued to stare at the table, saying nothing.

The captain continued, "The dog, by reason of its changed nature, will eventually ravage all things including itself, it becoming unable to distinguish between friend or foe. Its only cure becomes its destruction." Joleck paused then requested, "Please look at me."

With much effort, Darla turned her head until their eyes met.

The captain smiled. "When a dog becomes an unreasoning beast like the wolf, there is no turning back for it. Never can it be re-domesticated. Colonel, you are not yet an unreasoning beast, but your heart wishes that of you because it believes revenge can rebuild a broken heart. Truth be said, should you seek revenge on your heart's terms, it will only ravage it the more, until it is forever ruined. Never will you become free of the bitterness growing within. It will eventually eat away your sanity and fill you with an incurable madness, void of all love.

"You consider me shallow because I say you're beautiful, and because you sense my growing desire to share sweet moments with you. You are angry because you feel yourself ugly both outwardly and inwardly, and think others evil when they have what you deem prurient thoughts regarding your flesh. So you change your womanly nature to that of an unreasoning beast who feels no romantic inclinations until forced by nature into a mindless orgy of senseless abandon. You choose intercourse as the lesser of the two evils that are attempting to enslave your spirit.

"They say a demon once resided within your mind, seeking to steal your soul and breath. I also hear that beast is now gone. But you still hide behind its shadow, using it to protect your heart from pain and suffering. You will fail, my dear Colonel, you will fail. And the longer you resist your real nature, the more painful your awakening will be. It matters little the anger of the tempest or the height of the storm surge. All the waters must return to the sea. It is an unchangeable law of nature. Nature will be obeyed!"

Raising her hand, Joleck stroked a face clouded in self-pity with eyes holding back a river of tears. "Our Mother made us to first see the beauty of the flesh. Yet it is but a door that calls out to us, beseeching us to open its latch and peer inside.

"A beast does not care for beauty! Its soul hides no secrets behind closed doors. That's what makes us so different from beasts. A beast must smell the pheromones of nature to bother the hunt for a mate...and for what lasting purpose? A stag in rut chases the scent of the doe in heat and it cares not to linger after its passion has been satisfied. Shall an arrow find its lover's heart on the morrow, will it mourn its loss?"

Joleck tapped her finger on the table. "Yet our kind find sweet music in the after-love as we share dreams with our companions and our hearts ache endlessly over lost love.

"You, Colonel AdayaDarla, must accept your humanness and all the pain it delivers upon you. If you surrender to the beast within... mind you, a beast that is of your own making... and truly become the monster your enemy believes you to be, you will eventually sink to the same mindless level of insanity to which they have succumbed. If you choose to truly become the Therioskotia you say you now are, no magic will save you from the eternal damnation seeking to imprison your soul. If you do not learn to love, your demon, though now dead, will have won in the end."

With quivering lips and desperate eyes, Darla quietly cried, "But I do love!" She glanced at Ardon, sitting in the distance, commiserating with a glass of ale over his embarrassing encounter with Jebbson. "But I do love!"

"Love?" Joleck questioned caustically. "Love yourself, maybe. When the heat comes upon you or the lonely night wind blows...maybe."

Joleck pointed a finger in Darla's face and accusatively queried, "When was the last time you gave yourself to someone because they needed you...your love? When was the last time you looked with pity upon the desperate heart of a person crying out for love, and spread yourself as a feast, offering to fill their soul with pleasure?"

Looking away, the captain lowered her voice. "I have seen men ravage the corpses of my female companions." She closed her eyes. "You see... even a dead woman can pleasure a man who is little more than a beast. Yet when you close your heart to a lover and refuse to allow him to peer beyond your door, you, yourself, are forcing him to act like little more than a beast."

She looked into a distressed face and asked, "You think my words harsh? Then tell me, do you think your losses from this war are greater than all others? Have we not all been ravaged and tortured, torn from loving arms and cast upon a lonely bed of thorns? Tell me, please, if you have a mouth to speak, have you loved others as you wished to be loved?"

Tears began to fall. Darla squeezed Joleck's hand. "But I do love!" She lowered her head and wept. "Please, a person enslaved may desire freedom, but not know what it really is. Please teach your slave girl what love really is."

Joleck cradled Darla in her arms, rocking her gently. When the tears slowed, she suggested they find a more private place. Like shadows on a wall, they slipped away from remaining merrymakers who paid no notice to two souls slowly making their way out from among them.

Age does not wisdom make, nor power might. Each person must cross over the River of Destiny, the price of our fare to be determined after we board. For some it is but little and easy to bear. For others it may be the wages of a thousand suns. Darla was just stepping upon the deck of a strange and troubling vessel, wondering where the tiller-man was taking her and the price for her journey yet unknown.

* * *

Treston's fingers tenderly caressed Daisho's palid face while he contemplated the long journey the two had taken to reach this uncertain destination. Daisho's body lay naked upon a marble bench, as ashen and cold as the stone cradling the woman. For all of Ysuah's reassurances, the colonel could not help but ache over the loss of this loyal, dear traveling companion.

A sharp echo of footsteps on the hard granite floor of the pillared mausoleum drew Treston's attention away from the solemn moment. Looking around, he saw Ysuah and JabethHull approaching, followed closely by Eremia and Clarion.

Ysuah waved his hand in salutation, smiling, "There you are, Therapon, my brother. After much searching, we concluded we'd find our healer hidden behind these walls."

Treston, forcing a half-smile, quietly replied, "It is better to find solace in remembering the road to journey's end than to celebrate the merriment at its finish. For the few who drink from the victory cup often do so because of the sacrifices of the many who ever fail to taste its glory."

Ysuah grinned, reaching a hand out as he drew closer. "Ah, yes, but death by valor in battle brings glory in life! We are not profferers of sadness nor are we merchants of death. Your Daisho is most precious to us and we will do right concerning her. Indeed it is already such. Even you cannot understand the glory she receives...at least not yet."

As the four gathered around Treston, he sighed, "To you it is but a moment in time and she will appear as fresh as a spring flower, but alas, for me it is a very difficult thing. Faith is what I still must live by and guilt still drives my soul. She came with me because I requested it, a companion because I feared to ride alone into the darkness. And here..." he pointed at where the woman lay, "and here is the reward I provided."

JabethHull grimaced, asking, "Didn't your father tell you yet? Long has his ardor been strong for this woman." He pointed at Daisho. "He fell in love with her. Yes, our kind do love in our own way. Anyway, Ysuah's been eyeing this child for many long days. He delivered her here through you."

Ysuah waved his hand in defense. "I hadn't intended that you should attempt her death along the way though." He added, laughing, "I do see that you have a certain way with women."

Treston's face flushed red.

JabethHull continued the tease. "For sure! My daughter, Alynnou, I wonder? After all you put her through, and still she pines for your touch. I don't know what powers you have, but it seems to me the harder you hit 'em, the more they love you."

"Alynnou?!" Treston cried out, excited. "She's...?"

"Fine..." JabethHull answered, resting a hand on Treston's shoulder. "I have recently paid a social visit upon her, reassuring my child that you were also quite well. It appears she is severely smitten by your charms. Why, I don't really understand. Other than her melancholy feelings over you, the woman is mending quickly. She's out and about, helping others including your ward... oh... oh... what's her name...?"

"Ishtar?!" Treston's voice quivered with excitement. "You know of Ishtar's well-being?!"

Rolling his eyes in disbelief, Ysuah answered, "What is it with your kind?! Do your eyes see only in daylight?! Do not underestimate the power of a Cherub. Why, in one night Jabeth here, brought down one hundred and eighty-six thousand earthling men trained in combat! Each of his adversaries he knew by name, selectively choosing those who would live and those who were to die."

JabethHull nodded in agreement. "It was not the place of our children to bring your kind to ruin. Few earthling men have fallen to their arrows. We, though, do decide such things for your race. But now that you're here that, too, will soon change." He returned to the current subject, allowing Treston no time to ask questions. "Ishtar is badly damaged, but mostly in her heart. She fears that you will think her ugly and come to hate her. She is a child, filled with the vanity of youth."

Ysuah concurred. "The girl looks up to you, trusts you. She seeks your approval above all others. When you return, please comfort and console her. It will heal much of the pain she still suffers over the cruelty unleashed upon her by your hand."

Stepping forward, he reached out and touched Daisho, sighing, "My spirit has long awaited this day. She is so much like Michael in the love displayed for our Zoe." He looked over at Treston. "But the woman has the spirit of the great horned beasts that thunder their way across this planet. Soon now will my prophecy concerning her begin."

"What prophecy is that, Father?" Treston asked, curious. "Do I know of it, or is it a thing still hidden in the mist from me?"

Ysuah grinned, but did not chide Treston for his lack of knowledge. "As I told you but three days before, as we stood outside the distant gates, my riddles have many meanings and shall be fulfilled as I see fit.

"Therapon, you are king over these people. That you have been told, but do not yet wish to accept. Soon you will have to take the crown offered you. You are not given choice in the matter. From the day you drove away the dogs from Ishtar's lifeless body, we, the first children of ZoeStethos, have been readying you for this very hour. Since that day, I've been preparing to take my Daisho into the Realms Beyond Time, to make her fit to be companion to you through your coming journey."

"So tell me, my L..." Treston began to ask.

Holding his hand up in protest, Ysuah interrupted, "My brother! I am but your brother. It is important that you understand that."

"My... my brother..." Treston corrected himself. "Please, how does your ancient prophecy given me at the fire so long ago involve Daisho and possibly so many others?"

"You have asked wisely, Therapon." Ysuah replied. "Much you have to learn. I will tell you but a little, for even I, a Cherub of great renown, must prepare for the new moon's passing." He pointed toward Eremia and Clarion. "These two Seraphim we have chosen to be of your council. No secrets have we withheld from them and their tongues are not bound by any oaths. Any question you may ask of them will be answered with honesty and knowledge.

"Clarion is the Princess of Music. Her tunes carry strange and wonderful powers. Mountains shake and oceans rage, depending upon the mood of her heart. She can feel the earth speaking and the wind crying. Nothing the enemy may say or do can remain secret to her eyes and ears.

"Eremia is the Prince of Madness. Should he call down evil upon man or beast, it will surely come to be. His sword cleaves apart nations and in his strength worlds are torn asunder. No mortal dares stand the battle line against his blade.

"Therapon," Ysuah reached out, grasping Treston's arms, "soon will come the gathering of a great host," he revealed, pointing at Eremia and Clarion, "like these two, along with some of your kind. They will come together under your banner, and you will lead them to the conquering of this planet. Indeed, already has the war been won. Now it must be brought to a finish."

He turned back to Daisho, tenderly stroking her arm. "When you soon exit these gates, this woman will again be at your side but not as you have known her. As this land must be ruled over by a king, so will it be mastered by my daughter-queens. Forever will there be a guard upon this land, rulers to protect the holy city, ruled over by your Queen Ishtar. But there is more...so much more."

Leaning close to Daisho's ear, Ysuah cooed, "My little darling, soon will come to pass the hour of fire and storm. You will succeed through this torment that burns away life and death and all things precious. Who you will become is what you will be called, 'Queen 'ElQana', 'god of jealous zeal'. You will tolerate no rivalry against our Zoe, and you will stand as a purifier of all this good land."

Ysuah stood back, glanced at JabethHull who silently agreed and then looked at Treston. "We must take our leave. Eremia will accompany us on our business, but we leave you Clarion. She is very helpful with providing information and will answer any of your pressing questions. I suggest you also depart this room and leave Daisho's sleeping temple in peace."

There would be no arguing on Treston's part. Too many had been the years in the legions of his day for him to protest Ysuah's suggestion. Besides, death had been so commonplace for him. 'Funerals are for the living, my son, a place where the guilty may ask for absolution and the innocent find sweet revenge...' his father once said to him just before his own passing.

As they departed the great hall going by the tall, outer stone columns and descending the dozen or so steps to the street below, JabethHull warned Clarion, smiling, teasing, "Do be careful, my sister! This man has a way about him that can seduce even the stars to abandon themselves to his wiles! Watch out for his flirting eyes...yours, too, may I add. His ardor must be at its peak very soon now. Be careful so that you do not diminish the fire growing within him."

A very embarrassed Treston sheepishly looked away while Clarion laughed, looking at JabethHull. "My nights with this one who is still a mortal will be soon enough in coming. But my dream shares with you shall satisfy my soul for many long days."

Astonished, Treston whipped his head around, staring at Jabeth. "You?!"

Jabeth grinned, pointing first at Treston and then Clarion. "You're my brother. She is my sister. In your world, we Cherubs take on the form of men, because this pleases our Zoe so. I take a fancy to my sisters. Clarion is my sister just as she is yours, but even moreso, seeing she and I have journeyed beyond the stars together for longer than your kind has existed."

He reached out and touched Treston's arm. "Please understand by this illustration. Roses may well be of many varied appearances, having several faceted qualities unlike their kindred, yet they are all still roses. So with Zoe's children... We are all one in mind and soul, only our flesh being of a different nature. And even that will one day change. You and she" pointing at Clarion, "will one day become like us in even that."

Reaching out and cradling Clarion's chin in his hand, Jabeth softly crooned, "Tonight the moon is but a sliver of itself and in four days it shall be born anew. This eve I give to your heart so that it will find contentment during the coming bitter winter when we must part. You know where to find me after the sun's fire dies beyond the distant hills."

Clarion reached up, clasping his hand with hers. "My Lord, the worlds of yesterday spring to life when your breath blows upon my cheek. Lagandow, where I first gathered my heart to your tent, rises in my soul again when I hear your gentle refrains. Seek not another for this eve, for I shall not disappoint you with my absence."

Watching the children of this realm speaking and acting so openly concerning passions and desires that his kind kept hidden behind heavy curtains still troubled Treston. He had not resided in the First Realm long enough to shed those inhibitions. And thinking of this Cherub bedding a woman from this realm was a little much for his prudish reasoning.

Keeping his gaze upon Clarion, Jabeth answered Treston's unasked question. "My brother, in the coming days after you, too, have become like one of us, you will come to understand that it is your kind and not ours who lacks knowledge of true romance, for the flesh is but a tool for your mind, to feel what is the true reality where we, the Cherubs, reside. The immortal mind is the true flesh, being free of all limits and constraints. For those gaining immortality of the mind, the flesh of the body is no longer necessary but only a cloak to clothe oneself in when in front of mortals."

He smiled at Clarion. "This child has experienced that world of the Immortals, long ago, when all things were still pure and joyous. Through the Cherubs' eyes, all the Seraphim have come to experience immortality and the joys found there. Alynnou has even gifted you with a shadow-dream of our world, though I doubt you have comprehended it to be so at this time. And that is a good thing for now." After kissing Clarion, Jabeth smiled and looked toward Treston. "As was said earlier, we Cherubs do love."

"Come along now," Ysuah interrupted. "The hour is passing quickly and we have many things to do. Zoe stirs. I feel it. She will awake soon. I do not want to miss our Lady's surprise at the gifts waiting for her. Hurry along and leave your passion for the eve after we have finished other business." He poked Jabeth. "The child will not melt under the boy's wiles." He leaned in close, teasing, "After all, she has Mister Charming waiting for her tonight."

The three hurried away, leaving Treston and Clarion alone.

Clarion breathed a deep sigh. "My Lord Therapon, I see your unease. Do not think badly of our kind, please. We know and understand the world in which you resided was filled with many restrictions and taboos." She turned to him. "But your old world is passing away along with all the triflings of your kind within it. In the day of our Shiloh and his Kali, all that is will come to naught, and all that is to be shall be revealed."

She reached for his hand. "Come now! I don't bite." She chided when he hesitated.

After surrendering it to her, Clarion went on. "Together we shall explore your new kingdom. You have been so busy these many days, using your healing magic on our wounded, you have failed to see this beautiful city that our immortal brothers built so many countless ages ago. Come and we will walk."

For the better part of the afternoon, the two busied themselves exploring the quiet city behind the secret gates. Occasionally they would come upon other wanderers or a small gathering of mounted troopers practicing their skills, but for the most part the streets were Treston's and Clarion's private wonderland. And a wonderland it was.

Clarion relished the moment. For her it was as much fun answering Treston's many questions as it was for him to ask, often offering lengthy details far in excess of his mind's desire. "So long have I remained silent, my heart bursting to tell others about this place, but alas, who was there to describe the things that make my heart burn with joy who didn't already feel the same?"

Treston marveled at the architecture his eyes beheld. "So much is strange to me, yet it is as if I have returned to my own day and time. In Athens I saw many such monuments to greatness and the Temple Artemis at Ephesus, this very building here" he pointed toward a giant columned structure across the street, "is conjured up in my mind when I peer at its beauty."

Clarion squeezed Treston's hand. "My Lord Therapon, the world of your day I have not seen other say than through visions in my head as I slept beneath ceilings of stone. But it does not surprise me that your world came to appear much the same as you see here. Indeed, it was through the minds of the Seraphim, myself included, that the beauteous works of art the children hold so dear in this realm came into existence."

Much surprised, Treston asked, "Please tell me then, because your words confuse my reasoning ability, what of your history here? I know little of it, never hearing even a thread of it told to me before arriving in this place and, being so busy, having been told little more since. Who are you? You walk with the immortal Cherubs, even share their dreams...or I assume. Your powers are beyond measure, at least as I understand, yet you do not know of my race of men...at least from my day."

Clarion begged Treston to sit. "I will tell you what I can, for the hour is short. The sun will soon set and I must keep my promise to JabethHull. My heart even now aches for his touch.

"Already you know of our retreat from Memphis to this most sacred place. There were thousands of us, for we had recently gathered there for a Grand New Moon celebration and a council to consider what role the Seraphim were to play in the nearing war. Before the day of your Great Flood, no real war had yet swept our world.

"Through treachery and deceit, our activities were revealed to Chrusion. Unbeknownst to Gabrielle and PalaHar, the greatest of our kind, Legion had gathered a large host to conquer the city and murder all the Seraphim within it. Only at the last moment was the plot discovered. Those who could escape the planet did."

Sadly shaking her head, Clarion confessed, "There were not enough ships for us all. Those who remained behind put up a ferocious defense but were woefully outnumbered. Seeing that Legion, Chrusion's lieutenant in charge of the invasion, was bent on our murder, the greatly reduced number of us fled Memphis on the fourteenth night of fighting. We were forced to leave many of the wounded behind, their screams for mercy being heard far beyond the city walls.

"A horrific storm swept down from the north, its driving winds and rain slowing Legion's pursuing army. During the tempest, we managed to make the foothills of the Jahouk Mountains. Our rearguard blocked the Pass of Korteniaz for six days and nights, driving back one enemy assault after another. Gradually their dwindling numbers were forced up the pass, into the narrowing canyon just below the gate, which remained closed before us.

"With strong outcries and petitions, our voices rose for the Cherubs to have mercy upon us. When we believed all was lost - the battle pressing us to the Gate of EpipHaneia - it opened, unleashing a blinding light that flooded down the valley and beyond the pass. I remember nothing more of that adventure. When I awoke...whether it was days or years, I did not know...I was resting on a stone barrow similar to the one that Daisho sleeps on. I was later told that an arrow pierced my heart and that JabethHull, in fire and flame, swept down from above to save me from death. That I was told."

Casting her gaze to the ground, Clarion sighed. "There were well over ten thousand of us Seraphim remaining in Memphis along with a large host of allied brothers the day Legion invaded. Of the Seraphim, little over thirty-four hundred of us reached this city. I do not know what became of those defenders who were not of our kind. They did not come here with us, but remained behind when Memphis fell, hoping upon Legion's mercy, which I doubt he offered."

Clarion pulled Treston close, starting to weep. "Long have I ached over death of innocent souls, I living while others died in my helplessness. You see, a serious wound I received on the very first day while fighting along the outer wall of Memphis. In the confusion, I fell from one of the parapets, breaking my back, and was taken to a medical center near the north gate of the old city. My brother, Eremia, gathered me up in his arms when they fled the city. That is why I live to tell you these things. I am so ashamed to have lived!"

Treston allowed his companion to purge her soul of pent-up emotions that had eaten away at her for so many long years. He pondered her life, being taught at the feet of these strange and beautiful Cherubs, failing to act to stop the Rebellion, only to fall in defeat in the first hours of the contest against it. Who were the children of Lowenah, so strong and resolute, determined to bring wickedness to an end, yet so fragile and innocent, unable to understand the reasons for this war, plagued with guilt over honor and duty, why, for even being alive?

Yet they fought – like madmen they fought. When all hope was lost, they continued the fight. Treston slowly shook his head. Much rather would he wish to face a dozen raging Gauls than to stand against one woman the likes of Sirion or Daisho. More than once the man had heard the same weeping such as Clarion's as the women of this world raced into battle. With tears of grief, wailing, they would tear their enemies to pieces. Treston shuddered at his remembering.

When her tears subsided, Treston shared some of his life's adventures - the day he was rescued by Ysuah in the winter woods, the loss of his cousin and brother in battle, some other more personal experiences he had never revealed, which surprised him more than a little. At length Clarion stood, pulling at Treston to do the same. They continued down the street.

In time, Clarion picked up her tale. "This city has not changed since I first walked through its gates so many lifetimes ago. It was and still is such a strange and wonderful place. You see, what you call the 'barrows' are so much more than a bier for the broken and weary to rest. They are the greatest of all travel machines.

"Our Daisho does not sleep in death as you picture her. Any of Mother's children – the Cherubs' name for her is 'ZoeStethos', or just 'Zoe' – brought to this city, which carries the same name as the gate that protects it, are taught to use these barrows to travel into the worlds of the Immortals...far into them."

Dumbfounded, Treston asked Clarion to explain herself.

She smiled. "JabethHull mentioned my journey with him earlier this day. It is true, I have shared his love and passion countless times, but not in this frail body. Only when one is released from this temple can one come to realize the meaning of pure love. You see, immortal love is not like ours...like yours and mine would be in a dream share. Immortal love unleashes the secret energy residing in the hearts of Zoe and her Cherubs.

"The experience is no vision, my Lord. When one rests their head on the barrow stone found in these what you call 'mausoleums', they are changed. Their mind is drawn away from the mortal body and, for a little while, planted into one that is immortal. Then, having certain abilities granted by the Cherubs, that body can journey into the realms beyond realms.

"My Lord..." she gripped Treston's arm as excitement grew within her heart, "the joys reserved for the children who are granted immortality are beyond my ability to describe. My coming time with JabethHull will fill my heart to bursting and will satisfy my yearning for his touch for many days."

Squeezing his arm, the woman added, "And there is good reason for me to go with him this eve. It is to help bring your passions to the full so that all things will come to pass." Even with Treston's insistent promptings, Clarion refused to speak further of the matter.

They passed beyond the city proper, into the wooded countryside. Clarion broke out in a melancholy song, telling of happy days in forests on planets long ago. When finished, she mourned, "No more does my home exist. Lagandow was the place of my birthing, at least as far as my heart is concerned. There I became a woman, a warrior, a lover. Alas, the Cherubs do not feel loss as we do. Its destruction at their hands caused them no pain as it did me."

She looked around. "This is the last of Lagandow. What few animals, plants, and other living creatures are found here came from that planet long ago. This tiny wilderness was used to help those of us who were gathered here to prepare for our journey to that place. We do not live in the city. Other than our occasional trips to the mausoleums, which we have only done rarely, the city remains empty, that is until now, since the 'Night of Great Fire', when your kind freed our spirits to be one with you, giving us renewed powers and strengths. Soon, my Lord, you and I shall ride out to greet our enemies. I shall have opportunity to regain my honor as a true Seraphim."

Clarion stared into Treston's eyes. "My Lord Therapon, I am not immortal and like so many of my brethren, I do not expect to survive the coming storm. Do not be fooled by JabethHull's words. Yes, I have many powers, but I cannot ward off an enemy's arrow or, as over one hundred of my brothers and sisters discovered the other day, the strange and deadly weapons used so freely in today's combat."

Treston spoke not a word. He understood all too well just how fragile a body of flesh and bone is, especially when contending against the modern weapons of war the children now used. To think that a person many miles from the fighting could be torn asunder was still almost incomprehensible to him. He squeezed Clarion's hand as they continued their travels.

The sun's light was fading by the time they had returned to the city. Treston had seen many tiny villages as primitive as any from his old days. Few were the tools these children possessed, most having been manufactured from the flints and jades found abundantly in the mountain streams. What few iron tools they had were made from the weapons brought with them when fleeing here.

It is true the Cherubs had been helpful in providing for their needs. But, for the most part, the children had been left to themselves, protected from any harm by the gloomy mist of the mountains. That was now changed. Everywhere, Treston could see the children preparing for war. Horses they had aplenty, and bows and arrows, but other than the weapons taken from the recent battle, they had little else. Why, even the derker blade was not known to them.

Off in the distance, Treston watched flames alight in the spiral towers on the eastern side of the city. In rapid succession, from east to west, flames ignited along a line of towers until the entire city was ringed with dancing lights.

Before Treston could ask, Clarion offered explanation. "The hour of Hupomnesis draws ever closer. It is the celebration remembering our deliverance by the Cherubs, when they provided us escape to this sanctuary. This year it coincides with NoumeniuaTelikoutos – the festival of the Grand New Moon, when the moons over Memphis and Palace city become new at the very same hour. This is the first time the lunar hours and solar anniversary have conjoined since we last gathered at Memphis, and it is the precursor to the Great Juncture, grandest of all events the universe has to display. It is the day of our longed-for rebirth that was promised to us ages ago."

She looked wistfully in the direction of the city's gate hidden in the eastern mist. "No power of mind or body can penetrate the gloom surrounding us. For all this time we have needed to depend on our Cherub brothers for news and information. It has been scant at best, they arguing, 'It is not our place to interfere in your worlds. For our part, it was only by our setting aside our own laws that permitted your entrance here. Be joyous for such mercy and wait upon your day of release, when you shall become full-grown in your powers and might'.

"In four days all things will have come to pass. For good or ill, the destiny of our worlds shall be sealed. Sirion must be purified, cleansed of the demons within. Then, if your cure is manifest successful, I shall take my place beside you as we advance toward our final destiny."

"I am supposed to make cure of this woman, I am told." Treston answered, confused. "Yet I do not know what is expected of me other than I have deduced having my passions for her at a peak."

Clarion smiled. "That is enough for you to know for the moment. This also I will tell you. Sirion is not who you think her to be, save being among the last of all children born to our mother. She was but of fourteen years when the Rebellion began. It was the custom of my people for every female child of Lowenah's to be handed over to Chrusion at the age of twelve years until her twentieth, to be trained and educated in all his ways.

"Sirion was trained all right, during the time Chrusion's heart grew malicious and wicked. Secretly, into the child, this evil man introduced his demonic creations, practicing on her what he hoped to deliver upon Michael. Over a period of many months, the girl received one monster after another, each one more damning than the one before. In her dreaming hours, Chrusion would play with these demons of his, testing them on the girl without her knowledge, to see how they reacted on a woman's mind."

A shiver ran down Clarion's back. "Ysuah revealed to Eremia in a dream the child's plight. So it was that he took her for his own, to finish Sirion's years of obligation, and to attempt a cure. There was none. The demons within the child are elusive and very intelligent, hiding deep in the corners of the girl's mind. There was nothing Eremia could do other than build up Sirion's defenses until someone with greater powers could drive the demons from her.

"As the darkness of this evil age progressed, the power of the demons gradually increased. Eremia managed to contain the menace facing Sirion, protecting her best he could while she shared his bed. Fearing her going mad should she find out what grew within, he never told the girl about the demons, something he regretted so after Legion's invasion of Memphis. From what I have been told, it remained much a secret until her recent capture and imprisonment. And even then, it appears the enemy failed to figure out how great a treasure they had until after her release at the prisoner exchange."

Clarion stared into Treston's eyes. "My Lord Therapon, it is our belief that Sirion was pursued by the enemy for the very reasons I have spoken to you. If Chrusion could find a way to extract his abominations from the woman's mind, he could, I foresee, eventually pollute the minds of us all, condemning us to a living death. You, my Lord, I perceive, are the one destined by the Cherubs to bring to a finish what was started in secret so long ago."

"I am but a man!" Treston protested. "What good is a dog when the lion stands at the door?! What do they...the Cherubs expect from me? I am no holy man, able to do good things. I am little more than a vulgar, arrogant bastard born of a prostitute and raised by a whoremaster whose sole purpose in life was to gain wealth and glory at all cost. My bed was between the legs of any woman I could seduce or force to be with me and my lust was for gold and adventure. What can an evil spawn like me do to bring down Satan's house?"

Clarion lowered her head. "My Lord, you carry a Cherub's sword given to VanGoddawin many ages ago. Of it a prophecy was uttered saying should the world turn to darkness, it would come to pass. 'Taught by the demons and raised from the depths, the wrath of the serpent shall smite the Dragon's spawn. And what is righteous shall return to the darkness to strike the wicked'. Who better is there to strike down the Dragon's spawn than one who was such himself?"

Treston shook his head in dismay, disagreeing in protest, telling Clarion there must be another.

Clasping his hand, Clarion begged, "My Lord, do not fail us! Do not fail Sirion! If you do not fulfill this prophecy, there will come no other after you who can succeed. Sirion will eventually surrender to her growing madness, living in constant torment until the world's ending... and end it will. Mother will not be able to suffer the agony of even one of her children condemned to damnation. In her own madness, she will bring her creations to nothing."

She continued pleading, "Please! Your soul was chosen long ago to accomplish this task. In the days before your planet's ruin, the prophecy concerning this very hour was given us, though none of us understood it at the time. Is it not true that in the darkness one stays on the trail by sense not sight? Tell me, please, oh my blessed Therapon, does your heart not tell you the road upon which you now walk is the right one? Does not the scent of wild rose across a storm-tossed sea tell the sailor that land is near?"

Treston sat down on a stone curb, his chin resting in his hand. At length he answered, quoting his friend Jonathan, "'And the sea gave up those dead within it...to be judged, both the righteous and wicked. So you too, my friend, were once dead, tossed about by a wild and ruthless sea. Does life renewed forget its former ways before its death, or must it lament its hours spent in the raging tempest? It is not who you were, even who you may think you are. But it is the man who you will become that lights the world of all living things'."

Tears welled up in his eyes. "I know the kind of man I used to be, but know not for sure the man I am at present. What I will become is still hidden in the breeze. But, as I live, I promise you, I will not surrender my brothers and sisters to such a fate of which you have spoken. Sirion may not be freed of her demons and may one day go mad. But it will not be because I failed to act to save her from such a fate. This dog will not bark and run away. The lion shall not enter the gate as long as breath remains within me. That I promise you!"

Clarion sat beside Treston, squeezing his arm, smiling through her tears. "You, my dear Therapon, are a holy man." She snuggled up beside him, humming a little tune while resting her head on his shoulder.

A warm breeze drifted up the street as if announcing the evening darkness. A distant bell tolled the hour. Clarion sat upright, staring away toward the north. Up on a far hill, a lone building sat. Only its darkened outline could be seen now, but Treston remembered it to be a splendid structure supported by spindly, tall columns and covered with beautifully carved runes.

A gentle glow could soon be seen coming from inside the building. Clarion stood, Treston doing the same. Taking his hand, the woman turned and kissed him. "That is but a token of the affection I carry for a great and wonderful man. Dare you not forget who you really are. No more deprecation of self, understand?!"

Treston promised.

The white of Clarion's teeth shone in the gathering darkness as she grinned. "JabethHull has now returned. I dare not keep him waiting. On the morrow I shall join up with you at our arranged spot. Until then, enjoy the peace offered you by our gracious hosts. They have set a delightful repast for you and Sirion this night. Many are the stories they can tell and love to, if only one asks."

She kissed Treston again and then hurried across the street, disappearing under the shadows of giant sycamore trees. Long did Treston linger there, pondering his future and that of his many companions. At last, at his stomach's pleading, he took the avenue south toward the lighted center of the city, listening to the lilting melodies of joyous merrymakers.

(Author's note: _For an in depth, personal recounting of his first weeks behind the walls of EpipHaneia, and his detailed accounts of the Cherubs' Tales as told him by the Seraphim of that city,_ _Recollections of Ruby's Dawning_ _is a must read.)_

The remaining days before the Great New Moon celebration passed quickly. Treston took advantage of Eremia and Clarion's vast knowledge of life and history regarding the Seraphim, and their mentors and fathers, the Cherubs. Most intriguing was their information about, for lack of better words, 'the secret world of the minds'. The gist of it was this, from Clarion's account:

"There exists a universe beyond the mortal imagination, filled with wonders and sights that defy explanation. Through our dreams we come in contact with it...a reality, in fact, but interpreted as visions and fantasy.

"Our mind is designed to see but one dimension of a multi-faceted universe. Without knowledge and understanding of the vastness of the creation beyond, when one sees only with a simple eye and does not comprehend those worlds, then when the interplay of dimensions does occur, the mind defines the unexplained in rational ways for that simple eye to grasp. In order, then, to make some logical semblance of the things experienced, the mind draws on its knowledge of remembered people, places, and events, and, so to speak, creates its own perceived reality.

"As an example, say one sees a living shape that moves and acts with intelligence, but the brain can find no visual way to define it. Unable to satisfy logic, which is how the mortal's mind works, it interprets the shape to that of a floating sheet or glowing mist, thus the ghosts of your old world came into existence.

"Through knowledge and understanding, a person grows in mental powers and wisdom. That is why we grow past the dreams of youth, often laughing at the things that used to scare us. That's right. A person who lacks understanding will have greater fear of the unknown. That fear will alter how our brain interprets things our mind sees in the outer world, and that place is ever changing. Nightmares are often caused by our lack of knowledge of what is seen in that outer world. Fear enters our heart, making us feel afraid, and our brain begins painting our visions with things that terrorize us, thus the nightmare.

"These wondrous travel machines..." I waved my hand, pointing toward one of the great, columned buildings, "have journeyed us Seraphim far into Lowenah's secret outer worlds. One does not just dream as you think of dreaming when they slumber upon the gray dreaming stones. The person's body becomes dormant, as though dead. Even the heart slows its beats to only a few every year or so. Then the secret flesh of the mind literally departs for the worlds beyond.

"Without the limits placed upon it by a mortal's brain, the mind can fully absorb the reality of these outer worlds. The laws of this universe do not rule over those worlds, and what would be profound here is only commonplace there. Much I would love to tell you about these glorious places – all manner of living things, beautiful and grotesque, planets of every shape and size, islands of ice floating upon nothing filled with crystalline creatures and plant life. And there is so much more to tell..."

I shook my head. "But alas, my words do not begin to define what I see in my mind. One day I can explain to you with my dream share. But oh, by that time you will have come to know much of what I speak, for you are to journey this very day into places few may tread and yet survive. And your knowledge will change your understanding of the world I find so beautiful, it always being a shadow land for you, with dark memories and darker deeds."

Therapon was beside himself with questions, few of which I was able to answer, but I did tell him, "This night of the Great New Moon brings not only this planet into alignment with EdenEsonbar, it creates a linkage with five other planets known only to Lowenah, the Cherubs, and the Seraphim – that is, except for Lagandow, the land of rumor. There will occur what you might call a 'cosmic event' both in this universe... and, more importantly, in the outer worlds...those of the Cherubs.

"It is said that this planet, MueoPoros, is near the vortex of the universe. What it means, as explained to me as I watched such an occurrence from high above the Plain of Fire on Lagandow, is that the power of Lowenah's universe is reborn, regenerated you might say. It is on this night that the hidden energies of the outer worlds make themselves manifest to all living things in this world. Strange happenings and dreams, for those whose minds are open to it, will be a sign of its taking place.

"A person can also see strange sights in the sky around the time of a Great New Moon. Trigger events begin. It is a time when old, worn out star systems fade from existence, sometimes becoming exploding stars. It is also a time when new star systems spring to life, slowly at first, but it's after the Great New Moon when they start. What you call 'northern lights' multiply greatly, and... and weather systems may drastically change on planets, cold to hot... hot to cold. It's a time filled with delicious surprises. So it is here on this planet that one can best witness the mating dances of the universes.

"This planet lives and, just like those energy guns we delivered from the battlefield, it needs its batteries recharged - really just given a boost, you might say." I knew that Therapon was unfamiliar with many of my big words, he growing up at a time when the water wheel and simple gearing were considers wonders, so I tried to explain it more simply.

"You have a brain. It lets you think and ponder. We call that 'intelligence'. Rabbits and insects also have brains, and it helps them think and ponder but in a much different way and on a very different level. Well, most stars and planets, including Mueo Poros and your old Earth have brains also, at least brains of sorts, like the machine brains that drive our ships across the skies."

Therapon nodded with understanding, but was still puzzled. He asked why it was done this way, why such an interconnection of all things. I answered as best I could. "I was told by RosMismar, the chief among the Cherubs, that Lowenah has an insatiable need to feel her inventions of life and creation. So she made a timepiece of colossal proportion. The alignment of the Great New Moon is like a pulse or tick of that clock which she can feel. It tells her the shape of things in the worlds beyond her vision. It helps her know all things."

I smiled through my tears, the thought of that disturbing me so. "JabethHull told me just two nights ago that Shiloh's rise to power and glory will begin on the night of the next Great New Moon. And then, as you quoted your friend, Jonathan, the other day, 'there will be signs in the sun and the moon and the stars'. I dream of that day."

Therapon wondered aloud concerning this 'Shiloh', stating that on his adventures back to the Second Realm, he and Ishtar were purposely introduced to the boy Lowenah said was the very person I spoke of. I became so excited! So Shiloh lived even as we spoke?! I had so many questions for Therapon to now answer, which he attempted to do as best he could.

He then asked me if I could tell him why Lowenah was so adamant that he and Ishtar see the young man who was still so much a boy. Eremia interrupted, proceeding to tell us what he personally knew. "This I have been told by RosMismar, himself, a chieftain among the Cherubs."

Eremia asked us to sit. "The blood of great warriors flows in your veins, most of whom you have never known. There was Thermimophaze, a Tibonite...a nation of people long extinct before your day. Alone, Thermimophaze defended the gate of his city against one hundred attackers, striking down thirty before falling mortally wounded. Then there was Hidrophaneah, armor bearer for Prince Tusundie. He it was who led the desperate counterattack to retake the outer walls of Mapeah in the First Trojan War.

"But great warriors are only a small number of your forebears. Poets, prophets and seers – the wise men of ancient days – all added their little bit to make you the great man you have become. Why, even Abraham's seed you are, through Peezer, fourth son of Zaphenathpaneah – better known to you as 'Joseph' – and his wife Asenath, daughter of Potiphera, priest of On. Yes, my friend, many are the great men and women through which your lineage comes."

Though impressed, Therapon puzzled over its importance.

Eremia laughed, chiding Therapon, "You lock your reasoning behind thick walls of iron. Your very presence here should help you envision a reason for its importance. Look! Zoe does not dabble in destiny without purpose, as you informed us about Ishtar, she telling you how Zoe manipulated her conception. Do you think she is the only child invented by Mother's hand?"

Therapon became very much disturbed, asking, "How can you say that I am a product of destiny?! Lowenah would not create such an evil progeny... Diabolos' stepchild! No! One so pure of heart and soul would never countenance an evil creature such as me."

Eremia shook his head, wagging a finger. "Do not consider yourself so great as to be the only stepchild of the Devil, and do not believe that a son must act the same as his father. True, many are the things you did that we shall not speak of this day, but those acts, in themselves, do not disqualify you from being Zoe's progeny nor do they make you Asotos'. There have been others in your line of ancestors much more vile, who were contrivances of Mother's dabbling.

"Zojecten the Terrible is one who comes to mind, tyrant of a nomadic tribe that invaded Rome long before there was a Rome, sacking and pillaging from the Southern Alps all the way to the Great Sea. Every city and village he conquered he would burn with fire, murdering the men and handing over the women to his army for their pleasure. The wives and daughters of the town's leaders he would brutally rape and torture in front of the townspeople, later hanging them by their breasts on hooks, alive, upon the gates of the burning city.

"One young woman escaped such a death after her violation. She managed to hide herself away during the drunken orgy that soon engulfed the camp, eventually finding her way to the sea with other refugees and, obtaining her passage aboard a merchant ship by dubious intrigues, made her way to Crete. There she gave birth to a daughter, child of Zojecten the Terrible, your forebear.

"Now, for your information, Zojecten was a contemptible man, but a man our Mother had dabbled with before his birth. And through his wickedness – something Mother had nothing to do with – his power and strength were handed over to you."

He slapped Therapon on the shoulder. "My friend, the road to destiny is paved with many stones, and it is the road made up of the many different stones that becomes most important. When one journeys it, the individual stones become meaningless, compared to the destination at journey's end. Your ancestors are merely so many paving stones in that road to destiny."

Therapon pointed toward himself, bewildered, asking, "So am I the destiny that all these stones have led to... offspring of both good and evil forces?"

Rolling his eyes toward the sky while rubbing his chin, Eremia hesitated before answering. "Well... yes and no. You see, you were...are one of those paving stones. But when Mother saw your actions after the trial of Ishtar, she chose a new destiny for you and here you are, Therapon, king of EpipHaneia."

I frowned, taking hold of Eremia's arm. "Do not riddle the poor fellow. After all, you are his counselor. Shall truth be administered by the whim of the doctor, or do we confess all of the patient's ailments so that he can be totally dumbfounded?"

Eremia said nothing, bating Therapon into having a nervous fit, something he was quite good at doing when telling a tale. Eventually he turned to me. "You tell him, for I fear he will turn to stone should the truth fall from my lips." He winked.

"All right," I said with mock indignity, "I shall be the purveyor of tidings good or ill. Let the fire burn at both ends and we will see how the wick flames at the news."

Therapon interrupted, not at all pleased with our riddling. "I perceive that being long of tooth or rambling in speech to be a disease of the aged, not necessarily the old. Should it storm upon us, would you both deliberate the weather's effects upon you and then hurry for shelter? I think not, for brevity of flight would be beyond the ability of such aged persons."

I bowed politely, acknowledging my villainy, but refused to abandon it. "My Lord, please forgive such an aged person as myself, but I do not recall the subject of our conversation. Allow me to retire until the day's heat has passed. Some leafy shade and a cool drink might well refresh my mind and I may remember on the 'morrow what has delivered us here this day."

Poor Therapon was not up to any more jesting. "Be off with you two! I'll seek the babbling stream outside the city. It will confess to me more sense than you are willing to offer. When I am as old as the distant mountains, then I might find humor in your jousting words. But for now they are little more than annoying chatter like the flapping wings of the locust bugs."

Eremia turned to me, smiling. "Better ante up quick now or there'll be no wick left to measure."

I took Therapon's hand, gently squeezing it. "My Lord and King, please, we are your counselors, but also your mentors. Patience is measured in different ways. We are teaching you that brevity is not always a part of our culture. Games... games to you are the tools of children or something to wile away tiresome hours. To us, games are life and hope... life, in that we are filled with joy at seeing our loved ones smile in sad times... hope, in that one day there will no longer be need for the seriousness this hour heaps upon us."

Therapon, a most wonderful man, apologized for his impatience, something we told him was not necessary. We reassured him that the day was still young and that time would be aplenty for all his questions. I then proceeded to fill him in with what little I knew about this destiny.

"My Lord Therapon, secret has Mother kept the truth about you, and for good reason. Do not think your encounter with that boy was by idle chance. By no means! Mother does not play at those kinds of games. There was very good reason for your steps to cross his. Few are the men of old who have been given a glimpse into the eyes of future children."

Therapon was perplexed. "Are you riddling with me again?"

I waved my hand. "No, not at all. It is the way I speak. For a house to be erected, a foundation must be laid. And for a bridge to be built, a rope must first be tossed across the chasm. Be patient and all my knowledge will become yours."

At this moment, RosMismar's voice interrupted our conversation. "Should you want to continue with torture of the boy or do you desire to see his demise come quickly?"

Turning, surprised, we came to see the prince of the Cherubs standing only feet behind us. I attempted to kneel before his greatness but, reaching out a hand, he stopped me, saying, "Today we become one! Our brotherhood has been sealed by blood and honor. Therapon rides into battle this very eve. Upon each flank, his army follows. If we, the Cherubs, follow behind a man born of flesh in the Realms of Darkness, how can the children born of light be viewed as lesser than he? Clarion, do not call me 'Lord' again!"

I stared into RosMismar's face, collecting my thoughts to make reply. Finally I bowed, answering, "Then honor I shall give to you as chieftain over the Secret House, the same honor due any great leader and purveyor of Mother's glory."

Laughing, RosMismar shook his head. "You always did demand the last word in council. I will surrender to your will, my Lady. But for that, you owe me a journey beyond the stars when my work here is finished."

"Only beyond the stars?" I asked, my eyes twinkling. "It is far less a distance than we have traveled before."

Nodding, RosMismar answered, "For now, my child of delight, for now. Time is still not my servant. To it I must humbly kneel. Soon! Soon we shall countenance more." He glanced over at Therapon. "First I must prepare my brother for the coming hour."

Offering some sparkling refreshment to us all, RosMismar pulled from his cloak four leather flasks, one for each, including himself. After handing them out, he sat down with us and began a tale that not only intrigued Therapon, but made Eremia's and my ears tingle with excitement.

"First," RosMismar wagged his finger, "for the children in the Realms Above and in the Realms Below no word exists of what I am about to speak. And to you, no word is to come from your lips until Shiloh does establish all things new. As Elijah, he shall purify the world of men and, as a confederate of Michael, he shall help bring down the house of his father. Now listen and learn.

"Before the Great Flood, which was delivered upon your world by ZoeStethos' very own hand," he looked at Therapon, "Chrusion became the father of mankind, for Adam was the son, by law and by flesh of Chrusion because Zoe, your mother, removed from Chrusion a seed of genetic life and transferred it into the soul of Adam and he - Adam - came to be a child of the Firstborn. And from Michael's own flesh, Zoe did the same for Eve, mixing her soul with the flesh from the rib of Adam. Thus from the Realms Above did all life come to be, and all earthly flesh came to be in the likeness of both God and the Firstborn of men.

"So to Chrusion did all life in the Lower Realms belong until...until he chose to murder his fellow man by bringing Michael, the Child of Love, down to destruction. Only by a fated hand has she survived until this day. From him...Chrusion... the gift of Firstborn was taken and held in trust by Gabrielle until the one who had the right... Michael...was lifted up to glory after a sacrificial death in the Realms Below.

"Chrusion, though, did not surrender his right as Firstborn, but warred against any who did not recognize him as such. With a sword, he opened the throat of any earthly child refusing to bow to his rulership. From Abel down to Enoch, Chrusion, along with his favored henchmen – Legion being foremost, with Godenn, SalakTaqadam, and BornakStanalious his immediate lieutenants - intimidated and murdered hundreds of Zoe's loyal followers, forcing her to take Enoch to the Field of the Minds before his time, he having been slated for a terrible death in front of all the people.

"In anger, swearing oaths of hatred and damnation against Zoe, Chrusion – now being called 'Asotos' by his opposing brothers – entered into a campaign to defame Zoe by lifting her up to a level of godship yet unknown among the people of Earth, and to make her into a wrathful, villainous god, one to be dreaded and feared. Chrusion proceeded to have altars built to 'Yehowah', the name of God known to the sons of men. There he had offered up sacrifices of human blood, including aborted children and virgins slain in the name of Yehowah.

"It was during this time that the very sons of Zoe appeared as gods in the flesh on the surface of the earth. Led by the aforementioned lieutenants of Chrusion – for Chrusion feared his own demise should he put on the flesh like that of humans, it disabling many of his higher powers – the people were forced to sacrifice to Yehowah upon these altars. Only men of great valor like Enoch were spared the fate of death when refusing to bow before these altars, Chrusion afraid Zoe would strike him with another painful disease such as was done when he sought Enoch's death.

Waving his hand, RosMismar interjected, "I must insert at this time another event. Although occurring many years hence, it is related to this account. Aphrodite Aphosaphahad was a daughter born in the line of Cain by descent through Lamech by her forebears, Jubal, through Adah, first wife of Lamech... and Naamah, daughter of Lamech's second wife, Zillah. Through the seeds of this man, Lamech, and his two wives, the majesty of Chrusion ran strong. So it was in great anger Chrusion erupted when Aphrodite refused to bend a knee to his officers and perform an act of worship to him.

"A sentence of death was cast by lot - but truly by mischief - upon the young woman still but a teen, she being delivered up to the altar of Yehowah to be raped and slowly bled, her body then to be cut apart and placed upon that altar and burned, to ascend to Yehowah as a refreshing odor to God.

"But Aphrodite did not die nor was she violated, but a virgin she stayed. A fire from heaven swept down upon the men carrying the child to her death while she remained standing, alive, in the flames until her bonds were burned away. The young woman then walked through the parted crowd, unscathed by the fire, and returned to her house.

"Upon hearing the account of this brave child, Noah, a man of many years and a widower just free of mourning, traveled with his elder sons many days to the land of Nod. After paying a price of seven bulls and twelve he-goats, along with much gold and incense - for the family of Aphrodite, although hating the girl, was very greedy - Noah took Aphrodite for a wife and as later generations believed, had three sons by her, namely Ham, Shem, and Japheth. Truth be told, Ham was the son of Naamah (not to be confused with Naamah, Zillah's daughter), she dying during his birth. Aphrodite birthed for Noah two sons, Shem and Japheth and a daughter, Sumiduu, later taken as wife by Ham. These three men, along with Noah's and Aphrodite's daughter and two cousins of Aphrodite, became the ancestors of all living men."

RosMismar smiled, looking at Therapon. "Aphrodite was not out of her teens when she became pregnant, giving birth first to Japheth, one year later to Shem, and two more years for Sumiduu. The tales told from Noah's day forward say no more children did she bear, for it was rumored in her last labor a rupture in her belly she bore, forcing the doctors of her day to remove her reproductive parts.

"But Aphrodite lived far into the post-Diluvian age...does live. She it was who personally journeyed into the wilderness, delivering into Moses' hand the accounts of your genesis. She it was, through Serah's mouth, who warned Moses concerning all the nations round about, the sons of Abraham and Isaac, to bring no harm to them. She, Moses called the 'spirit of God'. Never did this woman see corruption, for tales were told that like Enoch, in her nine-hundred and forty-eighth year, it has been said Zoe took her, she still appearing as fresh as a young maiden." Rosmismar winked. "But tales are often told to deceive. It was this Aphrodite, mother of all men living, who became the mother goddess of Egypt and many other nations, she living so long that later generations believed her to be a goddess. Indeed, she never died at all."

Surprised, Therapon began to ask more about Aphrodite

RosMismar hushed him. "Though not saved in your sacred writings, Moses did write a detailed account of this woman. Given to one of his sons, it eventually made its way to the library of Alexandria where for many generations the aforementioned accounts along with many of the others done by this woman, from the casting out of Hormax, the first of the seed of the 'Historunien Warlocks' to the preservation of Hagar and Ishmael in the desert were protected from the fates of time. But alas, Chrusion brought it all to naught when he burned the library in a jealous rage."

Standing and stretching, RosMismar scanned the horizon. "Even now she rides the comets, guarding the worlds of men."

Treston asked, bewildered, "How is that so?"

Rosmismar smiled, "You will have to ask her yourself." He refused to speak another word about it. Sitting back down, he offered to continue. "Allow me to return to my account and you will see that I have not taken you too far afield.

"In time, Chrusion's henchmen built great cities up around these altar locations. Although Zoe's name continued to be slandered among the people, a start was made at creating a false history of the universe, a history so deeply ingrained in the people that it still lingers to this day in the Realms Below. Indeed, even the faithful men of later days were unable to shake the falsehoods from their minds, so much so that Zoe was eventually forced to use some of those concepts in describing Heaven, for the reality had become something so unbelievable, her own earthly children refused to accept it.

"These cities also became centers of learning, where the most gifted of men came to study the secrets of the universe and of the new divination, uncanny powers for worshipers of the Father-God, Chrusion. Contrary to the personality of Zoe, who has always been honest and forthright, Chrusion falsely presented himself as the benevolent guardian and protector of the people, giving gifts of knowledge and wisdom while always feigning the role of victim in Heaven's struggle. This ruse was perpetrated by his lieutenants' trickery.

"On festival days to Yehowah, some of the sons of Zoe and their demented children, the sons of abomination - the hybrid offspring of women they impregnated - would go out among the people of the earth, demanding gifts and women to offer up to the all loving God, Yehowah. After maiming and killing, they would leave off for another village to do the same. Their human prisoners they would take to the altars for sacrifice and for their personal pleasure.

"Sometime later, not wanting to severely interfere with any fun their brothers were having, a contingent of holy knights called 'Historunien Templorenie' meaning 'for the sake of purity and grace go I', would sally forth from Chrusion's citadels to bring to justice these evil men of Yehowah's and wrest their booty from them, returning it to the people of the land. Thus the land became ruined before the face of all men and the name 'Yehowah' became foul-smelling among all the people. So it was with fear the men of the earth worshipped Yehowah, but with praise and goodwill they honored Chrusion and his angels.

"Legion eventually devised an easily identifiable pattern for all of Chrusion's citadels, places of protection against the raging hordes of Yehowah's Nephilim, Fellers of destruction. Each was built in the shape of a pyramid, being four square and as tall as it was long. From MusolEgypt to the land of Eden and beyond, even to the valley of Drissamore, later known as the 'plains of Shinar', many cities were built."

He lifted a hand. "To this day, the city of Drissamore does still exist, buried hundreds of feet beneath the surface of the Shinar plain. On that same plain rests the rebuilt Great Tower of which I will speak later. The pre-flood Drissamore is the reason for the location of the later city, Babylon. That, too, I shall speak of later.

"To these citadels, all earthling men could flee and so were held in safety from these Fellers. Eventually a large population of earthling men gathered to these citadels, forcing the cities to ever grow in size and grandeur. In the years just preceding the Deluge, worldly knowledge mixed with new divination to the point where these taught men would brag, 'Is there nothing unattainable for us?!' to which Zoe declared, 'To one hundred and twenty years shall be the life of men!'

"When Noah was informed of Zoe's declaration some seventy years later, he went to the men of his village, his family, and all the surrounding areas, telling them of what he had learned. This was done in hopes that, if the men of the land repented, Zoe would hold back and not bring Earth to ruin, he not knowing she had other reasons for such a watery conflagration. Although the men of the earth refused to heed Noah's counsel, there were other ears listening and they did pay heed.

"Into the citadels, cities of Chrusion, servants of the Historunien Templorenie secretly gathered vast amounts of supplies, hoping to ride out the coming Deluge in the deep chambers of these huge temple constructions or laboratories. Along with them were brought books and writings that heralded the achievements of men and sorcerers, including the wondrous acts of Chrusion versus the wicked atrocities of Yehowah. There were others of these servants who sought protection from the coming Deluge by making their homes in the giant merchant ships of the day. But the schemes of all these men came to naught.

"The Great Deluge brought a ruin to these cities, burying them under eternal mountains or far beneath the seas. That is, all save one..."

RosMismar tipped his head back, emptying the refreshing contents from the leather flask. "Ah!" he grinned, "Shall I finish this account or do you desire to lunch with me first?"

What can I say? Although Eremia and I knew well the history of events of which this Cherub spoke, he filled in so many details so that we, too, felt as if the account was new to our ears. We all, Therapon included, urged RosMismar to finish, or at least bring this part of his telling to a close.

Smiling, he answered, "I shall bring you all to the Great Tower. Then we shall break for lunch.

"After the waters had long receded from off the land, the number of children began to grow rapidly. Noah and his family spoke often of the earlier days, filling the hearts of his offspring with the want of adventure. One after another, singly or more often in groups, the children wandered off to explore this new land.

"Among those early travelers were two cousins, Canaan and the younger Hormax of whom I earlier spoke. To the south and west these men journeyed, along with a host of relatives, skirting a great sea until coming to a wide, fertile delta and a river that flowed in from the south. Some of the travelers remained behind, choosing to reside among the lush greenery and rich marshes of this delta land. Others, including Canaan and Hormax, chose to follow the river to hidden lands beyond.

"At this time the land beyond the delta was rich in jungle growth, it being well watered by friendly breezes that drifted over vast lakes far to the west. As the adventurers continued south, they eventually came upon ruins of a pre-Flood city, one Noah had warned his children about. Little remained that could distinguish the piles of rubble, other than some stone statues disfigured by the Flood's tempest and some strange shapes, now little more than stony mounds. Taking no heed of Noah's warnings should one find such a place, the group established a camp on that very site.

"Only Seba, Nubia and Havilah along with their wives and children listened to Noah's voice, abandoning the ruins and passing along, in time discovering an immense lake high above a deep valley. There they established themselves, their daughters gaining renown as the most beautiful of womankind. 'Black as an Onyx night' it was said of these people. As rumor of these women spread, men from most distant lands journeyed there to take wives for themselves. Many of these men then, did not return home but, along with their new wives, traveled south beyond the lake, eventually filling the land with dark-skinned mankind.

"Canaan being the oldest of the people made himself chieftain over those remaining with him and set them to clearing the mounds, in search of any relics that might still remain hidden from before the Flood. After many days of slavish labor, about the time the others were nearing rebellion, Hormax discovered a tiny entrance choked with mud. Working their way up the low tunnel, clearing out the debris as they went, Hormax and his fellow workers found a door, sealed tight.

"With a great deal of effort, the men broke through the tunnel to discover a dry chamber beyond. Much to their surprise and great joy, they found mountains of writings, carved and painted pictures, maps, tools and strange objects, as well as mummified bodies of men and women, some as tall as nine feet when alive.

"Canaan quickly seized on these discoveries to squelch the rebellious talk, and for many months succeeded at keeping the people in check. During this time, he and Hormax immersed themselves in examining the things found and deciphering the strange runes on many of the writings. Being hidden by the servants of the Historunien Templorenie and not the Historunien Templorenie themselves, there were many clues to what the runes really meant. Gradually, the pre-history of the Deluge as told by Chrusion's henchmen unfolded before the peoples' eyes.

"Gaining knowledge extraordinaire of the 'workings before time,' as the antediluvian age came to be called in those days, Hormax began to invoke the god-men who, according to the surviving servants writing in the fading lamplight of the submerged temple, had abandoned their earthly bodies in an attempt to escape the raging waters. In time, his efforts led to success.

"Training himself to tune his mind to certain harmonics, he did make some sort of contact. Through visions and dreams, he began to entertain as guests some of Zoe's fallen children. But it came with a price. To retain the gift of visions, Hormax had to debase himself yet further and further until he, too, turned to eating the human flesh off Chrusion's altar. It was he who introduced Canaan to the pleasures of a male lying with a male, making Canaan a slave to the wiles of men.

"Zoe's anger eventually grew hot against the camp of Canaan, drying up the Eden-like garden, slowly turning it to desert. Canaan finally abandoned his newly founded colony, trekking back to the home of his birth. There he took to spreading his perversions. The man eventually became an outcast among his own peers because of the things he practiced.

"In time, Canaan returned to MusolEgypt, only to find it empty of its inhabitants. Disillusioned with his unhappy lot in life, he traveled into the eastern mountains, a wanderer, cursed among men. His children gradually left off following him in his travels, establishing themselves as far west as Egypt's western desert and north to the Fertile Crescent. It was in Mizpah where he had finally settled that he was murdered by Zerioir, a great great-grandson of Japheth, for the violation of his oldest son.

Gesturing, RosMismar added, "So polluted did Canaan make that city and the surrounding lands that even the sons of Benjamin could not escape his evil. They, too, fell by the sword for their atrocities, being left with but six-hundred men of them, the women and children all slaughtered.

"Now, for Hormax..." RosMismar lifted a hand, extending a finger. "Hormax, too, returned to the home of his birth, but only after he had seen all of Canaan's works come to naught. With a small remnant of like-minded wizards and their families, he took up residence in Carchemish, making it for a time the divination capital of the world. He had also brought along all the works found in Musol-Egypt's ruins, depositing them in a temple he erected there. The worship of Chrusion and various lieutenants became firmly established, for a time Hormax calling it 'New MusolEgypt'.

"It was in the second decade of his occupancy of Carchemish that an outcry of disgust regarding this man reached the ears of Aphrodite, the wife of Noah. In spirit and power, she traveled to Carchemish in search of this man, Hormax. Upon finding him, she leveled a curse against him, damning him and his sons to the tenth generation. Immediately the man was struck with leprosy and he was driven out from among the city inhabitants.

"This did not stop Hormax' new religion. For one thing, it was already too ingrained in the hearts of many men, Nimrod being one. Even Aphrodite's efforts to extinguish the man's evil were thwarted. Hormax' followers hid from her many of the sacred works brought to Carchemish, eventually delivering them to Hormax on the Plains of Shinar. By the time the sons of Cush arrived upon the valley plain, a small colony of Historunien Warlocks were already dwelling there.

"Hormax helped Nimrod through deceit, treachery, and murder to establish himself as leader over the people. Then, with the assistance of the new king, he began a building project directly over the center of the buried city of Drissamore. It was not for the preservation of people that the Tower of Babel was designed, but to keep safe the sacred works of the past and any new ones that might be added to it. That is why the bitumen was so vital to the construction.

"When the exploits of Nimrod, his invasions, murders and other corruptions, were made known to Aphrodite, she fell down in an ash heap and wept for thirty days, taking neither food nor drink. With shorn head, she cried out to Zoe to listen to her cries for mercy so that Zoe would not come again and bring the earth to nothing. Zoe listened to Aphrodite and, lifting her up, gave the woman power beyond what was normal so that with her skirt girded around her loins, she ran like horses day and night some four hundred leagues from her home to Babel. There, on the night of the fifteenth of Heshvan, the middle of the month, she first laid sight on the 'disgusting thing that brings desolation upon all the land'.

"This woman, after loosening her skirt, walked into the city, wailing so that all the people came out of their homes to see what the matter was. To the very base of the yet uncompleted tower she strode. There, in the midst of the gathered crowd, she lifted her arms toward the heavens, crying out, 'To the gods of darkness and the great horned demons let this people fall! And make all mankind blind in speech so that no man will understand the words of his fellow! And bring down the house of Satan to the Fields of Low Shadow, and in hollows of dark places let his children lurk until God's own child brings the light! For all mankind is wicked from his birth onward, so he must not see wisdom or truth, for then there will be nothing he can not attain to doing!'

"And we, the children of Zoe, the first of all living beings, listened to the voice of our sister and went down to Babel, to deliver upon it all the curses which our sister spoke.

"And the earth began to shake violently, awakening the spirits of all those slain by the waters, from the great city of MusolEgypt to the dungeons of Drissamore and all the cities buried beneath the seas. And we cried out to the spirits of those slain, commanding, 'Redeem yourselves for the wickedness you have committed against our God, so that you may preserve alive the children of wrath! Take upon yourselves these bodies of winged serpents and change the hearts of reasoning men to that of confused beasts!

"And the children of Low Shadow did rise up, seeking redemption for all their wicked deeds done in the name of our God. And they put on the bodies of winged serpents and sallied forth into the darkness, filling all the world with dread. With a howling, they covered the entire earth, from all the lands in the east to all the peoples beyond the Nile. For forty days and nights the plague of the winged serpents swept over all mankind until all men except a few from the sons of Japheth and some others spoke no more the language of Children Before Time.

"Hormax, along with Nimrod and a few close confederates hid themselves deep within the walls of the tower, secreted behind stone doors in dark chambers. There they remained, protected by Chrusion's spirit, a force greater than the winged serpents who delivered God's wrath upon the people. We chose not to bring this rabble down but allowed them to remain as a test upon all mankind for we saw the designs of these wicked men. So it was that after the scourge had passed that Hormax and the others returned from the darkness, unchanged in mind or spirit.

"Upon their exiting the bowels of the tower, they were confronted by Aphrodite, who called down the evil of God upon each and every man in the group. And when she came to Hormax, her words were as harsh as her mood was foul. 'To you, oh foolish man, lost to the ways of a condemned host, I give you the language of the dead. And as the dead speak you, yourself, shall also speak. No more will words proceed from your mouth, but in silence you will live, talking in signs and dead men's symbols.

"A seed you have become for the raven and the crow, but also one of light, for from within your own inward parts shall a dark serpent rise, son of the Wicked One. But he shall use his darkness to bring down the house of Satan and all the glorious things you hold so dear. And he shall make the world of men tremble and quake, using your own magical arts against them!'"

With that, RosMismar became quiet. He refused to speak more of the matter until we had all taken some refreshment. We finally surrendered to his will, suffering a most wonderful repast made by his own hands.

Clarion continues her account with RosMismar's focus upon Treston's destiny concerning Sirion. Although pivotal for our understanding of coming events, it deals more directly with Treston's bloodline and the reasons for his selection as Sirion's rescuer, leaving many gaps to fill regarding the seeds of Chrusion and Lowenah.

I have included an addendum at the end of this chapter that attempts to encapsulate this history from the days after Babel down to the day of the seeds' revealing. It is a very brief account.

_For an exhaustive commentary, including Clarion's detailed telling of Treston's history, Tehilla LebRanan's four volume chronicles,_ _Bloodwind – Seeds of Myth and Glory_ _and Haudenosaunez's_ _Cry of the Eagle Spirits_ _will enlighten the soul._

For now, I will only summarize the afternoon's conversation, leaving the full account for another time. What is most important for the reader to understand is that Treston was selected for the approaching task not only because he was well qualified but, more importantly, he carried the legal credentials as a son of Asotos.

Having finished their luncheon, RosMismar invited the party to recline under a nearby giant oak tree. Its boughs extended well past fifty cubits from its massive trunk, creating a refreshing shadow world away from the afternoon sun. As a soft, cooling breeze rustled the leaves, this Cherub, master of the tale, went on with his account. At length, he had made summary of Therapon's lineage, presenting Treston with a startling surprise at its conclusion.

"Through the Historunien Warlocks, Hormax' descendants kept alive Chrusion's bloodline. They rarely chose the wealthy and famous for this task, it being difficult at best controlling the destiny of such people. The common people were easier subjects for their intrigues, for all the obvious reasons that existed up through your day and beyond. So now we come down to it.

"As a child, your great-grandfather, Hermiphpertes Tailmitt, was selected to become a forebear of Chrusion's coming seed, the child who would turn the world back to worshiping him. He was nurtured by the Gray Hearts, being adopted into their fraternity shortly after the mysterious death of his parents. By the age of thirty, he was lifted up to the Second House, the House of the White Warlocks, eventually sitting among the eighteen leaders on the council."

Treston interrupted with surprise, "I know nothing of what you tell me! They said my great-grandfather was of modest means, a quiet miller."

RosMismar winked. "Allow me to go on. There are many things I will tell you that will make your ears tingle. Listen and learn.

"Hermiphpertes, knowing of his destiny, selected a woman from the family of Tailberts for his bride, the Tailberts being descendants of Machial Porcinifent, daughter by rape and plunder of Zojecten the Terrible. The woman bore him four sons, each mightier than the last, so that he chose your great-grandfather to carry on the promised seed. In the straits of time your great-grandfather was lifted up to serve in the House of the Gray Hearts. Hermiphpertes had but one son...your grandfather.

"Now, your grandfather's wife had but two sons, both of pure blood, but neither of much value to anyone, being absolutely good for nothing. He also had a daughter, named 'Jamininia'. Out of desperation, so as not to lose the privileged lineage, he fathered another son through her, thus keeping the seed in his family. Jamininia - not the woman confessed to you - was your grandmother."

Treston was shocked and dismayed. Before he could speak, RosMismar grinned wryly, confirming, "Yes, the woman who seduced you on the summer eve of your fourteenth birthday was not only your father's sister, but was also your very own grandmother."

RosMismar brushed aside Treston's sudden unease and embarrassment. "Does a king keep secrets from his loyal subjects and expect to keep their trust? You, Therapon, shall be no such king. Indeed! All the rulers who stand the throne of God shall have no veils to hide their deeds behind, but shall stand naked in front of all the people for all eternity." He waved his hand. "Ask me not what I mean. On with my account...

"Your father was a man wild in spirit and shrewd in business. Although never qualifying to be introduced into one of the three houses, he was accepted by the leadership to become a progenitor of Chrusion's seed. Through the prostitute, Sabitinea, a Hormaxian witch...your mother...he produced two sons, you and your brother Zeus. Zeus was chosen to become the next in line to father the seed, but, by a fate of chance – really Zoe's dabbling – you became that progenitor."

"It could not be through me!" Treston exclaimed. "My only child died in my arms at but ten tender years. She never came near a man, she being only a little maiden."

Laughing, RosMismar shook his head. "Countless are the descendants of your brattle that run upon the surface of the earth at this very moment. Many a child you fathered all across the Roman plain. Truth be told, few were the villages between Smyrna and Ephesus that did not have at least one little critter with your blood. Yet it is not one of these nameless children of whom I speak. Listen and I will give you knowledge.

"You little recall the night before your departure with the army to go on the winter sojourn to the north because too drunk with the wine were you. Well, as I recall, for I was observing closely at that time, you and Zeus got into a drinking bout at the evening festivities, he passing out and you nearly so. It was late into the night when you brought Zeus to his room. Zeus collapsed on the bed, you falling over him and into the arms of his wife, Pauline.

"That woman, being in desperate straits, realizing the last night to be spent with her husband for many months was to be without affection, gathered you into her arms and spent the waning hours until morn in your company, you being too drunk to remember the event. Zeus' death in battle that winter was most bitter for everyone in the family. Pauline pined away for him, convincing herself that you were really him that night and that the wine had made her dream it was you. No one ever found out the truth. Even the Historunien Warlocks never knew.

"After the birth of Hermes, the son of Pauline and supposedly Zeus, you became little more than a footnote in your grandfather's life. You remained another six years with your father in the legions before he retired to a more quiet life of inn and brothel keeper, after which you took up with Governor Claudesius, settling down with your young wife in Ephesus. Pauline later remarried, birthing several more children for her new husband, and Hermes, being the son of another man, left home at ten, apprenticing in the silver craft until he had grown into a talented silversmith, gaining somewhat of a local reputation for his metal work."

Lifting a hand, RosMismar changed the subject. "Allow me this small intrusion. It will do you well to know this in coming days. The descendants of Hermes – your descendants – were often noted warriors, praised for their courage and military prowess. One such man exists outside these gates, holding a charge over part of the army facing Memphis." RosMismar rolled his eyes. "Excellent general, but his 'Praise the Lord' prattle drives many of his fellow officers to tears. He'll learn." He paused and smiled. "And another rides this day on wings of eagles into the glory of a hero's welcome." He said no more of the matter.

"Now, my friend and brother, I present you with a most startling truth." RosMismar patted Treston's shoulder. "The dark seed, Asotos' supreme creation to rule all the world of men, is descended through your son Hermes and walks about in the shadows of the Lower Realms as I speak."

"No!" Treston cried, "Tell me that you jest when saying that Desmond, the coming Lord of Darkness, the son of the Devil, is an offspring of mine!"

RosMismar shrugged. "Lord of Darkness or Lord of Light? Shall I say to you when it is something even I cannot yet tell? But your Lowenah, my Zoe, feels it will be the latter. She places the fate of all mortal life on your seed's loyalty to her. Shall she be proved right? You believed it to be so when you observed the boy."

"Who!? What!?" Treston stumbled and stuttered for words to convey his total confusion. At last he blurted out, "There is but one child I have studied in the world of men. But him?" Suddenly pieces of the puzzle, all of the things he had been told this day and all the previous days since his arrival in the First Realm fell together. "Ava!? 'Black and white, evil and good, so shall my seed wield the magic of the darkness to shatter the night and bring glory to the day. By the serpent shall the serpent be eaten and by the fire shall the fire be consumed.'"

Smiling, RosMismar added, "So it is that a child of evil blood must enter the evil land to bring down what is vile by use of a vile sword."

Treston sadly nodded in return. "Sirion is my charge. She fears no man but one. It is him or one she thinks is him who must enter her hidden world to free her of the demons within. Yet she must think the madman, himself, is plundering all that is hers or the monsters beyond the river will not release their hold on her soul and gather to their awaited god."

"Your wisdom shines with the insight of Immortals," RosMismar answered.

For the first time, Treston had seen what he called 'manly emotion' in a Cherub. In fact, if for but a moment, one might guess he could see tears well in RosMismar's eyes.

Taking hold of Treston's arm, RosMismar asked, impassioned, "Will my brother risk the lands that as you say 'lie beyond the river' to return the future to all living things? For on this one eve shall all that is beautiful be judged for life or death. One must risk it all on this only chance for success of ridding evil from eternal lands hidden deep in the Web of the Minds. Will you journey there to rescue our child?"

Treston's face hardened with furrowed brow, his eyes sparkling with a yearning for war. "Is it not the howling of the fanged beast that freezes the blood in the veins of brave men? And is it not the glistening grin of those fangs on a moonless night that sends them into flight? A beast is what I shall become if that is what Hope requests of me, to save this woman I not only carry in my trust but also so deeply love. If I fail, it will not be by cowardess or lack of will, for I will journey Hades' road and take the River and all the madness that lies beyond or I shall not return in the attempt."

RosMismar grinned, a tear rolling down his cheek. "You do not stand alone in this matter for the sire of the one who became Satan and all his kingdom rides beside you this night. But first you, the fanged beast, must get us across the river and into the wasted lands."

* * *

Feverish shivers raced up and down Treston's spine as he neared the inner chamber where Sirion was imprisoned. His muscles ached with nervous tension as beads of sweat grew on his bare flesh, chilling him all the more. Just beyond the door lay his and all the worlds' destiny, but in his mind he could only see the face of a most wonderful woman already out of her mind with terror from the hallucinatory drugs administered by RosMismar.

Rape! The very thought of performing such an act made Treston sick to his stomach. He leaned a hand against the wall, shaking his head. It was not that long ago, at least by his reckoning that rape, especially of a maiden, was a favorite sport of his. Many a child in the Northlands had shared his embrace, one that often left them bereft also of breath and life. Oh, how much the man had changed, tearing away from his soul all such evil and burying it in a much deserved death, now only to find such an evil past was the key to providing any hope for the future.

"It is not rape, my friend Therapon, but only that which appears for the moment to be. Sirion shall remember the hour and the event as only a bad dream from which she awakes to find her lover snuggling closely in the bed."

Treston shook his head again, remembering RosMismar's words. He hoped beyond hope the Cherub was truthing him and not playing riddles with his mind. "There is no other way or we, the fathers of these children, would have followed it. Tonight you must become the creator of the demons hiding within the girl. You must appear to be the God of Darkness."

There was no question in Treston's heart concerning his ability to carry out the Cherub's wishes, binding his soul with Sirion's in a powerful dream share. Since entering this enchanted city, his mind had been gaining in power, its ability to subdue another's only an untested fact. And the other, his ability to physically bond for the length of time such a mind share might take? Clarion had taken care of that this very eve with her teasing songs and kisses, leaving the man in a state of explosive desire. Should the world's ending ride upon the emancipation of this passion then let it end!

' _Cor·tong! Cor·tong! Cor·tong!'_ Sounds from the city's clock tower reverberated in Treston's ears. Or did he feel it through the thick stone walls of this room deep under the Cherubs' cathedral, the place where Clarion had visited JabethHull a few nights before? Long had the bells of the tower been silent, waiting for this hour when the planets would align for the Grand New Moon, a time when the entire universe would be judged by the fate of one man. It was rumored that the tower had its very roots anchored in the core of MueoPoros. Well was it so, at least to Treston's reckoning, feeling the walls and floor tremble at the clock's tolling.

The hour had come. He leaned away from the wall, opening a vial filled with a blue-green, florescent liquid, tipped his head back, drinking it down.

Treston remembered little of the events that followed until he stood upon the torn and blistered plain. Sirion's petrifying fear, her muted screams and whimpering pleas for Chrusion not to hurt her were all he could recall as his eyes scoured the smoldering fields of tortured rocks and distant firestorms.

'The worlds beyond this are the true reality. The world of the minds is but the bridge to the lands that lie far from a mortal's sight.' So echoed Clarion's words in Treston's ears. 'What you will see this night is only what you think you see. The brain will interpret the living energy produced by Sirion's mind as things familiar to you. A land torn and ruined is most likely what you will see, one possibly filled with fiery storms and hideous monsters. Do not worry, for that is not reality but only images of the energy produced by fear and torment. Still, be alert and vigilant, the land to which you journey is a dangerous and tricksy place. It is a land filled with little hope...save you.'

Now it started to make sense in Treston's head. What he was really seeing were the results of energy when it fell into discord. Should this form of darkness grow, it would eventually overcome all harmonic energy, it being of greater strength because of its very nature. Once the harmonic energy was dispossessed by this discord, the entire universe would fall into chaos. The last living memory all intelligent mortals would see before dissolving into nothingness would be such a torn and twisted world as stood before him now.

The pounding of his heart eased as Treston surveyed his tormented surroundings. He saw no demons or wild beast-men nor any living thing other than himself. But the feeling of ever-searching eyes studying him was all very evident. Strange...this world of angry desolation and violence did not chill his heart. No, to say the least, this man of evil past was gradually becoming comfortable with the discord crashing in upon this place. Indeed, as he breathed in the warped energy created by Sirion's terror, there grew within him an exhilaration of joyful emotion, filling the man with strength and power.

Hunger! The discord flooding over Treston only made him hungrier for more... ever more. He violently tore at the helpless creature bound in his embrace, digging fingernails deep into Sirion's back while increasing his violent act upon her, all to heighten her musical discord. He could hear his own laughter, so very far away at the moment, as the girl screamed for mercy.

(Author's note: _Truth be told, with both Sirion and Treston in such a drug-induced state, little physical harm was being done. The Cherubs had not only heightened the senses in both people, they had also sapped Treston's strength with added medicine. It was like RosMismar said, 'The reality need only be perceived, for if one can convince himself, he will convince his opponent as well._ ')

Suddenly, the sealed gates of Treston's sordid past burst open, sending a raging river of heated passion through the man's soul. The burnt and twisted universe around him gradually faded away, replaced with a sweet scent of honeysuckle and gentle breezes. Inhaling the herbal fragrance, his nostrils flaring, the man took note that he was now standing in a world of fanciful delights. A dark blue sky filled with fluffy white clouds danced to and fro above tall, snowcapped mountains. Songs of merry birds fell upon his ears along with the antics of strange and exotic creatures scurrying through tall grasses. A most beautiful place, indeed! No wonder Asotos and his servants sought so diligently the suffering of others! What wonderful bliss must they experience when working their victims with such practiced skills!

Moments passed quickly... or did time, itself, stand still? There was no way for Treston to tell. The world hidden within the stone chamber far beneath the Cherubs' cathedral was now little more than a distant memory. Sirion's cries and whimpers could not be heard here, only the music those fits of passionate terror created. Yet this music was not new. No! Long ago he had listened to this music when he brought such agony upon the helpless children of his day, except then it was oh so faint, almost imperceptible in his mind.

So, this was the ecstasy of discord... this, the reason for the needless violence in his troubled world of old. Now he understood. Men preyed upon the weak and helpless, violated the innocent not for power, glory or fame. No! It was for this elusive world secreted far from a mortal human's mind, just out of reach. Yet one could taste its presence if they pushed past all morality in search of this Shangri-La that existed beyond all decency.

Here it was - the secret of the greatest sin that damned one's soul and mind to eternal darkness. When a person surrendered to the will of discord, his soul could not escape the constant craving of a corrupted heart as it incessantly tore at the mind to give back to it the passion of lost love by finding twisted joy from another's pain and suffering. Once the spark of harmonic love was fully extinguished, there could be no returning from the Black Abyss, Tartarus, the pit of everlasting darkness. Treston shuddered, wondering just how close he had come to losing that final spark.

A quiet hissing noise interrupted any further pondering. White vapors began oozing up through the soil, thick and heavy, so that they spewed forth like a living fog, hugging the ground as they curled and twisted into gaseous columns of opaque, gray shadows, pushing ever higher. With slow deliberateness these frothing clouds spiraled upward, taking on the form of living creatures yet hiding their appearance in their own gloom. One and then another and another lifted itself in stature until well over two dozen pillars stood scattered about in the field.

Treston watched, silently amazed at the spectacle unfolding about him. He said not a word nor did he permit his countenance to falter. Might these not be the very beasts the King of Darkness had been searching for? Then let it be. The man steeled himself for whatever hideous visions might lie cloaked in the mist. Yet nothing could have prepared him for what was soon unveiled before his eyes.

The fog began to fall away like layers of silky shrouds, drifting off in a gentle breeze just newly arrived. Well staged had this performance been, planned no doubt for a very long time. These creatures had been expecting this day and were practiced for its arrival. There was a teasing in the way they were revealing themselves to Treston, as if each was in some sort of a competition with the other to portray itself as the most deserving or appealing to the one arrived. At last, as if on cue, the final layer of secretiveness fell away, casting the creatures' naked radiance before their newly come savior.

"My Lord..." The creature standing directly before Treston sensuously bowed, bending at the knees and gracefully sweeping its arms outward. Then, before the stunned Treston, the others followed in similar fashion.

Treston worked quickly to regain his composure, but the creature before him, apparently the leader, noticed and smiled. "Do we please our lord and king, the one sent to relieve us from this Gehenna? Many have been the days of our servitude, waiting in filth to be relieved from such a living wasteland."

Attempting to catch his breath, Treston muttered through quivering lips, "Doronea!"

The creature's mouth broke into a wide grin. "She has pleasured you much, I see. Look! I can do even better, for my shrieks and wails can chill even hearts of stone."

'The mind is filled with the world of illusion. What you believe to be the reality of matters is but a wisp of wishful thinking, like the dream of romance in a young maiden's heart.' Clarion's statement drifted through the back of Treston's thoughts. Had it not been for her deft proverbs, the man doubted his wits would have remained with him.

Doronea, in her most radiant beauty, every detail of her appearance more splendid than he had remembered, gazed up into his eyes, pleading with longing as she had so passionately done in the distant past for the man she pined for, to have him gather her up in his arms and consume her with his manliness. "Oh, but for the touch of your hand on my flesh..." Her eyes begged for his caress, her breasts offered for a feast as she bowed low. "One touch, my Lord, just one touch..."

Treston's heart reeled with agony at seeing this lost lover while his stomach tightened with unease at the vile words the creature had spoken. But she was so perfect and he had mourned her gone so very, very long. Involuntarily, his hand began to move.

"Do you see only this one object of prurience!?" A voice to Treston's right drew his attention away from the creature before him.

"Alynnou!" The word had barely escaped his lips when another voice called out and then another until the field was filled with the alluring chatter of dozens of cooing voices, each vying for Treston's attention.

All the sensual noise helped break the spell first cast over Treston. How beautiful in form these lovely creatures were drawn in likeness to those he so fondly remembered. Women from the past, little more than shadowy memories in his thoughts, but so vividly real to his eyes, crooned songs of passion and desire for his ears. Some swayed to and fro to a silent tune, while others began to tease him with arousing acts and moves. If not for their icy breaths his spirit could see on the heated breeze, he might well have fallen under their hypnotic spells.

Treston's soul began to be troubled with doubt. These creations...Asotos' twisted inventions had to have searched his mind in order to take on the shapes of lovers past and present. He doubted that he, alone, was generating such fantasies with his own thoughts because these things had responded with knowledge to the names he had spoken. How much, then, did they really know about him? Did they recall his previous dream shares with Sirion? Was this only a pretense on their part, a way to seduce him into surrendering his soul to them also? So many questions and only his wits and wisdom to find the answers...

"Welcome, Treston from the Realms Below." A creature in the form of Gefen's duty officer, bereft of uniform, stepped out from behind Alynnou, her eyes dancing with merriment.

Shocked, Treston asked, afraid of the answer, "Azriela!? You know me!?"

The creature stepped forward, standing close so that her chill breath drifted across his face. "So, is it really come to pass the words of our Creator that all the lands below the sky reside under his protection now? It is good news, is it not? You he has sent to us to prove it to be so, is it not true?"

Treston's head spun with more questions than answers. How did these creatures know about his old world? The Creator? It must be Asotos. How intelligent were these creatures? How much of an individual personality did each one have? Wasn't Lowenah the only Creator of life? Had he been sent on a fool's errand or was he just possibly being tested to fitness and only in some mind machine by himself? 'No' to that last question... He trusted the Cherubs and their Seraphs would not do such a cruel and heartless thing to him. Then what must he do?

Treston resigned himself to playing a very dangerous game. Carefully studying Azriela's face, he could see it filled with lust not love. Lust for power, glory, and...and something else, very subtle, but it was still there. He had seen it before, in the eyes of weary soldiers after long campaigning, in the eyes of inmates held many days in the prison hole, in the eyes of slaves dressed in their finery at the governor's banquets...the passion to escape their present state, to get freedom of release from a real or imagined bondage. This creature was tired of a host filled with emotions they not only lacked but also painfully loathed. Sirion was for these creatures a living house of torment.

A look of suspicion flashed across the creature's face, but just as quickly it was covered over. This Azriela creature stared into Treston's eyes, smiling but searching.

Was it his years of constant military prowess that alerted him to trouble or possibly the secret powers given him in his rebirth? Treston pondered little from where the awareness came. He was certain that he had made a major mistake of some kind and had better fix it fast or else all would fail.

Treston's face clouded in anger, threatening the creature with violence, following up with a torrent of vile curses better left in the underworld. The creature fell back, cowering before Treston. He stepped forward, shouting defiantly, "Who among you wish for the curse that is to befall this worthless scum who dares examine me!? Its fate is to remain forever entombed in a sleeping mind that has had all life squeezed from its body. Who dares question the king over the darkness as he carries out his mission for the Lord of the Flies, king and god to all this kingdom!?"

A howling rent the air as dozens of voices cried out in anguish. Many of these creatures fell to the ground, acting more like beaten dogs begging for mercy. How strange, how strange! What was this all about?

Fear! Fear! In less time than it takes to say the word, Treston understood. Asotos' inventions were given life long after he had forgotten love. But how would he keep his creation in line? Love and devotion are very powerful tools for a psychopath the likes of Asotos, yet love and devotion must be the inherent possession of the creature being controlled, they being the unreachable conditions of the heart not a creation. But fear? That's a creation given by Lowenah to her children and beasts of the field as a protection against making rash and dangerous decisions. Even with all love gone from his heart, Asotos would understand fear all too well and how to use it.

Treston was the current god over these beasts of warped invention. He could dictate either life or death for them and they knew it. There was no other choice but to use their fear to bring them to destruction.

At that same time Treston could not help but feel pity for these monstrosities of nature. Not pity for the creatures themselves. They were not deserving of life, being intelligent machines designed for the very imprisonment of Lowenah's living children. The pity was that Asotos could have made these creatures as helpers for and complements of his siblings, giving to them living gifts similar to that of the rings Lowenah had given. But Asotos threw all this away, seeking his own selfish glory and power.

Now was no time to ponder what might have been. Using his newly discovered weapon, Treston struck quickly to gain the battle. Speaking out in disgust, he lifted his arm, bellowing, "How dare you keep secrets from me! Do you not know I am aware of your numbers still hiding in the mind of this despicable being?" referring to Sirion. "Bring forth your people so that we may all leave together before I destroy its flesh!"

The creatures stared at Treston, squinting. Imperceptibly at first, a hissing arose from the surrounding horde, reaching a crescendo of angry, snakelike buzzing. There was something lurking within this stranger that belied his threats, and also betrayed his intentions.

Care! The creatures could sense Treston's fondness for the being whose mind they occupied. They now recalled the many dream shares he had with Sirion, the countless sweet nothings he had whispered in her ears, the loving strokes of his fingers on her skin. This man was an imposter, delivered here with an evil intent, not some slave of their maker and god. They would not tolerate such insolence. Ever so slowly, they advanced toward their new enemy.

What to do? Treston's mind reeled. There was no time...no time to think out a strategy...no time to consider options.

Treston did the only thing a soldier of his disposition could do. He cried out in defiance, "Then we shall all go to damnation!"

Grunting as he did, with all his strength, Treston lifted his body away from Sirion's, pressing his forearm down across the woman's throat and driving his weight against it.

"Die!" he screamed. "We shall all meet in Hell!"

Sirion struggled but a little. There was no energy left within her. Treston's weight crushed the breath from her lungs. In seconds, it would be finished. Sirion's frail body of flesh would soon pass beyond life. And the creatures within? They would pass along, too, into the forgotten world of lost minds and hopes...a fate they refused to accept.

Rumbling like the earth ripping itself asunder crashed upon Treston's ears. He watched transfixed as the landscape turned blue, then orange, and finally a burnt, crimson red. Angry black mountains rose above the blazing plain while a tempestuous firestorm raged above the mountain peaks. At first by the hundreds and then by the thousands upon thousands, wild-eyed, lizard-like demons rose from the smoldering cinders, screeching in fear and agony.

Sirion's heart beats were slowing, her struggles for life all but forgotten. Still the monsters came until all the plain surrounding Treston was filled with this devilish horde. Soon all the demons were departed the woman's mind. Now homeless and in great peril, having surrendered up their source of energy and life, the creatures looked longingly at Treston to give them renewed hope. He did nothing.

Contemptuously, the creature that had appeared in Azriela's form, but a now hideous mutation of it, screeched, "To it! To it! We must take it by force or we all will die!"

To Treston's horror, a demented chorus of discord sprang from the mouths of these monsters, slowly transforming themselves into the deformed and ulcerous vision from Treston's nightmare. A million voices, hands clutching heads, cried out in unison, "Why has it come to us? Too late! Too late! Go back to the damned! Go back! Go back! Yours is the fate of all! Of all! This is the fate of all!" The land erupted in wild laughter.

"The River has been crossed! The boatman must be paid!" Those words had come from Treston's mouth, but he was not their author.

Again came that cry and then a glowing shadow of mist enveloped him, a voice whispering, "We shall the boatman pay. Be on your watch, but fear not the hour or the day."

In seconds, a troop of fiery Cherubs with flaming swords encircled the much confused and dumbfounded Treston, their numbers constantly growing. Their leader, RosMismar, brandished his blade, shouting, "The hour has come to pass! Shall the glory of the true and living God be hidden from you miserable freaks of a stupid and twisted mind!? Come, advance and witness the glory of the living God!"

There was a howl of dismay from a million lips as the realization that their one chance for survival might be out of reach, but try they must. "Onward as one!" their leader screamed. "We must drive them back! Drive them back, or all will be lost!"

Thus began the 'Battle for Desmond Hall' better known as the 'War in the Mountains'. Do not think this some symbolic event. It was real and deadly, very deadly. If only one demon could enter into Treston, all hope would be lost. All the work of the Cherubs, all their milleniums of labor, any dream of curing Zoe's heart would be only a wistful memory.

"To War!" came the responding cry in unison from the Cherubs as they charged into the fight.

The battle, lasting only seconds by our reckoning, seemed eternal to Treston. Slowly, very slowly, his fighting companions and yes, he, himself, fought off the onslaught of countless demons bent on the invasion of Treston's mind. There were times when Treston found himself grappling with some monster that had managed to break through the protective ring of Cherubs. When a beast met its doom at the hands of a Cherub, it would squeal, fall, and then melt away into nothingness. But the enemy numbers were far too great to hope a killing of them all. The battle must run its course, until the remaining creatures' energy dissipated and they too faded away.

Gradually the fighting waned, with those creatures in the lead the most desperate to survive succumbing the soonest, using all their powers to succeed with a breakthrough. Eventually the few remaining survivors ran off, seeking places to hide only to be hunted down and dispatched by the Cherubs. Treston found himself bruised and bloodied, standing upon a barren field void of his enemies. He slumped in sadness. "I have kil't her to save her. The cure is no better than the disease..."

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Treston looked up into weary, smiling eyes. 'Strange' he thought, 'RosMismar looks tired. How little I understand this world above the world of men'.

"Therapon, my brother," RosMismar sighed, contented, "think not the child dead. She you have saved, indeed, saved us all! Many and strange are the ways of Zoe and her children before the Days of Time, but stranger still are the ways of her wild children from the Lower Realms!"

Treston was surprised. "How can you speak this way of a man who could only find salvation for someone so precious through the woman's destruction? Tell me, please, how great was my wisdom this day?"

RosMismar grasped Treston by the shoulders and gave him a firm shake of approval. "In all our wisdom, not one of us could find a remedy to save this child. We did not know how you would save her this day. As I said earlier, 'you must find a way to get us across the river.' But I knew not how you would or even could do it. Yet we trusted you to find a way. You were our only hope." He grinned. "Now bask in your reward."

Treston groaned with fatigue. He was only now beginning to feel the extreme exhaustion the battle had wrought upon him. A sleepy darkness enveloped him and he tumbled forward but did not remember falling. Soothing warmth swaddled him, carrying the man along into forgetful dreams.

Several days passed before Treston awoke, and that for but a moment. Beside him rested Sirion, her rhythmic breathing filling the man's heart with joy and relief.

As if on cue, Sirion's eyes opened. She turned to see Treston, smiled and whispered, "So you do hold my hand. I've dreamed so many strange and disturbing things, but you were there to give me rescue, always there to give me resc..." She slipped back into a quiet sleep.

Treston felt the weight of hopeless dreams lift from his mind. Whether the past events were real or imagined, it mattered little. Sirion rested safely beside him. Tomorrow was soon enough for him to discover what had really come to pass. Today, this moment, was enough to satisfy his soul. Sirion lived.

Treston closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep, satisfied and content.

* * *

Thus far, The Chronicles of Heaven's War deals primarily with events in the First Realm during the tumultuous years just preceding the revealing of the ravens' seed. The following information has been added to help round out Clarion's account of the seed and provide some detail concerning the three great houses that have really controlled the world of men in the Lower Realms throughout the ages. When one reads the history of the world of men, many acts and deeds committed by those ruling often appear strange and self-defeating. Knowing who the true power behind the throne was – in actuality, Asotos – the reader will gain added discernment for the reasons of such actions.

For the history of these conflicts between Good and Evil, the volumes of "Book VI: Cry of the Eagle Spirits" of these Chronicles, add further enlightment regarding this subject.

In time, Nimrod lifted himself up in order to make a conquering of all the world. This was encouraged by his closest of advisors, Hormax. His exploits reached east to India and as far west as to threaten Shem's children who lived by the Great Sea. Eventually, the ire of the king of Egypt was stirred, he gathering all armies of the West to resist Nimrod's encroachments, confronting him on the Plains of Sodom. This was in the days before the great fire and quake that sank the rift valley, creating the Salt Sea.

The Egyptian confederacy soundly defeated Nimrod's army, making him take flight with the remainder of his shattered forces. It was not long after his humiliating return to Babel that he was murdered by his own family, his body being unceremoniously burned in a rubbish heap. Thus the reign of Babel's dynasty ended, its glory being turned over to Egypt. It was not to be until Nebuchadnezzar, second ruler of the Neo-Babylonian Empire that Babel with Babylon as its capital returned to world prominence.

As for Hormax, he, along with many of his fellow priests and counselors, were taken captive into Egypt. When the king came to recognize the man, he removed his chains, lifting him up in glory and position. From that day forward, Hormax remained in Egypt, practicing his magical arts and becoming renowned for his wisdom.

In the straits of time - for he lived many years - Hormax changed the face of Egypt, giving power and glory into Pharaoh's hand until there was no land in the Eastern world that did not give tribute to the king of Egypt. In its richness, Egypt rewarded Hormax, eventually changing his name to 'Horus', and lifting him up to godship. Many of his sons and grandsons were also made into gods over the land. And from his becoming chief priest and counselor over all the land, Egypt came to have peace all around, no enemy daring to stand against the land.

As a note, in the days of Hormax' grandson, Nabihu, the seat of Hormaxian rulership which was the real power behind the throne, was transferred from Egypt to the lands of the Hamitic people in the West by that Hormaxian priest, remaining there until after the destruction of Atlantis. At that time, Hormaxian High Priest Rapadies returned the glory of world dominance back to Egypt.

It was to Hormax that Asotos gave much of his power and wisdom. Hormax began a rebuilding of MusolEgypt, using as a pretext the making of great monuments for the pharaohs of Egypt, building them over many of the pre-Flood ruins. He devised a written language for the common people, but also one only known to the priests and pharaohs. 'Hieroglyphics', as his inventions came to be known, are filled with many double meanings and not yet deciphered down to the days of the Great Juncture, an event that will be discussed later.

Hormax, a man having wisdom extraordinaire given him by his adoptive father, Asotos, went on to invent an order of men who would preserve a bloodline for the Serpent, thus saving sacred the heir or seed who was to return all glory to the Historunien Templorenie and restore Asotos' kingdom over mankind. This bloodline was to pass from Hormax through his sons and their sons down through time until the Great Juncture, the day for the return of the Historunien Templorenie. The reason being was Hormax's soul was rich with the genetic makeup of Asotos, thus making it easy for him to connect with minds of the fallen sons of Lowenah.

The curse of silence and obscurity spoken by Aphrodite fell severely upon Hormax and his children, forcing him to either create or infiltrate societies, covens, and orders. His heirs also drew close to kings and leaders, working in the shadows to keep open the way for Asotos' seed to grow and prosper as it waited to be born anew in future days. Before his death, Hormax had devised a sacred trinity using the symbol of the cross and/or the swastika to identify his special arrangement so his children would never forget their real purpose in life.

Hormax' Sacred Trinity worked thusly: His most secret order, the Historunien Warlocks, was divided into three major houses, each separate and yet overlapping, with but one governing body of eighteen men total, six for each house. One man from each house sat the throne of the Holy Knights Templorenie, yet none of the other of the eighteen men knew who the three were, thus the divine mystery of the Holy Trinity. Down through the days to the revealing of the seed, this arrangement in various forms existed unbroken.

The following information is the makeup of that Hormaxian House as instituted by High Priest Gomer, who modified Hormax' concept, this procedure being generally adhered to by the Hormaxian priesthood from that time forward.

The First House, the 'House of Divination' or 'Gray Hearts' was the lower of the houses. It was devised to distract the world of men from learning about the other two houses. From it came religions that worshiped the devil, spirits, and demons through the creation of saints and gods, both good and evil. These religions were made up to terrify and repulse the people. By keeping the world in fear of the demons, the other two houses could safely carry on the true divination, that of keeping the world under the control of Asotos and his lieutenants.

The Second House, the 'House of Runes' or 'White Warlocks' was also second in power, designed to keep the masses willing to follow the rulers of the world and preserve all the sacred writings of divination. Not only did this house gather all the writings of men together, establishing the world's outstanding library systems, they infiltrated every society of man be it educational, secular, scientific, historic, political, and religious to recreate the knowledge of mankind to fit what they wanted men to believe. They rewrote history to suit the needs of the Order so that the real power would remain in the hands of the Historunien Warlocks.

The Third House was most powerful, deciding the fate or course of the other two houses. Called the 'House of the Father-God' or the 'Black Warlocks', it became the real ruling power over mankind. Slinking in the shadows, gaining the ears of the world's power-brokers, the Black Warlocks slipped its agents into every existing organization on earth. No group was too small to avoid its attention. The rise and fall of many organizations, nations, religions, and/or the leadership was directly controlled and/or influenced by this last house.

Through his study of pre-Flood maps found in the first chamber and others discovered while building the funeral mounds for the pharaohs, Hormax pieced together a topographical picture of the pre-Diluvian era. He eventually discovered that there were a total of thirty-nine major cities divided into three states, each ruled over by one of Asotos' chief lieutenants: Godenn, SalakTaqadam, and BornakStanalious. Legion was head administrator over them, thus the reason for the four-pronged cross, with all arms pointing to the center head, Asotos.

Each state had thirteen districts, one major city or citadel for each district. As Hormax studied the maps, he discerned that the thirty-nine cities were not randomly built, but were specifically located to represent astronomical bodies in the evening skies above MusolEgypt - yet not as they appeared in the evening sky in his day but at a future time.

Excited, Hormax, now called 'Horus' by the Egyptian priests and rulers, gathered the wise leaders of all the houses of Historunien Warlocks to a small, then out-of-the-way city he later named MemphisEmNahar, its literal meaning 'The mother river that leads to the greater Memphis'. There, for many months, these wise men examined the maps and runes of the pre-Flood earth to gain an understanding of their Father-God's purpose for the world.

Using all their known powers of incantations, divinations, spells, witchcraft, and spiritistic ceremony and sacrifices, through visions and dreams, they came to an understanding of future times. To them, Asotos granted knowledge of his greatest and most secret plans formulated long before the first ruin of mankind.

In the days of Enoch, when Lowenah first brought a disease upon Asotos for his murdering ways, thus forcing him to refrain from bringing to a finish all loyal children of Lowenah, Asotos hatched a scheme that would bring down all of Lowenah's house. He would create a race of men with capable enough strength and mind to be lifted up to the Heavens to war against and bring to a finish all the loyal children of Lowenah. In that day, he began to produce a seed who, in the latter days, would unify the entire world against God and bring to a finish the 'great human experiment' as independent mankind's rulership was known.

Calculating the times and seasons Lowenah had set for the bringing about of her seed and kingdom, Asotos set about developing his own timetable for the accomplishing of his purposes, and the day his army would be ready to march against the heavenly host. To keep all his servants in tune with his plans, both heavenly and earthly, he situated his cities to match a time in the Heavens when certain star systems and planets would align, thus the Great Juncture or Convergence. He believed through this and other clandestine deceptions his servants could prepare for this coming war in secret, keeping Lowenah and her loyal children in ignorance.

With the Flood, all of Asotos' machinations came to naught - at least in Lowenah's innocent mind. But Asotos was determined in his pride to fully accomplish his purposes through a change of plans. With Hormax' willing assistance, Asotos began anew his campaign to bring to birth a super race, this time through genetic breeding, to create his Heaven-bound army.

It was not until Abram's day that Lowenah began to understand what Asotos was attempting. It was at that time she lifted up Aphrodite to strength and glory, because there was no one found with greater faith and love than this woman. It was she that changed Abram's name to that of 'Abraham', delivering up to him, along with angels, the promise of his producing a seed. Later, through angels and prophets, Lowenah set forth dates for her seed's arrival, misleading dates that forced Asotos to step up his timeline, thus confusing his plans. The arrival of the Messiah, though serving an important purpose, was not the day of arrival for Lowenah's final seed. But Asotos, not realizing that, acted hastily to push his day, creating instead an unstable world power unable to hold its kingdom together, leading to an extended dark age for both men and Asotos.

The gathering of Asotos' seed became the paramount purpose of the Historunien Warlocks. With demonic help, they began to gather the bloodline of Asotos from all the family orders of mankind. Selecting those with the purest blood of their Father-God, Hormax, his sons and their sons and so on, mixed their own blood with that of these chosen others, creating a line of descent worthy of their father's name.

Now here is where wisdom of understanding must abound. As Trisha stated at the last council before the prisoner exchange, 'There are two ravens among you', speaking of Lowenah and Asotos, so it was with the evolution of the two seeds.

Asotos, for his part, drew from his bloodstock, literally, to produce his seed. Lowenah, on the other hand, chose to look deep into the genetic makeup of her seed's forebears, seeking genetic qualities that would most reflect her personality in the finished product or seed. Often was the case, unbeknownst to Asotos, Lowenah used Asotos' own machinations to advance the purpose of her coming seed. For example, while Asotos believed he was polluting Lowenah's bloodline by corrupting Joseph's lineage with his marriage to Potiphera's daughter, Asenath \- Potiphera and his wife being pure stock of Hormax - in reality, Lowenah took advantage of specific genetics to enhance her seed.

By whatever means necessary, the Historunien Warlocks promulgated Asotos' bloodline, primarily carried out through sexual sacrifices of the House of the Gray Hearts. But if that failed to secure the best candidates, then through plunder, rape, and incest they sought to accomplish their purpose. Rahab's own mother was such a victim, Rahab being a progeny of temple rape by descendants of Hormax. Lowenah preserved this woman alive through the destruction of Jericho to add Rahab's genetics to the growing list for her seed. All the while Asotos laughed, thinking he was outsmarting Lowenah by polluting her bloodline with his.

Eventually, shortly after the murder of her Messiah, Lowenah's seed line disappeared, with no trace remaining for Asotos to observe. He - Asotos - rightfully determined the line must be hidden within Abraham's descendants, but he concluded wrongly that it was secreted in among those claiming such descendability. Throughout the remaining centuries, up until the day of the seed's revealing, Asotos continued a pogrom of annihilation against Abraham's children.

Returning to Hormax' history, something else revealed at the Historunien Warlock Convention at Memphis was the meaning of the locations of these thirty-nine pre-Flood cities. Not only did they match up to reveal the date of the arrival of Asotos' coming seed when the Great Juncture would occur, it focused upon the very location of the gateway to Eden, by then, in the post-Flood era, lost even to Asotos and his henchmen. The reason for this was that while the waters swirled above the surface of the earth, the huge plates making up its crust had shifted and continued to shift, the cataclysm creating the Flood having done this, scattering the cities toward the four winds. Hormax did not understand this nor did his descendants until far into the later ages.

The Historunien Warlock Convention not only created an agenda for propagating Asotos' seed, it determined with zeal to search for all of the thirty-nine lost cities. Upon those ruins they would construct new cities and towers, thus discovering the land of Eden, claiming it for their Father-God when the appointed day arrived. For this reason, the earth came to eventually be filled with pyramid temples of worship, towers that would one day be used to locate Eden.

Asotos knew that merely finding the cities' ruins was a useless undertaking, but he did not deter their efforts, having reasons of his own for them doing it. He also wished to find Eden, the greatest of all of Lowenah's existing laboratories. He proposed, through a process that I will call 'reverse engineering' where one starts at the end to find the beginning by using the data collected over the following ages, to redraw the world of pre-Diluvian days by progressively tracing the cities' movements through time over distance in travel. Then, by determining where these ruined cites moved to and how fast, he would find the approximate location of Eden.

When Asotos' house fell apart with the demise of the Roman Empire, the Historunien Warlocks had little choice but to hide in the religions spawned by one of their students, Constantine. In sacred monasteries, the Order continued on with its work as best it could. Other than gathering new members through various minor orders so as to keep Asotos' bloodline going, little else could be done except attention to the rune duties, preserving Hormaxian writings safe until the a day of awakening arrived. During this dark age, many secret societies and orders came to birth. From the Assassins of the Middle East to the Knights Templar and on to the Masons and Illuminarians, most could trace their roots to this time period.

During this era, in what came to be called the 'Reformation' in the lands of Western Europe, the gate keepers for what remained of the Roman Empire, the Historunien Warlocks, were able to pick up their search for the remaining lost cities of pre-Diluvian history. Through inventions of stories telling of fantastic wealth, sunken continents, fountains of youth, and countless other tales, the Historunien House fired the imaginations of kings and nobles to journey into the newly rediscovered wild lands in search of these treasures but, in truth, for these cities.

To ensure that a continual stream of monies would fall into the coffers of those financing these explorations, the Historunien House created a banking industry that found no rival, either in future ages or in past. To obtain the needed funds, they dabbled in the politics of the day, encouraging the subjection and enslavement of entire races of people, stealing their wealth or even stealing them and selling the people into slavery. Alas! For all their efforts, only a handful of these cities were discovered.

So it was, near the end of the Age of Empires, the Historunien House shifted its attention away from kings and toward men of science. In the centuries following, industrialization and scientific exploration exploded, filling the earth with all manner of new technologies and knowledge. It was near the end of six days of mankind's rule that the greatest of all discoveries were made. But all of the work of the Historunien House was soon threatened by a man once part of their very society.

A man of Germanic origin, a man of pure blood, with his roots firmly established in the house of Hormax, one Adolf Hitler, was lifted up by the Historunien House and by good graces, approved by Asotos, himself. As a young soldier in the Great War, Asotos preserved this man alive and later, by his own hand, gave to the man much of what was written by him in his book, Mein Kampf. Many of those in the three houses of Warlocks believed him to be the coming seed.

Eventually, through mischief and intrigues, the Historunien House brought Adolf to power, but only after initiating him into the First House, the House of Divination, the Gray Hearts. From this house were chosen his personal bodyguards who eventually came to be known as 'Brown Shirts'. Following their instruction, Adolf gained the position of chancellor over a country called 'Germany', a former state of the Roman Empire.

But Adolf Hitler chose not to follow the direction of the Holy Order. Instead, he conspired with a few confidants, also members of the House of Divination, and one Rudolph Hess who was of the order of the Black Warlocks. Basking in his newfound glory and the visions from Asotos, Adolf designed the murder of all the Gray Hearts surrounding him.

He also took to a searching out of any other Gray Hearts, the names of many he had come to know. In any land he conquered, he made a concerted effort at eradicating them. That was the reason he imprisoned all known homosexuals, executing many, and why he murdered so many Gypsies, knowing that the House of Warlocks often took advantage of the caravans of these migrating people to move their own people about. But to the Jews he gave most of his attention, to bring them to nothing - this in an attempt to appease Asotos after his murder of the Brown Shirts.

The House of the Historunien Warlocks was thrown into total confusion, it taking several years for them to realize that Rudolph Hess had converted many agents of the houses to give covert support to Adolf Hitler and then many more years to weed them out. Hess had a private agenda to eventually take over the Three Houses and set himself up as the chosen seed. The reason Hess did not die but was imprisoned for life was because the Historunien Warlocks wished for him to see all his schemes come to naught, and also so that Asotos, who was infuriated by his actions, could torment the man's mind until his death at an old age.

As if by Providence - but it was really through Lowenah's mischief - the imperial nation of Japan attacked a military outpost belonging to the country of the United States of America, thus drawing the most powerful nation ever seen on the earth into a war against both them and Germany. This gave the Historunien Warlocks time to reconsolidate their power and eventually bring down the rebellious German house. What neither they nor Asotos knew was that Lowenah had her own reasons for preserving that house alive.

By the time the war ended, the House of Warlocks saw its power become more prominent than ever before. Banking now ruled the world, what with the nations' monetary gold standard virtually wiped out and the need for paper money and credit to rebuild a ruined planet. Leading nations could now fund costly programs by merely printing more money and promising to pay the people back. In short order, through the efforts of the Warlocks, the scientific community was swimming in incalculable wealth. It was believed that with the advancement of scientific study and exploration, remaining lost cities could be discovered, and none too soon.

The first decade after the war was disappointing. Scientific research was slow enough, but then a cold war developed between the two most powerful nations. Before all hope was lost, the House of Warlocks decided to concentrate its scientific energies on geology and astronomy, for which they were richly rewarded. With the development of new, deep-sea exploratory devices and space satellites, the long-lost cities soon began to reappear. Also, as a side benefit that was most helpful, the earth's tectonic plate movements after the Flood were mapped, helping discover the original locations of these same cities.

As the time neared for the revealing of the seed, the House of Warlocks had discovered all but six of the thirty-nine cities, their feeling being that the remainder had become victims of tectonic plate movement and were no more. By tracing the continental drift back through the years, they were quite certain where the general location of the gateway to Eden must be, at least to within a few hundred miles. But for Asotos, the works of his earthly servants had provided him a much clearer picture, bringing the location down to the very garden complex of Eden where all human life began.

Asotos intended to eventually revive the laboratory of Eden, knowing that Lowenah had not destroyed it but hidden it, intact, under mountains of rock and debris left behind from the Flood. It was his intention to set up his new capital city in the very vicinity of Eden and there begin anew his genetic experiments to create his super race of warriors. But first he needed to make sure the land would become a holy place for all his earthly servants. He would do this by delivering his long awaited seed to Eden, to the very garden location where all human life began. From there, he would lift up his seed, making Eden a sacred shrine to his own majesty.

' _Do not think your treasure secure when a raven outside your window, on a perch, resides'. Well should have Asotos remembered those words of his own making when considering the mischief of Lowenah. I say, "Master, discern your slave by the mark upon his forehead! Should the design be flawed, then to another might that slave belong."_

The sons of Noah were Japheth, Ham, and Shem. Now Shem became a jewel in Noah's eyes and Shem, Noah doted over to an extreme, favoring him with many cherished gifts. To Japheth and Ham, Noah gave wisdom and insight, training them in all his knowledge, but his heart belonged to Shem. For this reason, Lowenah gave to Shem the promise of the coming seed to save all nations, but to Ham she gave the names 'Son of the Jaguar', 'Wielder of Stone', and to Japheth – because he was most loved by Aphrodite – she gave the names 'Son of the Mountain Bear' and 'Keeper of the Copper Way and the Secret Lands of CharrLibbEdannon', pronounced 'Eden' in the common tongue.

Now it came about that the sons of Noah - Ham with his sons, Cush and Mizraim, and Japheth with his sons Magog, Madai, Javan, and Meshech, with their father Noah leading them, had just concluded a journey across vast waters to a land later known as the 'Isles of Meric' when news of the deeds of Hormax and Nimrod reached their ears. Upon them had no winged serpent fallen, Lowenah's spirit having harbored Noah and those with him safe. Thus these men spoke a language strange and different from all other men.

### * * *

### Section 23:

"Shall the World Forever Burn?"

Captain Joleck hurried along the narrow corridor leading to AnnBoleyn's shuttle bay. In less than twelve hours the fleet would be in orbit over EdenEsonbar's capital, Palace City. There were so many things to do and she, having lingered to this late hour with Darla, needed to make a quick return to her ship, DusmeAstron.

"Captain Joleck! Captain Joleck, please wait up!" Lieutenant Ilanit called out to Joleck as she came running up to her.

Joleck stopped, impatient. "Yes?"

Ilanit, out of breath, stepped up close, an envelope in her hand. "Captain Joleck! It is so good of you to wait. This is urgent, most urgent!" She handed the envelope to Joleck. "You must help me, Captain! Colonel Darla's well-being is at risk and this message must reach its destination!"

Curious, Joleck took the envelope from Ilanit, glancing at the receiver's name scrawled on it. "Why me and not our courier?"

Ilanit shook her head. "My dear Captain, there is treason afoot! Should this fall into the wrong hands, our colonel may well become a victim of untold violence. You are privy to the King's Council, your presence expected among them. No one will become suspicious if you are seen there."

Joleck stared at the envelope, concerned. "I don't know, I..."

"Captain..," Ilanit implored, "I have no other person I can trust. Already our first officer was murdered over this matter. Colonel Darla has many enemies. She is a target of Asotos' attention. Ever since the prisoner exchange, she has been hunted by evil agents bent on her capture. No, I cannot risk this to any other person. You must help me!"

Joleck finally relented, promising to deliver the letter to its destination as soon as may be.

Ilanit smiled, relieved, thanking her and then requested, "Please, this must be kept quiet. Ears and eyes are everywhere. Trust no one. If this falls into the wrong hands, then...well, I fear the results."

Joleck nodded and turning, hurried toward the shuttle doors.

* * *

The body fell to the ground, its final breath exhausted as it crashed with a thud. Symeon's teeth shone through a grizzled smile. He grunted, wiping his bloodied knife across his already blood-smeared uniform. "This scout will never reveal our position." He gave a kick, making sure the person was dead. "Check it for anything useful then strip it. We can use the cloth."

"Yes...y-y-es, sir," a hesitant soldier answered, then went about his task as ordered.

"And check to make sure there are no bugs!" Symeon commanded, turning around. "We don't need to be tracked now, do we?"

It had only been a few weeks since Asotos had invaded Pilneser, but already Symeon was making a name for himself. 'Ghost Walker' was a name given him by his company, so silent and quiet he was while slinking through the wooded countryside. And there was another thing that his fellow companions noticed, even troubling some. Symeon could 'smell the world' as he told others. It was as if he had become part of the very being of the planet itself, seeing and hearing through the eyes of wild creatures inhabiting the land.

The enemy was also taking notice, Colonel HuffinReidmares sadly aware of his need to cover any of his convoys with extra troopers and at least one gunship. And the gruesome discoveries often made after the insurgents' raids so disheartened the soldiers that many were unwilling to leave the scattered compounds to search for them. Although the army suffered attacks in every quadrant, his regiment received the greatest number of casualties and indignities. Who or what was the reason for this? The colonel needed to know.

What of obtaining information from prisoners taken? Few had fallen into their hands alive. Colonel Huffin was a veteran of many wars and was not used to losing. A losing officer did not last long in this army. But never had he witnessed the madness observed here. Twice he had seen prisoners gunned down by their own comrades, three times people had bitten cyanide capsules hidden on their clothing, and one strangled herself by pressing her throat against a chair back until passing out.

Only once had someone been successfully taken alive, but even she had refused to surrender to the colonel's many ways of persuasion. The only information obtained from the woman after several hours of constant torture was, in her words, 'The dead now walk among you and the Denier seeks redemption through foul deeds.'

The colonel slammed his fist into an opened palm. "Damn! She will talk or I'll cook her in her own blood!"

"Sergeant!" Colonel Huffin shouted, his voice almost a screech.

The sound of hurried feet came from the other room and the door flew open. "Yes, Commandant!?" The nervous sergeant quailed. "Yes, My Lord!?"

"Bring me our prisoner, now!" The colonel raised a clenched fist, waving it. "I have been too kind to that creature! She will give me what I want! Snap to it!"

The sergeant saluted and rushed out the door, shutting it behind him.

As he did, Colonel Huffin cried after him, "And don't be gentle with her either!"

While he waited for the sergeant to return, Huffin worked up his anger by viewing pictures taken after a recent raid on a small outpost. He closed his eyes, outrage growing on his face as he thought about the deeds done his soldiers. "I will find this Denier,"he muttered. "I will find him and teach the world what righteous indignation really is!"

In a few minutes, the sergeant had returned. With the assistance of his corporal, the two delivered the naked prisoner to the colonel. Working their way through the door, they dragged a woman too weak to walk. They held her up by use of a steel bar forced up under her arms and behind her back, the woman's hands tied in front of her. With every jolt, the prisoner cried out in pain. Colonel Huffin smiled.

"Hang her up!" the angry, red-faced colonel commanded, pointing to hooks fastened high up on the wall.

Grunting, the two men lifted the woman off her feet and onto the hooks, dropping the steel bar in their pockets. Satisfied, the colonel began a tirade of threats and curses. In time he tired of his verbal attacks, seeing the woman had not responded. Angrily, he punched her several times, finally back-handing her across the face.

The colonel watched the woman's broken mouth as it filled with blood until in ran down her chin and dripped onto the floor. Finally he turned, hands behind him, and swaggered back to his desk, pivoting to face his prisoner, asking, "Will you not tell me, my dear, the name of your leader or shall I have to flay both your body and mind to extract such a little thing?"

Raising her head with a good deal of effort, the prisoner spat through torn lips, "The Devil shall his due this day be paid in full upon your head. The man who walks a shadow's death is but only a heartbeat away."

"Riddler! Stupid riddler! Such stupidity will not save you!" Colonel Huffin sprung for the prisoner. After beating the woman almost unconscious, screaming vile oaths and threats, the colonel, hopelessly frustrated, ordered his sergeant, "Go get my tools and be quick! Don't forget the prods!"

"Yes, my Lord!" The sergeant saluted and, with the corporal, rushed from the room.

Waiting for the sergeant to return, Colonel Huffin reclined behind his desk, muttering. When he saw the prisoner move and groan, he mocked her. "Paid upon your head it will be! Your words are for yourself...yourself...you will see!"

Time dragged on and no sergeant. Growing impatient, the colonel got up and went to the door, shouting for the man to hurry up. Opening it, he saw no one. "Damn slacker!" he huffed, and went storming through the outer office and out the front door.

The woman listened to the footsteps fade then hung her head and began to softly weep...weep for lost love and innocence. This Colonel Huffin was her one-time mentor and lover. He had journeyed with her into the mountains, she little more than a maiden, sharing with her the secrets of the blood grape and teaching her the finer arts of love. Now he wished her torture and death. An overwhelming sadness in her heart pained the woman far worse than any of the colonel's blows.

Suddenly, the woman's ears heard the twisting of a handle. How had the colonel returned without being heard? His shoes were hard and noisy. She braced herself for the torments to come but they did not.

Slowly, the door opened, revealing a gray-cloaked man who whispered, "ChuntayKrauge? Is that you, Chuntay?"

The woman let out a weak sigh, nodding but once.

Strong hands lifted Chuntay down, quickly releasing the ropes binding her. Holding Chuntay firmly, after hefting her over his shoulder, the man in gray sprayed explosive foam on the far wall, blowing a small hole through it. Before leaving, he took his knife and drove it through a paper, pinning it to the wall beneath the hooks.

Colonel Huffin was just returning, having been unable to find his sergeant, when a concussive force hit his ears. Lights flickered, went out, and came back on. He ran into the building, past the sergeant's desk, and into his office. With bulging eyes, he stared at the hole in his wall. Then he spotted a piece of paper where his prisoner had been hanging. Walking over to it, there was another riddle scrawled in large letters.

Bending close, he read, ' _The skin of life, the breath of death. Your sign will come, the mark of Cain– from brother Seth._ '

_Click!_ Huffin blinked at the sound the knife made. It saved his eyes. _Kaa-foom!_ The colonel reeled backward, clutching his face. His nostrils sucked in a sicky-sweet smell that reminded him of death. Then the pain...this terrible burning pain as acid that had exploded from within the knife's handle began eating away the flesh on his face.

Falling to the floor in writhing agony, Colonel Huffin screamed for help, calling over and over for his sergeant. No one came. Suddenly, a deafening roar drowned the colonel's cries. Shattered glass and splintered wood hurtled across the room. The building heaved and creaked, threatening to fall in upon itself. Simultaneously, a half dozen other explosions shook the compound, sending storage buildings and barracks up in flame followed by the _'rat-tat-tat'_ of rapid-fire weapons.

Crackling flames began filling the building with billowing clouds of acrid smoke. Then the lights went out. Half blinded by the pain and unable to see in the darkness, Huffin still managed to find his way through the door, past the front office to escape the consuming blaze. He crawled down the stone steps and onto the dirt-covered parade ground, gasping to breathe in fresh air. The ache in his lungs was only subsiding when a sound of nearby footsteps alerted him to possible danger. He lay quiet, waiting, listening.

Weapons fire grew more distant and sporadic, the sound of voracious flames ever increasing. _'Crunch...crunch_ ...' With blurred vision, Huffin could see two dusty boots only inches from his face, then, to his dismay, the chill of cold steel touching the side of his head. He closed his eyes, waiting for the final blow to come.

"So this is the great Colonel HuffinReidmares I've heard so much about." The taunting words fell on the colonel's ears. "I have been informed you wish to meet my acquaintance, that you have been most insistent on finding me. Is it really so?"

Huffin groaned in pain, muttering, "I am a dead man even now, as you already know. Finish it and we will be done."

There was a momentary pause before the person replied. "There is a lady who tells me that she still believes there is a spark of good in you...something I doubt. She seeks a parley at another time with you. I do not understand it at all."

Lifting his head, Huffin grunted, "I will be dead on the 'morrow either way. When your successes here become known, how shall I survive my superiors' wrath? So finish me now and get it over with."

There was a long pause. "Colonel, as you are aware, I barter with no man or demon. But to you, I give a choice. If you choose, I will skewer you through this moment. I will not need to do it twice. You can then be made to look the part of a hero, and go off into the Abyss, knowing you are honored among your own...or..."

Silent for a moment, the colonel asked, "Or what, Sir...or what?"

"Surrender to me as my prisoner. I promise you no harm at my hand, or from any of my own. The woman found in your company I cannot speak for. She is of greater glory and rank than I, and presently is unable to command her final desires. I will see to your wounds and have your needs tended to. Your damnation I leave up to you."

Huffin said nothing.

"Or" the person calmly offered, "I can leave you here in the dirt to await your rescue."

"No! Please!" Huffin cried. "If your second offer is sure, I will surrender my soul into your hands. Please don't leave me here alive."

"Pick him up!" the person commanded. "Up you, and close your eyes!"

Colonel Huffin stood, eyes closed. He braced himself for the feel of coarse cloth binding him in darkness and the searing ache it would effect on his acid burns. To his surprise, he felt a hand as it spread some kind of a numbing salve over his face.

When finished, the person administering the medicine exclaimed, "The mark of Cain you shall wear for a sign of the mercy shown you this day. Until your death...or redemption...something I wholly doubt, this is your proof that the one you determined to murder in heart and soul carries a love for you that transcends thinking and reason."

With that, they bound the colonel. Just before covering his head with a heavy gauze sack, he was told to look at his captor. As he opened his eyes, Symeon pulled back his hood, smiling wryly, "Do not think me soft or kindly, for your scalp could have easily bloodied my belt if not for the care this woman has shown for you. Should you live or die is of little concern to me. Let the Spirits choose your fate. Remember Chuntay. May your evil acts upon her give you many sleepless nights..."

They hurried the colonel away, the company slinking off into the night. The morning sun shone upon a charred and desolate camp, void of life and sound except for that of a tattered guidon flapping upside-down in the breeze.

* * *

Ishtar quietly sat playing with her fingers, subdued and lonely. It hadn't been the same since Merna departed, returning to Stocie's Company. Oh yes, Alynnou and Captain Madeia remained at PrasiaOdous, but it wasn't the same. Merna and the girl shared so many things from the past...Ephesus, friends, and experiences. Merna understood Ishtar, and...and put up with the girl. Others were not so tolerant and forgiving, expecting her to act more like a good officer than a spoilt child.

Alba was healing well and Ishtar enjoyed the hours spent in her company. It took the girl time to get used to looking into ghostly eyes void of sight and movement. Still it was so good to watch her old friend cope by using her inner sight, growing stronger by the day. Already Alba was fussing at the head surgeon for her release back to active duty. Shaking his head, he told her that until she could sprint the corridors of the main complex at mid-hour, the busiest time of day, he would not think her cured. Alba was determined to get that release.

Then there was her new friend, Kfir. He was fun, making her forget her disfigurement, but now he was gone most of the time with other duties. Besides, he made her think of Colonel Treston. She found it hard to believe, but the girl missed him more than all the others. It felt like a little piece of her was missing. She wondered how he was doing.

The Convalescence Corps' horticultural program was already a success. Greens of chard and spinach, beet greens and lettuces, as well as radishes and some herbs were not distant from the dinner table. Each day more seedbeds were planted with promises from the Construction Corps of additional caverns being made available soon. Colonel Chohf, even with all his faults – long-winded in speech was often mentioned as one – was determined to make a success of his farm project, even making plans for some grain fields in sheltered mountain valleys come spring.

Ishtar smiled sadly. The work was enjoyable most of the time. And it was hard work, especially for her. She had been forced to learn how to observe each individual under her direction. Many were extremely limited in what they could do and how long they could manage before needing a rest. Merna had been kind but adamant, even chastising at times, when Ishtar became too demanding of others. The girl was learning, slowly it was true, but learning nevertheless. She still missed the old way...her way of growing crops. The smell of fresh dirt, the beasts of burden, the sounds, sights, workers, the fun she had playing in the field as others toiled around her. She had been a spoiled child.

Here in this ever-growing underworld filled with a labyrinth of tunnels connecting natural and machine-made caverns of immense size and depth, the latest technology of the age was being used to create an environment to satisfy the needs of millions. This technology had not passed the gardens up. There was little dirt, most plants growing in long tubes nourished by treated wastewater from the sewage disposal facilities in temperature-controlled environments under artificial lighting, and so forth. It just was not the same for the girl, not quite like real farming.

And then there were the girl's injuries. Ishtar could talk now, at least well enough to be understood, and she could eat real food again. That was the good news and, as far as she was concerned, that wasn't even very good. The rest? Well, she didn't like to think about it at all.

Her skin grafts were successful but the remaining scars were so hideous, the girl refused to look in the mirror if at all possible. She was blind in one eye. Indeed, she had no eye remaining in her left socket. The doctors had been kind but truthful. It might be years before her sight would return to normal. And her face? It looked out of kilter, something like a porcelain doll whose broken head had been haphazardly glued back together. And she often drooled when eating or drinking, even talking. During off-duty hours like now, it was so depressing to sit alone because Ishtar could not help but ponder her loss.

There were countless facial injuries among the wounded. Ishtar realized this, also knowing that many were far worse than hers. The girl had been amazed to see a few, almost as damaged as she was, return to their earlier duties in the field, acting as if it mattered not to them as long as they could battle the enemy.

And the enemy? Ishtar shuddered recalling the soldier she gunned down. All she wanted to do was remain hidden in these bunkers until the world moved into forgetfulness and the sun shone again upon a peaceful, innocent land. She slowly shook her head. 'You are the Sword of prophecy. You will bring Legion to a finish. In your might, Memphis will again become the home of the Teachers of Law. Your armies will help bring to a finish the wickedness of this world'. The words she had so passionately embraced not that long ago had become foul-smelling to her now.

At that moment, Alynnou sidled up next to Ishtar, a bowl in her hand. "Brought you some ice-cream, Darling. This is bandoberry swirl. Got 'em to put extra caramel on it for you." She pushed the dish into Ishtar's hand before she could reply.

Ishtar stared into the dish brimming with bandoberries...greenish-blue berries with a minty, tart flavor that grow only in the PrasiaOdous Mountains, tolerating no other place in the universe. The berries mature in mid to late fall, remaining edible until new leaves appear on the plants in spring. The flavor is so addictive that, to this day, many tonnes of this crop are grown for export because of the demand, especially by veteran soldiers who served in that theater. Ishtar had also become addicted to them. The girl's hesitance to gobble up the rare treat raised Alynnou's concern for her welfare.

Placing her hand on Ishtar's knee, Alynnou leaned close, asking, "Does my darling's heart ache over many troubling things or is it but one or two? Can my darling's older sister be of succor at this time? My ear will listen in earnest and my mouth will attempt only to encourage."

Ishtar began to weep. "I don't want to kill anymore. My face is ugly, but not as ugly as my heart feels. The blood of one man pollutes my entire soul. What will become of me should the words of my visions come to pass? What good is life if evil deeds are all that one remembers?"

Alynnou squeezed Ishtar's knee. "Child of yesterday's mist, please look at me."

Ishtar slowly raised her head until she stared into Alynnou's eyes. The woman shared, "I, too, am a sword of sorts. Oh, not a special one like you. I will never rule over many people or do great deeds such as you, but I am still a sword, one chosen for a special purpose long before your world existed."

Ishtar perked up, interested in what Alynnou might reveal.

"Long ago... for you, that is... long before your kind multiplied upon the surface of the ground, I saw my future...my destiny, filled with war and deeds of slaughter. I, too, felt the same as you..." She paused for effect and when satisfied, added, "but I did not stand brave as you are doing. I ran away...far, far, away, into unreachable mountains in lands secret to all but a few. There I remained hidden, afraid of my future, denying it even to myself. Only when I heard of my sister Darla's bravery was I shamed into taking my rightful place among the others of my kind, and doing my promised duty."

She took the bowl and, setting it down, gripped Ishtar's hand. "My sword is yet to be tested. Shall I stand as brave as you? I would like to think so. But already I can tell you this. Should you attempt to run from your destiny, the pain will always haunt you. It will drive from you all self-worth. It will ruin your soul...eat you up inside. I, my child, was among the greatest of those chosen by the Cherubs, being fleet of foot and uncanny in thought and speech. One of the ShandDrom I ascended to, governess over the House of Elinor, The Keepers of Divine Light."

She closed her eyes, sighing. "Because I failed to take up my post in the hour of need, many of my sister ShandDrom fell in combat during the first great war of this rebellion, the First Megiddo War. Without being opposed by my special powers, Asotos was able to wield his own uncanny powers unchallenged. He eventually hunted down those of the House of Elinor, slaughtering them all."

Looking again at Ishtar, she confessed, "I am beyond tears anymore when I think of all those lost because I ran from my destiny. I fear that forever this burden I will carry within my bosom, too ashamed to live, too much a coward to die. When those of my house return, how will I be able to welcome them back? What curses shall they call down upon me, and rightfully so? When I fell on the field the day we contested against Legion's armies, only my desire to be with Treston kept me living. Once again, it was a selfish desire that controlled my heart."

Ishtar could not believe her ears. To think that one of the angels fled the battle, fearing and hating war was almost beyond her imagination. All her life she had been told stories about the great and fear-inspiring sons of God who stood beside God's very throne, freely dispensing punishment upon the wicked, threatening plague and disaster for anyone not carrying on their worship in absolute devotion to godly direction. An angel unwilling to exact vengeance on the wicked, especially the vile confederates of Asotos? It was almost too much for the girl to take. She mumbled something inaudible while shaking her head.

Alynnou understood quite well what the girl was saying. Her reply was delivered in a rebuff. "Think yourself no better! You are a child of destiny, with power and glory aplenty handed over to you. For two thousand years, Mother worked with your heart and mind, training you for this day. You have puffed out your chest, thinking my kind failures for not winning this war. You scoff at us in your heart, seeing us as pitiable creatures needing your guidance. I told you the secret anguish in my heart, not for your sympathy, but as a warning."

She stood, her eyes piercing Ishtar's. "Child of dust! Dreamer of forgotten times! Think what you will of me, but allow me to tell you this. You miss your mother, your father, and lost hopes and fulfillment. What have you to cry over? PalaHar and I shared our love in the ZanTorSasse Mountains, hiding ourselves away from all other living flesh for sixteen millennia. I loved him in a way as much as I love Treston. He is gone. I watched him die in front of me while you blubbered and wailed over a scratch.

"Shall you escape your destiny by whimpering over killing a worthless foe, one who may I add that in days of peace had also shared my bed? Your destiny is coming! You cannot change it anymore than you can reset Gradian's Clock. Whether it comes with shame or honor, though, is entirely up to you. If you don't want the shame, you'd better grow up!"

Alynnou stormed off.

Ishtar stood and screamed after Alynnou, "I don't want to be any friggin' Sword! I don't want to be here anymore! You want me to make this goddamned Hell back into Heaven! I can't do it, ya hear!? I friggin' can't do it!"

Other officers in the room stared, speechless.

Ishtar picked up the dish of ice cream and threw it on the floor. "Bitch!" She snorted then tramped out of the room by another door.

Making her way along a twisting tunnel corridor, Ishtar finally arrived at the main medical terminal. Transports delivered the seriously wounded here from all over MueoPoros. This was one place the child wished not to be, and had she not been in such a huff, she would have most certainly chosen to go in a different direction. Well, it was too late now. She either needed to retrace her steps, and possibly risk meeting up with Alynnou, or...or go past the newly arrived medical ships.

Oderlies and nurses were busy unloading the latest victims of war, assisting the walking wounded, carrying the others. Already the docking platform was filling with a ghastly collection of war's handiwork. Ishtar hurried along, hoping to pass through quickly. It was very difficult to do.

A bloodied hand reached up, grasping Ishtar's arm. Reacting instinctively, the girl turned to see what the matter was. There, lying on a low gurney, a broken, burned and bleeding woman stared up into Ishtar's face, her eyes beseeching the girl to stop. Barely able to speak above a choking whisper, she addressed her. "Captain... Ish... tar... Cap..." The woman turned her head away, coughing up bloody mucus.

Ishtar stared back, horrified by what she saw, but unable to turn and look away. Something about the woman was so familiar, distant in her memory, but familiar. Gradually it came to her. This woman was one of the duty officers she had directed on Brosh while journeying to MueoPoros, someone the girl had so ruefully treated.

It was obvious the woman was dying, her injuries severe. Already the glow was leaving her eyes and her face was growing ashen. Why had she stopped Ishtar? Was it to reproach her for the rude and callous treatment meted out while under the girl's command? After all, Captain Ishtar had not endeared herself to any of Brosh's crew. They were happy to see her leave.

When the coughing fit ended, the woman slowly turned her face toward Ishtar. Marshaling all her strength, she managed to ask, "My... my Lord... a blessing... please... my Lord... a blessing from our Lord upon our sacrifice."

Ishtar's throat constricted. All she could do was to take the officer's hand and hold it tightly, nodding her head with approval.

The woman smiled and closed her eyes, quietly passing away.

How long she held the woman's hand, Ishtar did not know. Eventually two orderlies arrived and, after a quick examination, covered the officer with a blanket, whisking her away to the morgue. The girl remained, looking off in that direction long after the woman was gone. At length, she turned and numbly shuffled away.

Somewhere past the terminal, Ishtar departed the main passage, finding her way along a narrow maintenance tunnel. A little distance in, the tunnel angled sharply to the left. There, far from the hustle of this mountain city, Ishtar stopped, sitting on her knees upon the dusty stone floor. Suddenly, in a violent rush, she flung herself forward, slamming her fists onto the rough rock surface, wailing in agony of heart as she did. Again and again, the girl smashed her fists against the floor, flailing about in her anguish. Soon exhausted, she fell forward, passing out on the wet, crimson stones, her bleeding fingers, broken and bruised, still searching for a hand to hold.

Ishtar awoke to the sound of soft, mesmerizing singing. Her ears tingled from the music, it soothing a nagging headache and easing the pain in aching hands. Where was she? The floor felt soft, and the air no longer musty. And the light? Yes, it was quite bright. Ever so slowly, the girl focused in on her surroundings. Surprised, Ishtar found herself resting on her cot in the officers' quarters. Someone had carefully bandaged her hands, even placing splints on two fingers. And the music, the sweet, soothing, lullaby music? Curious, she painfully searched for its source.

A hand began stroking the girl's hair, as a quiet, gentle voice asked, "Is our Lord up to some company?"

Shocked to her senses, Ishtar stared into Alynnou's much relieved face. She stuttered, "W... w... who...w... w... why do you call me 'Lord'?"

Alynnou smiled, "The entire mountain is alive with the news of the great deed you did this day. So great a gift you have given to one so in need. To offer to that woman your soul in place of hers was profound."

Ishtar shook her head. "I said nothing! Nothing! My mouth swelled shut and no words would come. Even my tears refused to fall."

In turn, Alynnou disagreed. "My child, your heart spoke loudly to all the people in the terminal. The ears of hundreds listened with suspense as you offered your oath to bind Heaven and Earth to one destiny, your soul and life to restore all that has been stolen from us. Yes, my child, your heart has revealed its true self to us all."

Ishtar frowned, pouting, "I lied! I am an ungrateful, selfish, arrogant brat, not fit to even be a stable hand cleaning the stalls! My life is filled with conceit, and contempt. I deserve nothing, am nothing!"

Alynnou began to rub Ishtar's back. "Well, that may be so. You need not convince me." She stopped and pointed. "Now you need to convince them."

Ishtar looked up to see dozens of faces peering through the doorway, gasping in surprise. Then she saw all the cards, papers, bundles and gifts that almost filled the officers' quarters.

Alynnou shrugged. "I tried to tell them what you are really like, but they just wouldn't listen...told me that when one speaks from their heart, that person cannot lie. It has to be truth. They just wouldn't believe me when I said they were mistaken."

Ishtar struggled to sit. A chorus of cheers sounded up and down the hallways, shouts coming in through both doorways. The girl was befuddled. "Why do they call out with such rejoicing? I have done nothing at all."

Alynnou stared into Ishtar's face. "Few are the Sons of Promise that these people have seen. And none has yet to bind his or her soul to our fate...at least in the way you have. Today my race has seen Mother's prophecies begun to be fulfilled. 'Raised up from the depths below, the seed of our tormenter shall bring his own house to ruin.' You, my dear, are part of that seed, one, may I add, who is to become most prominent among your kind."

Lowering her face in shame, Ishtar sobbed, "I am an evil child! Not fit to live, am I? Nothing...I deserve nothing! Tell them to go away and find one who is. You go! More fit are you to be loved and honored...not some bitch-child like me!"

Alynnou did not respond, could not. At that moment, the crush of people at the door flooded into the small room, filling it with joyous cries of song and laughter. Dozens of hands reached out to touch this promised seed of Lowenah's. Somehow, just the presence of this child reinforced the weary, renewing faith and extinguishing doubts. It would take many days for such adoration to subside. Soon the mountain rang with the news of Ishtar's great deeds, of prophecy fulfilled, of faith restored. There was nothing else for it other than for the girl to humbly accept all the attention.

Humbly!? Ishtar!? Surprisingly, yes...at least for the most part. It was true that the child acted at times like, well, like Ishtar...spoiled, foolish, and overly important. Still, something inside the girl had changed, something the people could feel. The children of Lowenah were to suffer many more tribulations at Ishtar's hands, but somehow it would be different. She was now one with them, always would be. Somehow that would make her future rude and insolent actions more tolerable.

(Author's note: _Historians tend to overlook this event in the life of Ishtar, Queen of Memphis, either mentioning it in passing or not at all. I do believe this a serious mistake. Ishtar, herself, has confessed to those close to her that this one singular event changed, for her, the entire purpose of her life. Although she admits that it was very difficult for her to grow up and she feels it took well into Shiloh's day before she fully did, from that time forward, her one focus was to become the Sword others wished her to be._

_There would be many heartbreaks faced by this woman before she stood upon the citadel of Fortress Memphis, displaying to the world the severed head of Legion, as she declared Asotos' last holdout in the First Realm captured. Hardened as she was, the last battle for Memphis was still most troubling for her. Fought long after the King's War had ended, it was the last war of mortal combat to retake the Heavens in which there were over thirty-eight thousand casualties. It was said that she wept for days after securing the city._ )

* * *

Mihai sat quietly at the table in the Upper Palace's hidden garden. Only upon her return to Palace City had she discovered Ma-we's absence. Dismayed and depressed, the Empire's new king took up her governance in the city, aware that now she, alone, must decide the direction her people were to take. Smiling sadly, she thought of her mother and just how much she must have disappointed her.

Mihai puzzled over Anna. A woman usually eager to share her company, she had not once sought an audience since returning to EdenEsonbar. When offered a formal invitation to dine at the palace, she had feigned excuse, claiming her duties for the upcoming celebration were making her far too busy to attend. Not that she completely avoided Mihai. There was never a council meeting that Anna missed, often being more vocal than in times past. Still, as soon as the meeting ended, the woman would dash out the door, declaring the need to run some errand or other.

"There you are!" Paul's booming voice echoed across the garden as he hurried up behind Mihai, squeezing her in a most affectionate way.

Mihai reached up to touch Paul's arm while he began to gently massage her shoulders. At length, she asked, "Have you heard from the council about tonight's special meeting? I so much want to make the welcome of Shikkeron's returning memorable. As of yet, I've kept the reason for the coming celebration secret even from my council."

Paul bent down, nuzzling Mihai, caressing her neck with his lips. Working his way up to her ear, he whispered, "The meeting is so far away. Must you trouble yourself over it at this moment?"

Mihai groaned with pleasure. In a half moan, she answered, "I have noticed a coolness among my counselors, even an avoidance of me by some. I fear a distancing of them further."

Paul slowly let his massaging fingers drift off Mihai's shoulders and into her opened blouse. Mihai sighed, tipping her head back until she looked up into Paul's eyes. Continuing to pleasure her, he asked, "Is it Anna you are so concerned about? Do you miss her caresses and soft touches?"

Mihai closed her eyes, soaking in the tingling delights as one sensual rush after another coursed through her body. She slowly shook her head, replying, "Does a child yearn for bread when its mouth is filled with sweet, sweet candy? Anna is but a fading dream when I rest in your arms."

Kissing Mihai on the forehead, Paul cooed, "The council serves at the will of their king. They are there to assist you, so that you do not distance yourself from them. Would you prefer their company or mine as I explore with you your fields of jasmine and lilacs?"

Mihai swooned, "How can a doe flee the hart when the heat of passion is upon her? No sooner could I forsake your embrace when you have made me sigh, hot, with desire for your bed. Take me, please... The flowers of my fields are yours to delight in."

Standing, Mihai embraced Paul, sensually caressing him. She teased, "Are we to languish until a bed of satin sheets is found? Or should we find our romance here, in the most beautiful of all places?"

Paul smiled, "What better place is there to find love than in the garden of God?"

* * *

Anna quietly fumed when Mihai and Paul sauntered into the council chamber. Not only were they fashionably late, Mihai wore a glow that could only mean one thing to Anna...'that rat had been doing her all day'. When Mihai was in such a state, her mind paid little heed to the council's business.

Mihai quickly brought the meeting to order. As the business of the day plodded along at its usual pace, she grew more fidgety, her eyes twinkling with childlike excitement. After OfhieSanternano had finished with requests for more workers and materials to finish the DanDorf Railway Tunnel and a munitions depot – he detailing where and how all the needed stuffs were to be used – and finally sat down, Mihai moved to postpone all current and old business so new business could be addressed. All approved.

Mihai stood and began to pace, addressing the council. "As you know, some weeks ago I requested the members of this council to begin preparations for a celebration of sorts – one I have kept secret from all but a few." She glanced toward Paul. "My advisor felt it was better done this way, and I fully concur."

Anna's face clouded in disgust, but she said nothing.

Motioning to an attendant hidden in the shadows, Mihai raised a hand. "As I speak, the world is discovering what I believe will be the most powerful, morale-building weapon the Children's Empire may have acquired since this war has started...something even greater than the taking of HerpetonMnema, the Spider's Lair."

Suddenly, the excited voice of an audio broadcaster filled the room, already in mid-speech. "The imperial brigantine Shikkeron, though severely damaged and suffering heavy casualties, managed an escape into deep space. After many weeks of diligent efforts by her brave crew, the ship was repaired sufficiently to make its return voyage to EdenEsonbar. In only hours, Shikkeron and its crew will be arriving at Palace City Space Port. There our king will welcome and salute the valiant soldiers of Shikkeron."

Stunned silence! Only the announcer's voice could be heard, though no one in the room was listening.

Reaction was swift. Few applauded, several were angry, some openly so, Anna and Crilenian being the most vocal.

Crilenian stormed, his face red with anger, "So what have we become, dogs begging for scraps at the table?! Better to be a horse servant than a counselor these days! At least the stable hand knows which end to watch out for!"

OfhieSanternano stood, calling for Crilenian to apologize at once. Anna shouted angrily at Ofhie, "Shut up, you! Feed and chaff come from the same seed. Crilenian's right. Too long have we allowed our plates to be filled with chaff, while those unknowing and uncaring of our ways feast on the best of grains. We deserve an accounting. It is the right of the council!"

Paul squeezed the hand of a much-surprised Mihai, answering courteously, "Since you address me by your remarks, allow this reply..."

Anna tried to interupt but Paul's glare silenced her.

Peering into the eyes of each counselor, studying every heart, he stated, "There stands among us at this very moment a traitor. No, not just one... Shall I declare them to you all, or shall they confess their evil intent? Speak now and live or wait for the darkness to consume your hearts forever."

Beads of sweat grew on Crilenian's forehead.

Paul asked, "Do you have a word for us, Lord Crilenian?"

Crilenian stared at Paul and then at Mihai, his countenance falling. "My Lady, my King, I have wished your friend gone many times. My heart burns with a jealously never felt before these creatures arrived from the Lower Realms. Yes, I have harbored resentment and ranted to others about them, stirring up discontent among my brothers over them. Yes, I have caused you hurt by accusing you of abandoning us for them, but I did not see my soul as the traitor in your camp."

Paul stopped Crilenian. "You are a fool. Deserving of this council? That is not my call. You have damaged many a heart, making one of Lowenah's gifts to your kind foul-smelling to the very ones most needing hope. True, you have betrayed your oath of office to act as counselor in wisdom and fealty to your king, and you are truly reprehensible because of it. That aside, Crilenian, you are not a traitor."

Looking at Mihai, Paul waited. She nodded. He addressed Crilenian. "Tomorrow there will be a great celebration. Stand at your post as you have been assigned. Then, when the crowds have departed, seek the face of your king. She will decide matters then, in private." He slowly shook his head. "Troubled times create troubled minds. You will one day come to see that the people from the Realms Below do not wish to lord it over their brothers. How does the moth dare tell the eagle how to fly? We are your servants, always will be. We, born of dust, in sin, deserving nothing, ask for nothing. Be patient and let us grow up."

Paul searched the eyes of Mihai's other counselors. There were ten who were not part of the Eighty - only two besides Paul were. He asked again, "Do any of you wish to speak?"

Anna...AnamParedreuo...was the senior member and, until Paul's interference, was most prominent. Besides her and OfhieSanternano, there were four of the others who had also influenced Mihai's policy making: DornanceZaboren, KyseninaGerzion, RachialPusenttie, and DarlaRosa...not to be mistaken for Darla, Queen Adaya. All four of these counselors were Ancients, being considered by many as among the wisest of Lowenah's children. Their long-standing relationship with Mihai made it difficult for her to replace them with members of the Eighty.

KyseninaGerzion stood, motioning to speak. "I take offense at your accusations and insinuations, my Lord Paul! Never have I..." she looked around the room, "and I believe I speak for the others here...never have I acted in a treasonous way toward my king or any creature she has chosen to assist her. For too long I have accepted the humiliation cast upon me...us by your kind," she glared at Paul "when I...we have done only our best to keep this kingdom together. It has been the blood of my people who have held back the storm winds!" Then thumping her chest, she cried, belittlingly, "My kind has died for you!"

Paul said nothing.

Kysenina went on, staring at Mihai, "If my service and fealty are in question, then I will take my leave. And I suggest the others here who feel the same as I should, too!" With that, Kysenina picked up her things, stepping away from the council table.

Mihai stopped her, asking, pleading, "Must you go? You have not been accused of any wrongdoing. Paul speaks only of traitors among us. I do not believe you to be one."

Kysenina snapped back, "What of the others? He accuses them...more than one. And of Crilenian, how has he hurt you? Yet this man from forgotten lands calls him out for speaking negatively of his kind. How has he come to play lord over us at this critical hour?"

OfhieSanternano spoke up. "Kysenina, my sister, ages ago our mother whispered these things to us, for she gifted to a certain man a heritage of kingly and priestly duties for his children. Then she had it written in the Book – one that is sacred even among our people – that Mihai was to take the sons of men and deliver them here as leaders over all that was hers. And yet there is..."

Kysenina glowered at Ofhie. "Your words have soured with age. Your wine is vinegar! Anna spoke well of you, 'so as the wind blows, so the willow bends'. Don't bother me with your silly affection for these people!"

"Kysenina!" Paul's clear voice called out to her.

Kysenina stared at Paul, he searching her eyes. In those few seconds, her mind heard his thoughts. 'Kysenina, sit down! The bed of the evil one has seduced you into revolting against your king, just as it also did to Terey. The moment may have been placed in our hands, but it is only ours to share with you. Besides, the future here is not ours, for we will not find our final destiny in this realm. This world has always belonged to your kind and always will. Now sit and wait upon your king. She needs you.'

Shaken, Kysenina slowly retraced her steps and quietly sat.

Paul spoke again. "Our king chooses her council. Its coming and going is not its business, but hers. I have not advised her for or against who is good or bad, or who should stay or go. Lowenah's call was clear, and our king knows what her suggestions were, but she no longer resides in the Palace, having left us for the moment for unreachable places."

That news shocked the others present, Mihai not having informed anyone of Lowenah's leaving.

After Paul had allowed time for the gathering to calm down, he continued, "The fate of this kingdom rests on the shoulders of our king, just as it should. Now is not the time to squabble over issues that divide us, thus weakening us before our enemy. Crilenian is not a traitor, but he has not acted selflessly in the king's best interest. So it is with others of you. Yet now you all see that when I speak of traitors, I do not speak of those causing discontent and jealousies, although those alone may bring a kingdom to ruin. I am warning about those who conspire with the enemy to destroy all that your brothers and sisters continue to die for. Once again I ask, does anyone here wish to speak, for there are those here who know why I do ask such a thing."

The room remained quiet.

At length, Paul sighed, "So it shall be. I see a world of darkness waiting, its everlasting bonds already constricting what life remains within. And yet one may wish for such a fate for, when truth is revealed, what was believed will have proved false and all that has been worked for will have been in vain. The traitor shall eat its own wormwood, its master consuming its soul and heart in eternal agony." At that he sat down.

There was little else the council considered that night. When the business regarding Shikkeron was finished, most of the people quietly departed. Anna lingered, busy with an attendant over some trivial matters. After Paul immersed himself in a conversation with Ofhie and DarlaRosa, she excused herself and joined company with Mihai, who was still seated, leafing through a report recently handed her.

Walking up behind her, Anna began to softly caress Mihai's shoulders, whispering in her ear, "My Lord, can you not spare a few moments for your sister whose heart is in distress over many matters?" She squeezed her upper arms so tenderly. "The cooing dove sings sweet repose, songs your slave girl has mastered well."

Closing her eyes, Mihai leaned her head back, snuggling it between Anna's breasts, groaning with delight. Oh how wonderful an hour would be in this lady's embrace... an hour! Her eyes popped open. Paul was standing across the room, still in deep conversation. He had promised her a special night after the council ended. She pondered the moment.

Sitting upright, Mihai reached up and took Anna's hand, turning to look into her eyes. She smiled, shaking her head. "I am ever so sorry, my lovely one. Your songs are most exciting, but...but I have certain business that must be concluded this eve. Another time, maybe..." She stared longingly across the room at Paul.

Shocked, Anna stammered acceptance of the situation, excusing herself. She quickly exited, angrily cursing that 'donkey cock, Paul' under her breath. Mihai rested her head in her hands, dreamily watching Paul. And Paul? Well, he continued to chat with the others, oblivious to Anna's actions. Well, apparently oblivious, that is, except for the tiniest of smiles and lilting tone in his voice.

* * *

The morning dawned cool over Palace City. Late-night spring rains had brought a chill with them and, although the sky shone cloudless, the sun carried little strength to chase the dampness away. Regardless, crowds were filling the spaceport, occupying every available spot. Just as Mihai had predicted, the return of Shikkeron was most fortuitous, a morale builder of colossal proportions. Celebrations erupted across the Empire. Soldiers on MueoPoros lit tens of thousands of fires along the PrasiaOdous Mountain Range, lighting the night sky for three hundred leagues, while those to the south and east of Memphis set off an all-night artillery barrage in celebration.

It was a little past mid-morning when Shikkeron and her escorts settled down on the wet tarmac. Although repaired enough to withstand the rigors of reentry into EdenEsonbar's atmosphere, command had chosen to leave the remaining battle damage. Charred and blasted holes from the destroyed boiler room to the mangled and twisted gun turrets along with a stove-in hull and other related scars gave evidence of the fierce fighting the ship had contested in. When searching eyes caught sight of these things, a collective groan rose from the crowds.

All had been staged and rehearsed well, something that bothered many of the crew, including Darla and Bedan. But Ardon and Mihai would not be dissuaded, both feeling that the moment must be seized. As Ardon had reasoned in the days preceding, "There is a time for everything, including pomp and circumstance. Shikkeron has been kept hidden from all save a few for a very important reason. Reports from our king reveal that the war goes quite badly. Many colonies and star systems have fallen or are being overrun. Other than our victory on MueoPoros, there is little to celebrate. And a celebration is what our people need now the most."

Ardon's at times bombastic persuasions finally drew Major Jebbson to his side. With him on board, it took little time to convince the remaining holdouts to surrender, at least this once, to a little pageantry. Darla fumed, feeling herself acting more like a pompous ass than a colonel of the Imperial Marines. She now stood near the forward hatchway waiting for it to open, frowning, shaking her head as she waited for just the moment that would announce their arrival.

The excited crowds gradually hushed as minutes crawled by, every breath being measured as an eternity, every heartbeat an agonizing lifetime. A hush grew over the people until the spaceport, with a million eyes staring upon Shikkeron, became as quiet as the Silent Tombs. Soon all an ear could hear was riotous steam escaping the ship's exhaust vents.

"You're up, Macbeth!" Darla motioned behind her to Jebbson. "It's time for your little dirge, or, as I've heard said by some of your kind, 'It's show time!'"

Jebbson looked the part of an actor, dressed in a red plaid kilt, a black, long-sleeved blouse with a wide, red plaid scarf wrapped around his neck, and a blue officer's kepi which read, 'Fourth Ohio Mounted Grenadiers'. He grinned, stepping to the front of the hatchway, a contingent of marines and sailors queueing up behind Darla. On her signal, he lifted a strange-looking bag with protruding wooden tubes he called 'bagpipes', placing the end of one in his mouth. He blew hard, inflating the bag with air. The bag sprung to life with a cacophony of squeaks and squeals.

With a ' _hiss_ ' and a ' _clack_ ', the huge belly ramp released its locks and ever so slowly opened out and down. The shrill, sad, sweet refrains of a Scotsman's bagpipe chilled the air, casting foreboding onto the hearts of all present. A shiver even ran up Darla's back as she listened to Jebbson play his rendition of a popular Second Realm tune, though little known among her people at the time. The melody of 'Amazing Grace' can move a heart to tears, and this day it did so. As the ramp gradually descended, the crowd braced itself for coming events.

After reaching the tarmac, Jebbson stepped to the side of the exit ramp, allowing room for a color guard to pass him by, followed by Captain Bedan and the remaining ship's officers. Then it was Colonel Darla's turn. She and her Marine officers, along with Major Ardon, filed down the ramp and gathered in a line opposite, facing Bedan and his officers. Jebbson paused for but a moment. The wait was oppressive.

Wailing refrains began anew. As Jebbson played, there emerged a sergeant-at-arms and a midshipman, both carrying their respective colors. Behind them by twos advanced the crew, sailors on the right and marines on the left. Those in the lead each carried a small cedar chest, representing a life lost from the crew of Shikkeron or those Imperial Marines who died on Exothepobole. The long line passed between the saluting officers, every crewmember stoically looking forward. One hundred thirty-seven chests, including one for Tashi, were solemnly carried through the crowd toward the king's reviewing stand.

The sound of bagpipes abruptly ended when the last sailor stopped before Captain Bedan. Saluting, she shouted, "All present and accounted for, Captain!"

Bedan saluted, his voice cracking, "You may stand down the ship!"

After saluting back, the sailor hurried to catch up with the others.

Immediately following this, another naval officer and her small contingent of sailors advanced from the crowd, marching in order until reaching Captain Bedan. The officer saluted. "Captain ErmaTailsonConbeittee of the Palace City Port Authority... Do you wish me to take charge of your ship, Captain?"

Saluting again, Bedan expressed his approval. "The imperial brigantine Shikkeron – the Phoenix raised from the Underworld – I place in your hands for safe keeping. Care for it well until its officers and crew request it back from your hand." With that, he exchanged parchments of receivership, also handing over to Captain Erma a copy of the ship's log.

Captain Erma saluted and departed, she and her crew taking up guard around Shikkeron. Bedan ordered his officers forward and to the right, following behind the ship's crew. As Bedan's officers moved forward, Darla's marines did the same, falling in line on the left. Jebbson, taking up the rear, struck up with one parting tune of his own making, "Wishful Passing", the crowd pressing close behind.

Captain Bedan and the others were still some distance away from the reviewing stand, the sailors and marines already standing at attention in their respective positions when a huge naval band struck up with the tune "Cold Supper". The jaunty music acted like a trigger for the pent-up energy of the crowd. A thunderous roar and applause rippled across the spaceport. Again and again, the people shouted, nearly drowning out the band. Then came tears...tears of joy and emotion, as the viewers watched men and women of Shikkeron pick up their tempo, marching to the beat of the music.

The band stopped playing shortly after all the officers were at attention in front of the reviewing stand. Mihai stood. All the officers saluted, the men also bowing. Bedan, Ardon, Darla, and Jebbson stepped forward in front of the other officers. One by one, a roll was called. After each name was given, a crewmember carrying a chest advanced, stopping before Mihai. The name would be repeated, followed by, "(Person's name) has served our king to the full limit. Request permission that (person's name) be given rest in the Silent Tombs until the horn is blown and all souls rise."

Mihai would bow her head, nodding acceptance, replying, "Loyalty is a love song written on the heart. Should all the future days bring glory to (person's name), it would be paltry payment for (his/her) sacrifice." She would then motion the chest be placed on a motorized caisson, one for each chest. The caisson would then pull away, surrendering its space to another.

This drama played on throughout the rest of the morning, but no one tired of it. Ardon had been correct. Lowenah's children needed this day. Six thousand years of violence and war had beaten them down, and the current desperate hour was rapidly devouring them. Shikkeron's return from the Abyss was the greatest of miracles for, in the eyes of all living, the ship and crew had long ago dissolved into little more than cosmic dust. Like savoring a fragrant wine or a loving embrace, no one wished to hurry this day.

By late morning, clouds began clearing and the cool, damp breeze warmed. As the last of the caissons queued up waiting the trip to the Silent Tombs, Mihai addressed the crew and officers of Shikkeron and those accompanying them.

Mihai was a good orator of speech and the romantic. Her words reached deep into the hearts of the entire crowd. She wove each sentence, each sound, each tone into a sweet, sad tapestry portraying the sacrifice and toil of the valiant crew of the gallant ship, Shikkeron. Few eyes remained dry as the tale of the courageous midshipman, who stood her post until death, was recounted with passion and remorse. For half an hour she continued, only halting to introduce yet another speaker.

As good as Mihai was at haunting speech, there was still another person of far greater renown, a troubadour par excellence, the master of "Red Ocean Red", QuinshoNixoTheion, the Poet Divine to the ages come and gone. This man was invited to the stage to share the account of Shikkeron and its many adventures. For nearly an hour he recounted the glory of the battle, from Shikkeron's first turning to engage a far superior force down to Ardon's cry, 'You cannot destroy the Phoenix!' When he triumphantly shouted those words, the crowd roared its approval, many repeating and crying them out.

After Quinsho finished, Jebbson played anew "Wishful Passing", accompanied by a choir singing the lyrics. The sad, sweet refrains filled with remorse and rebirth silenced the crowd long after Jebbson finished. At length, Mihai again stood, addressing the ship's company.

(Author's note: _Yes, Quinsho lived up to his reputation of being such a great orator. But the history books do not detail his account, it being far overshadowed by the lyrics of Jebbson's song, written to Darla while she convalesced aboard Shikkeron in the early days after the battle. So powerful has it become that to this day it is widely known and sung, though with varied lyrics. You may wonder at ever hearing "Wishful Passing", but I am certain you know the words to "Silver Shadows". Here are the original lyrics._

" _I touched the warmth of Death's will passing,_

The furrowed brow of life resigned.

Too much! Too much! Her heart is fighting,

No strength of will can it now find.

She walks the roads of scarlet worlds,

Of demon throngs and Devil's seed.

Finding truth in silver shadows,

While love is lost and souls redeemed.

Arise! Arise! Oh maiden divine,

God's gift to all of living kind.

Chill the spirits of those uncaring,

By your songs of passion so sweet, sublime.

" _I touched the warmth of Death defeated,_

The heated breath of new resolve.

With serpent's eyes, I am new created,

To bring a finish to the cruel and proud."

With the growl of beasts and lion's fangs,

She lifts a dirge to the jackal's crowd.

" _The blood of princes and the flesh of rabble,_

Shall be my food til' the world does drown."

Arise! Arise! Oh maiden divine,

God's gift to all of living kind.

Walk the fields of darkness while the night still lasts,

Love you'll find with morning's bright repast.)

After praising the crew and officers for their gallant deeds, she turned her attention to one person in particular. "My brothers and sisters who have shared with me in the blood of war, many are the acts of selfless bravery and sacrifice we have seen on the battlefield... and many more there have been that no other eye did see or soul survived to tell tale of. Today I wish to right one of those wrongs and give honor to a soldier extraordinaire!

"There stands among us a knight of such valor that greats songs such as the one written by our Major Jebbson cannot begin to fully give glory to. My brothers and sisters, allow this one account to suffice for the moment, for the day is quickly escaping as time does not exist before night to tell all the tales. Give an ear, please, to the inadequate words I will use.

"How sad a fate befell our comrades on the fields of Memphis in the last Great War. The flower of our army withered against the advancing foe that day, many to die most horrible deaths. But for the bravery of a lowly officer, an acting courier, our loss would certainly have been far worse than it was. We may well have even lost the war.

"Our army was trapped in the valley with but one means of escape, and Legion's forces were rapidly closing in on it. The cavalry was too distant to prevent them from reaching the north passage first, thus sealing the fate of all on that valley floor. There rose against the advancing rabble this lone officer and a few of her fellows, standing the frozen ridge above the torn and blistered plain.

"With a battle cry and trumpet blasts, this officer cried out to others who might listen and come to stand with her. At length, with only eighty others, the charge was ordered and into the valley they rode.

"Like crazed beasts the company attacked, driving back the enemy. Not once or twice, but three times altogether they regrouped and charged their foe, the officer finally bringing down the enemy commander as her companions fought to the death around her. Of the eighty, fewer than ten survived to tell of the heroic deeds. Alas, those deeds went unrecorded, lost to the winsome fates of war...lost, that is, until this day. Today, honor is to be given where it has long been due!"

Mihai raised her hand, pointing, her voice just below a shout, "Colonel Adaya Darla of the Imperial Marines, stand to before your king!"

Surprised and embarrassed, Darla stepped out from the line, stopping in front of Mihai, saluting and snapping to attention.

Mihai rested her hands on the rail in front of her. Looking down at Darla, she began, "Long have you dwelt in silence while others around you received glory for great deeds done. This wrong will not continue.

"There exists a world that lies beyond this universe and to it only have a few ventured. Only in my visions have I seen this place and that but for fleeting moments. Yet to you has it been granted to walk with our Fathers of old, to see and touch what mortal men can only dream about. Colonel Adaya Darla, Queen of the Darkness and of the Blood, long may your glory shine as a beacon for all men loving the freedom given them by our Mother. I kneel before you in humble admiration of your loyal deeds and sacrifices."

Before an astonished and stunned audience, especially Darla, Mihai stepped down from the reviewing stand, walking around front until she faced the colonel. Reaching out and taking her hands and kneeling, Mihai looked up and into Darla's surprised and troubled face, calling out, " Queen of the Night, Daughter of Darkness and Mother of Light, I thank you for all your sacrifices you have made in the name of our cause, but truly out of love for our Mother. I praise you and give glory to the maiden of this universe."

Darla burst into tears, crying, "No, my Lord!" She pulled at Mihai to stand, tears streaming down her face. "I am but your servant girl, your little sister, child of despair!"

Mihai stood and both women clutched each other in an iron embrace. Darla's chin rested on Mihai's shoulder, the woman's sunshades falling from her face as she wept. Mihai rocked her companion, softly cooing,

" _Little sister of the sun and moon,_

My praise to you comes none too soon.

Tomorrow you will come to see

What your glory and your fate will be."

She repeated it several more times, until Darla stopped her weeping.

Finally standing back, Darla adjusted her wrinkled uniform and, squinting, saluted, addressing Mihai, "Colonel Adaya Darla of the Imperial Royal Marines receives your praise and glory in the name of all my brothers and sisters who have fallen by my side in order that I may live to this day. They deserve all these good gifts, for they have proved themselves to the limit. I... I still wait upon my own fate and what it shall deliver to me."

Mihai smiled, gripping Darla's shoulders. "I expected to hear little else. I accept your conditions, with my blessings." At that moment, the band struck up with "ArioPasNaus"..."Away All Ships"...the Marines' marshaling song.

Amid the wild cheering of the crowd and overpowering music, Mihai returned the salute and then, before leaving, picked up Darla's sunshades, handing them back to her. Darla grinned a 'thank you', exposing her oversized canines.

The remote-controlled motion image machines' lenses whirred, zooming in close upon Darla's face as she thanked her king and slowly put in place her sunshades. People across star systems viewing the events at the spaceport all could see the changes Asotos' demon had made in the woman. For one person in particular, it was most disconcerting, even terrifying.

Godenn, sitting in his private lounge aboard his personal battle cruiser, stared aghast. Leaning forward for a better look, he paled and cried, "It does live! The Therioskotia does live! See! See! They publicly give it glory! _Arghhh!_ What evil does this forebode?!" At that, he hopped from his chair and, in a waddling run, hurried toward his inner chambers, clutching his head, screaming in terror, "Therioskotia! Therioskotia!"

Mihai's command car led the motorcade from the spaceport through Palace City and out the western gates until they reached the Silent Tombs. Thousands followed close behind and later joined in the funeral celebration. There was a great burning of remembrance for the souls of those interred, the blaze symbolizing the 'fire of the heart' of the fallen warrior, the rising smoke a symbol of the warrior's spirit leaving for the Web of the Minds. The wailing and outcries lasted well into the morning hours with some, Darla and Mihai included, still grieving after the sun rose the following day. Such were the ways of the children of Lowenah in those dark, foreboding times.

Elsewhere, as the evening hours filled the streets with darkness, two cloaked figures exited a tiny apartment onto a narrow lane on Palace City's east side. The two gently kissed after which Captain Joleck's voice could be heard, whispering, "It is well that our dear colonel has such caring servants surrounding her, otherwise this news you say I delivered might have come too late, much to her harm."

The other person lifted a hand, softly caressing the captain's shoulder, whispering a reply. "You have done your brothers such a great service. What you say of this colonel, what you have revealed and... and this letter from Leftenant Ilanit, well... well, you will never know just how important a service you have provided."

Joleck tenderly grasped the person's hand. "You have such a gentle touch. Long shall I remember this night and my hours spent in your care. I must tell the colonel about you. She would do well to spend some carefree time in your arms."

The person patted Joleck, "Yes, yes, our final meeting has been rewarding for both body and mind. This Darla I must get to know better, but you have already told me so much about her, much more than you could comprehend." Then stepping back and looking in both directions, the person added, "The hour is late. You must go. The Fates await your future. Congratulations on your new commission. You have earned it."

Joleck reached under the drawn hood, affectionately touching the person's face, smiling, offering her goodbyes. "Thank you. It has been so good to see you again. I shall think of you often...often."

"And I shall you." The person motioned Joleck's leave. "Now remember, it is better to keep this meeting our secret."

Joleck smiled and hurried away.

It took some time to find a ride to Palace City Space Port, Joleck finally getting one from a late duty courier. It was well past midnight when she arrived at her shuttle, her crew having become anxious. In only two hours, the new, imperial brigantine, Haisely, was to depart for the Hindly Page on a secret mission. 'Deep space and radio silence'. Already, Joleck's heart raced with excitement.

As she settled into her seat aboard the shuttle, Joleck noticed that her bejeweled dagger was missing. She fussed about it to another officer, but finally shrugged, saying there was nothing for it now, even though it had been a special parting gift from Captain Asarel.

Soon the captain could see Haisely through a nearby portal. In nervous anticipation, Joleck watched the shuttle draw close. As she waited to board the first ship under her command, the captain felt a growing discomfort in her lower abdomen. Rubbing her belly, she commented to an officer, "Funny how your body can get the jitters at such exciting times."

* * *

"Oh, I am sick...so sick!" Nazareth groaned in distress as she attempted to sit, swallowing hard, forcing bile back down her throat. "My dear, death was sweeter to me than what I face now! Life is no friend at the moment."

James cradled his mother gently, encouraging her to rest a little more. She shook her head, moaning in pain. No words could persuade her to stay in her sickbed. For too long had the fleet been leaderless as far as she was concerned. "Besides," the woman argued, "this sickness won't kill me...just make me wish I was dead again." After a fearsome struggle with her clothes, every movement an excruciating experience, Nazareth left her cabin. With James assisting her, she slowly made her way to the command bridge.

"Commodore!?" An excited and bewildered Captain UnoffFae who was acting commodore at the moment, saluted, hurrying forward to greet his commanding officer. Seeing her condition, he suggested, "Commodore Nazareth, it is not good for you to be here. Let us go, please, to your cabin and we can conduct business there."

Nazareth motioned in the negative, almost falling into his arms as he approached. She cried, "A chair, please! A chair will do..." Eventually the commodore was seated at the chart table with elbows resting on its surface, her hands holding her head.

Captain Xenia was describing the current condition of the Dredges Battle Group. "As per your request, CortneyBay from the Dredges Battle Group II has joined us, patrolling off to our north, Q-north and east. Captain KeilSaffron is keeping her remaining division of WolfPack Marauders shadowing enemy movement in and out of the CastenRill Star System. But I must inform you, Captain Keil's Marauders composed mainly of howkers and ketches took heavy losses and is down by half its strength, making it unlikely they will be able to take on a determined enemy attack."

Nazareth painfully moaned, asking, "What's our total complement?"

Captain Xenia looked down at the chart table, bringing up the needed data. It was not good. "We're down by forty percent from our initial strength, Commodore. Losses were bad enough, but damaged ships have hurt us worse. As you know, we have no refitting depots within three weeks' hard running from here. Some of the severely damaged ships we are cannibalizing to maintain continued operation of the fleet. Other battle-damaged ships able to make it on their own to the Stargaton depots have since departed.

"Then..." Xenia tapped the table, "then we have a number of ships converted to hospital and repair stations, including Cortney Bay and Chisamore. It looks to me that we have fewer than twenty of our mainline ships – the Dredges – and less than one hundred of our Marauders ready for active service."

She looked at Nazareth, smiling. "At least most of our new Gadfly and Mosquito WolfPack Marauders survived unscathed. They're something else! Never saw something so tiny kick ass as good as those things! Wish we had a thousand of 'em!"

Rubbing her forehead, Nazareth asked Captain Xenia if they had received a communiqué from Commodore General Sarah Cnidus.

Xenia confirmed, "Gave us orders to move out three hours ago. 'Press the enemy with all perseverance, but use caution and wisdom. Harass enemy fleet over Pilneser. Make contact with our resistance fighters if at all practicable. SymeonKephim and ChuntayKrauge are among those leading there'."

Raising her eyebrows, Nazareth looked at James. "Seems like your cousin has tired of diplomatic councils."

Xenia continued, "If we secure contact, we're supposed to set up a supply service for them." She tapped the side of her head as if recalling something. "Oh, yes, if possible, the commodore general says we're supposed to destroy all remaining cities or structures of worth on Pilneser...you know, dams, power systems, shipping and transportation systems and the like. Use whatever means are at our disposal."

Frowning, the commodore asked, "So the planet's been taken?"

Xenia responded, "Mostly, other than for our resistance fighters...some thousands, I suppose. They'll make it hot for Asotos. Already carried out a scorched earth policy on much of the planet."

"What of our other colonies? Have we any news?" Nazareth wondered.

Xenia answered, "It isn't good. We are falling back across the Empire. Asotos has shoved his entire military machine into action, using up most of his navy to do it. Stargaton was pretty bad hammered, but it's holding. Looks like they don't have plans for an invasion. Good news is the Hindly Page and other local jump portals are safe for now. Admiral NikaoEimi's Hindly Page armada ripped the shit out of Asotos' Stargaton fleet, scattering smoldering hulks across three star systems."

Nazareth smiled, "You do have a way with words, Captain. So should we pull our damaged ships back from Stargaton? Will they be safe to refit there?"

Captain Xenia offered, "We're safe for the moment. Besides, we have no other shipyards in this region. This is a lonely place we're at, very lonely."

Unoff interrupted. "Another thing, Commodore, Admiral Tizkertinah is hoping to rendezvous with the Dredges soon. She's making her way through the CastenRill Asteroid Field as we speak. Her ships were torn up badly...lost a lot of people. Her hope is to join up with us until she can make repairs and return to the Trizentine."

Nazareth ordered, "Send out our flankers to join up with her fleet, or what's left of it. We'll give her whatever she needs of what we have." The woman leaned back, taking James' hand, muttering, "We pushed our enemy this day and won. But he will return, renewed, strengthened, and refreshed. We then must take him on again...and again... and again..." Closing her eyes, she sighed, an inner fatigue showing, "Shall the world forever burn?"

With much effort, and James' assistance, Nazareth stood, issuing commands. "Tell Captain Keil to maintain her vigil, watching over the CastenRill Star System. Have her expand her patrols east and north, Q-north, out into the channel. I know it will not be easy for her but for the moment her ships are our eyes in the quadrant."

Pointing at Captain Xenia, she ordered, "Captain MushangeGee is to make for Pilneser with his Marauders. At least his ships are mainly of the Gadfly class. Provide him with some of our thermo-nuclear static warheads. Give him carte blanche in his decision-making on when to use them and how to contact our people. He's on his own until he hears further from us."

She then looked at Captain Unoff. "Prepare to get up steam in twenty-four hours. We will take whatever sound ships remain from Battle Group I along with Excalibur and CortneyBay from Battle Group II. We will make haste for the Outer Corridor. I fear there is great need for our presence in that arena, at least for the moment. The remainder of the fleet along with Admiral Tizkertinah's ships are to lay up in the CastenRill Asteroid Field. It's as safe a place as any for us to make repairs."

Squinting as she rubbed her head, Nazareth added, "Twenty-four hours should see me in better condition to lead this group. Already I can feel the veil of blindness departing."

Taking James' hand, the two left the command bridge. Once out of earshot, Nazareth nervously turned to James, whispering, "Our doom may well await us in the Outer Corridor. A dark wall of dread covers my heart, yet the music of Fate calls me ever on to do its will. Without Tolohe's powers clear in my mind, I do not see the dangers we will be approaching. The battle has severely damaged me. Long will it be before my soul will be fully healed. That I came to realize only a little while ago. I can never deliver my powers in twenty-four hours...not by myself."

Squeezing James' hand, she added hesitatingly, the fear of rejection in her speech, "I need you tonight. For the sake of all good things, I have need of your mind and soul... your strength. Will you make a covenant with me this day?" She looked back over her shoulder and then into James' eyes, pleading, "If not for me, then for all of them?"

James cupped his mother's hand in his, nodding, "You are my life and breath. Are we not already one? If that is so, why does such a little thing trouble my soul? I have pondered it and say, 'The world shall never burn as brightly as our hearts will'". He kissed her. "As one, we will seek the Dragon...one in soul, heart, and flesh."

Nazareth nestled her head in James' chest while tears fell. "Thank you...thank you..."

* * *

General NoazOhfehr paced back and forth across the room with his hands clasped behind his back, slowly shaking his head. For most of an hour, General Winehardt had been pushing him to release Alba into her company, Noaz arguing the major's injuries were too severe to allow her return to combat duty.

"My dear Noaz," General Winehardt continued, "the woman's up and about, frustrating the entire medical department with her constant requests to be released and returned to her regiment. I'm not recommending such rigors be placed upon her. All I'm suggesting is you put her on my staff for awhile."

Noaz stopped pacing, turned and resting his hands on his desk, stared into the general's eyes. "Look, Mattie, you and I go back a long way with this Rebellion...all the way to the Second Megiddo War. You're a good commander. That's why I asked for you to lead one of my divisions in this campaign. But at times you're too headstrong for your own good. And you tend to push others beyond their limits. Major Alba has been through more in six months than you and I went through in the first war. She needs a break or she might crack." He stood back, looking at a map on the wall. "Besides, she's blind...blinded by a mortar round. Doctors tell me she won't see again for years, maybe decades, and that's only if we can get her to one of our healing machines."

Mattie stood, facing Noaz. "That girl can see better than you or I. Besides, what she may lack in vision she makes up for elsewhere. She feels things, smells them or senses them in ways that only the most ancient of our kind can. And I have heard tales that she can call out to the sky and earth to make the world change."

Noaz spun around, his curiosity piqued. "What are you about?!"

Mattie answered, "There's a certain Lieutenant Kfir been around to see me...at my request, of course. Strange fellow, may I add. It took some doing, but I finally found out he's an Ancient, goes way back to the age of the Tarezabarians. He won't say much about himself, keeps plenty hidden. But he's taken a shine to that Alba woman and won't let her out of his sight. Asked him why he never advanced up the ranks like the others of his kind...the Ancients, I mean. He said he liked it better being with the enlisted. Wouldn't talk anymore about it. Now that, alone, is curious, to say the least. But what he told me about Major Alba knocked me for a loop. Remember that battle on the ice a little bit ago, when the clouds opened up to reveal a harvest moon?"

Noaz answered, "Yes, go on."

Mattie continued, "Lieutenant Kfir told me in confidence that Major Alba...a captain then...called out to the sky just before that happened."

"Coincidence!" Noaz argued.

The woman disagreed. "And the battle of the Tendian Forrest where the major was wounded? Well, Lieutenant Kfir said that Major Alba sounded the alarm, telling Colonel Xurao there were several squadrons of enemy airships coming, that the enemy army was on the move, and where it was. And that was before our radar picked up any sign of an attack. Then, when that VoshanShar crashed outside our lines, Kfir said Major Alba created a blizzard by calling out strange words to the sky, rescuing the crew."

Noaz interrupted, "Does she know about the colonel yet?"

Mattie sadly nodded. "About a week ago... News reached Kfir about then. He felt he had to tell her. Took it well, I think."

Noaz was about to return to earlier matters when there came a knock on his door. He called the person to enter.

"Er, excuse me, I'm sorry." Alba began to back out of the room, starting to close the door behind her.

"No! No!" Noaz countered. "Major, come in. Please come in."

Ghostly gray eyes moved back and forth between Mattie and Noaz. There was no focus in them, but one could tell Alba knew who was in the room and exactly where they were. "I came as quickly as I could, General Ofher. I was at the far end of the terminal, helping with the inventory."

"Inventory?" Noaz quizzed. "And just what inventory do you speak of?"

Alba kindly answered, "Small arms ordnance, Sir. In the rush of things, it often gets mixed up. We have so many calibers, you know. We have to separate the ammunition so that each combat unit gets what it needs."

The general harrumphed. Raising his hand, he asked, "Major, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Right away, Alba seized upon what Noaz was doing, smiling. "Sir, you have but one finger up. The other is your thumb." She went on quickly. "You also have not fixed the button on your cuff, and your kerchief is several days since cleaning. One shoe lace is not properly tied to military specifications. Your hair has not been tended to this day and..."

"That's quite enough, Major." Noaz turned and sat, asking Alba to do the same. "I get the picture. I get the picture. How did you know I wanted to see you? Are you clairvoyant, too?"

Mattie interrupted, "That was my doing, General. I asked her to join us here. Didn't tell the major why."

With wrinkled brow, Noaz eyed Mattie. "So you have set me up, have you? Well, well...I expect payment for this, you know."

Mattie winked. "Yes, Sir, I understand."

Alba's face flushed red, she still not used to such open flirtation among Lowenah's children. Observing, Noaz pretended to clear his throat. "Ahem...now back to business."

Noaz first studied Alba's appearance: medium build, striking, sun-blonde hair, straight-bridged nose and sharp jaw-line. He mused to himself just how beautiful her formerly sky-blue eyes must have looked before they were destroyed. The reconstructive surgery at least gave the woman eyes of ghostly gray, a thin veneer covering heavily scarred orbs. The general didn't realize that Alba was hearing his thoughts.

He then considered Mattie. It wasn't her given name, but one taken by the general during the Three Hundred Years War. That, though, was another story for another day. The woman was far different than her name implied. Mattie was once demure, but now wiry tough, hardened so to war that she rarely considered herself a woman...just a soldier. It was her duty. Gaunt, looking from all appearances near starvation, the woman was all muscle with the fighting skills to utilize that strength. Mattie was not easily pacified nor quickly dissuaded.

Finally looking up at Alba, he asked, "What shape are you really in, Major? And don't fib."

Alba puzzled, "I don't lie General...didn't, don't and won't. But I will tell you how I see matters and in the way it will benefit me. Do you still wish for me to tell you what shape I'm in?" She quickly added, "And my eyes were strikingly beautiful and I do miss seeing this world through them."

Noaz was taken aback, but he did not falter. "No, that will not be necessary. But tell me please, Major, it is said that you can speak to the elements and they obey."

Alba smiled. "Sir, I do not know who I am or what I am about. My mind sees words and I speak them and the wind gathers itself to me. How I do it I do not know, but it gathers strength even now as I speak. All things I can see as if naked before me. Even the termite chewing on your desk I am able to hear and see. Yet how or why, I do not know."

"Hmm..." General Noaz rubbed his bearded chin. "Should I ask this Lieutenant Kfir? Maybe he will provide me some answers."

Alba frowned. "Kfir is my mentor and teacher in the ways of this world. But he, too, marvels at the things I can do. He is a secretive man, keeping to himself what he wishes to keep, guarding his sanctuary of the mind behind vaulted steel doors. I will tell you this. Something has reawakened in your world, something that slept for many long ages. It lurks in the shadows, waiting the coming hour..." She paused a moment. "No, that hour has already passed. Soon these secrets will be better understood, but not from my lips or Kfir's. A new lord arises, a man born of flesh, demons and gods. He, himself, will tell you.

Wonder grew on Alba's face as she recalled an earlier night. "Sir, just some days ago, I dreamed a dream. Three people rode upon a frozen, windswept plain, their destiny distant mountains far to the north of Memphis. In my dream, I heard words strange and terrifying and I saw a woman – one of the three - beautiful and frightened. And all the world was searching for her. For good or ill, I could not tell.

"As the people faded into the gathering fog, I heard a voice behind them call out to me, 'The sword that is dead shall live, and the man from of old shall make her new. But should the woman falter, then all will be lost. The north is cold, but heated battle shall arise upon its heights'. Sir, I believe a man born of flesh, demons and gods wields the very sword of which that voice spoke. He will set matters straight."

Noaz shuddered. "Do your words bode ill or well for us, my Lady? I see that, among your other powers, that of seer you currently possess. Tell me, are your words for our blessing or malediction?"

Alba's heart pained, feeling the ache and concern in Noaz's. She spoke tenderly but was frank. "My General, lord of this land, what one reaps they have sown – neither more nor less. Your kind failed to see the future, though for some it was their possession. The price is to become the servant to the lowliest of all living kind. That hour has arrived. A new age has come, one that will revive and destroy, bring life and death. It is an age to be ruled by men and immortals."

Humbly, Alba bowed. "My Lord Noaz, no man of your kind can win this war, at least not by your own hand. Your kind must come to realize that your hearts are too soft to do all the things that must be done. If you – your kind – continued this war unaided, you would become more like our king of old, Saul, who refused to bring to ruin all that was to be. Like all your other wars you have fought, you would not be able to bring this one to a finish either."

Noaz' face reddened, more from hurt feelings than anger.

"My Lord," Alba pleaded, "please do not become angry with me. I speak words of truth, words your mother has tried to speak. By her own prophets she confessed this need. By the very man who heals your own people it was recorded."

"I know. I know," Noaz fussed. "But it still hurts to hear your speech. The blood of my kind has soaked the Heavens fighting for this cause. There remain many thousands maimed in body and mind who gave their all in earlier wars, our healing machines not able to hasten their cure. And now you tell me what my heart has long spoken, but you say these things aloud, revealing these naked truths to all the world. It hurts to hear what you say, even though it is the truth."

Alba stretched out her hands in respectful gesture. "My Lord, it is not the fault of your kind that this has come to be. That is why, long ago, your mother – my God – purposed our presence in your world. We – my kind – are the very spawn of the Devil, raised by the demons, and destined for death and destruction. Yet, we are also born of God, raised into the light, and lifted up with powers extraordinaire.

"We are creatures of our forebears, with the blood of all gods - good and evil - flowing in our veins. Who among your kind would consider it a gift to be given a weapon to smash the heads of your enemies? Yet for my kind, many have been the dreams of that day fulfilled. Even to our nursing young have we sung songs of slaughter and war. We are the Progeny of Destruction, come to rid this world of evil, but with our own brand of evil to do it. It has been our gift promised, given us by your mother."

Feeling his growing jealousy draining his countenance, Noaz waved Alba silent. He slowly paced back and forth across the room, pondering. Pride...was it not pride that led his brother into treachery and murder? Was it not pride that had brought the very universe into peril? And were not pride and jealousy two sisters, both seeking the destruction of a moral heart?

Noaz paused a moment. His face reddened in shame when fully realizing what his heart was doing. He eyed Alba, sorrow and anger in his voice. "Colonel, you have the ability to bring out the best and the worst in a person. I find a fire burning within my chest, filling me with the desire to strike you, cursing you and all your kind."

He waved his hand again. "Fear not. Fear not. I will not harm you. I have just now begun to understand why you have been sent to us. As you say, our hearts are not ready for the destiny this war delivers. I...I am not angry with you. I am angry with myself."

Alba cocked her head, pondering the general. No one spoke, waiting upon her reaction. Pushing her old taboos aside, she asked, "My Lord, please, answer me. So, have you ever shared the dreams of a woman from my world?"

Noaz stared at Alba, shaking his head. "Few of your kind do I even know. You people are so strange to me. We have the same flesh, speak the same speech, but you are so strange, so strange."

Alba stepped forward, taking Noaz' hand. "My Lord, I have come to you this day to seek my dream, that of which I have spoken. Yet how can you judge my needs if you cannot see my mind and heart? Long have I waited for this hour. Long have I waited to satisfy my wrath for the murder of the ones I loved. Share with your servant girl an hour, a night. Allow her to share with you her heart. Come and see that we are not so different than you might believe." She let go his hand. "Then tomorrow decide whether to return me to command."

Noaz lowered his head, closing his eyes. "My Lady, your wisdom speaks far beyond your years. Teach me, please, your ways so that I, too, may come to knowledge."

At that, Mattie stood. "Well, General, I believe you have special business to attend to. Tomorrow morning I shall return to seek an answer to my request." She grinned at Alba, speaking to Noaz, "I believe you will discover what I have already discerned. This woman is a force to be reckoned with."

* * *

A chill ran down the woman's spine. "Brrrrr..." she groaned, sensing the cold stone pressing against her sweaty skin. Then the woman drifted back into a dream world of shadows and mist.

"Daisho..." a voice whispered. Daisho's eyes popped open as she cried out in pain, staring into a bright light.

A gentle hand covered her orbs to shade them. Again, there came a whispering voice. "My daughter, wake."

Gradually the hand drew away, allowing Daisho's eyes time to adjust to her surroundings. Soon they focused on the person speaking. "Who? Who are you? Where am I?" Fear gripped her, thinking she might be in one of Legion's prisons.

"Your father..." the person replied, "Ysuah, your father."

Daisho frowned. "I have no father! Born from the life force of but one am I as are all my brothers and sisters. What riddle are you telling me? And who are you, really?"

Ysuah laughed. "Sit up, my child." He took her hand, pulling her up. "Renew acquaintance with old traveling companions."

Daisho glanced up to see Treston and Sirion. Treston stepped forward, reaching out for Daisho's hand. "My... my... my dear, it is so good to see you again."

Daisho blinked in surprise. "Again?! Why do you speak so? And why do you look so different and not smell of the trail and...and where am I?"

Sirion stepped up beside Treston. "The City of the Gods, my sister...EpipHaneia, in the secret lands far north of Memphis beyond the pass of Korteniaz."

Staring at Sirion, Daisho's face filled with surprise and slowly changed to dismay. She sadly whimpered, tears filling her eyes, "Then I am died and now dream in the Web of the Minds, for I see my sister healed, if this truly is my sister, with two good eyes, but changed to those of a beast, and a voice coarse and harsh. It is really you, Patch? " She lowered her head and began crying.

Sirion smiled and said, "Yes, it is me..."

Sirion, in much the same way as her younger sister, Darla, had been changed by the war waged against the demons in her mind. Though not as serpentine as Darla's, the girl's eyes were strangely animal in appearance and her front teeth were much more canine in shape. The girl's platinum-blonde, downy, body hair was now 'silky fur', as Treston called it.

Author's note... _Sirion had also acquired a heightened desire for romantic intimacy to the point of distraction, telling me in her own words, "I felt like a creature in a constant state of heat.")_

But most noticeable was the change in Sirion's voice. She could no longer sing with the haunting lilt so much coveted by her people. Her voice was now guttural, coarse and harsh, something most troubling to her.

Leaning forward, Ysuah gently stroked Daisho's long auburn locks, asking, "My daughter, why does the Web of the Minds bother you so? Is it not a place of rest and refreshment until all the world is made new for one's returning?"

Daisho shook her head as she shed more tears. "A moth desires not the cocoon, no matter how great the outside dangers may be. It seeks a destiny that needs be fulfilled. Its whole life is consumed by it. Death it does not fear, but the failure of satisfying that destiny. That is what it fears...what I fear."

Leaning close, while continuing to tenderly fondle her hair, Ysuah softly asked, "What is that destiny of which you speak?"

Looking into his searching eyes, Daisho answered, "To see this war to its finish. To stand on the mountain at the sounding of the final trumpet and to say that I saw it through to the world's ending and beyond, to see the new dawn rising and, by my own strength, having helped it become so."

Ysuah grinned and gripping Daisho by her upper arms declared, "And shall it be as you have wished!"

Blinking back her tears, Daisho sadly moaned, "How is that so?"

Still grinning, Ysuah kindly chided the child. "Little one, you surprise me. You have not been hiding in a room, have you? Well you should know there is no conscious thought in the Web of the Minds. Only one standing among us here has rested there..." he pointed at Treston, "and remembers nothing of it. Only after one returns from that place can the lessons learned there be remembered and that only as added knowledge, not through recall of events."

Ysuah cupped Daisho's face in his hands. "My daughter, a child so precious to me, you have journeyed these many days with me far beyond the Web of the Minds. Into the very lands of the Immortals have I taken you, leaving your body here in this sanctuary to be healed of its terrible injuries. Still, never did you see death, but changed you have become."

"Then how do I live?" Daisho asked, wide-eyed. "For all the children know that EpipHaneia is the magical city of the Cherubs. Only one who is called by the Immortals can stand its gate and not be forever changed."

"Hmmm..." Ysuah thought a moment, speaking aloud to himself. "Forever changed? Hmmm..." He winked, "You're right. All who enter the gates of EpipHaneia are forever changed."

Sweeping his arm in Treston's and Sirion's direction, Ysuah continued, "Your traveling companions have changed. And so have many, many others, but not in ways easily noticeable." He spoke to Sirion. "Child, allow your sister to touch you."

Sirion bent a knee in respect. "My Lord..." She stepped up to Daisho and, pulling open her blouse, took the woman's hand, placing it over her heart. "See, my dear one, the blood still courses through my body, giving it life and breath. I remain a child of flesh and bone. I must eat and drink to live. And...and this place did not change me as you see. It is another story for another day."

Ysuah nodded approvingly, "Others you know who have passed these gates were forever changed, but you did not know of it."

"Who?!" Daisho asked Ysuah, her hand remained resting over Sirion's heart. "Who of my kind known to me have passed through EpipHaneia's gates?"

"Why, your General Maliazia, of course." Ysuah answered, surprised. "How else is it that she should have known about VanGoddawin and his sword? And why else would she have allowed a child so dear to your mother's heart to travel such a perilous journey with a man of such coarse and crude a nature?"

"Coarse and crude a nature?!" Treston blurted out.

Ysuah waved his hand, chuckling, "Therapon, I jest, but I do think it helps my daughter understand." He lifted Daisho's hand from Sirion, closing his over it. "My daughter, in dreams and visions you will remember our journeys into the immortal lands. Wisdom will come to be yours and you will understand many things. Allow this now to suffice. Many ages ago, long before your kind existed, our Zoe, your mother, purposed a race of men who would be flesh, living in a universe made for mortals. As a gift to us, the Cherubs, she promised that we, too, would share in the fathering of her children. So it came to be after she covered her true nature with a body of flesh we, the Cherubs, did likewise. To us she gave the power of life. Because we were made up of her very essense, it was an easy thing for her to do. Then it was gifted us to share with her in the making of life. So it was, all the children in this realm were born from us through Zoe...that is, all save one, but that is also a story for another time." He put a finger to Daisho's lips. "It is a secret belonging to only a few. Keep it so."

Daisho dumbly nodded.

"Good!" Ysuah went on. "You are my daughter, child of my flesh, the last of my children. Long have I watched you, marveling at your ways and deeds. Long have I seen you suffer in your distress not ignoring your agony. This man..." he pointed again at Treston, "can attest to the care I have for you. He remembers well my words to him on a long ago winter night and he has come to fulfill them. Indeed, already he has healed your broken heart. Your betrayal and rape at the hands of your former lover and mentor, StokJakke, has been avenged. His bones lie scattered across the wasteland that lies outside the Pass of Korteniaz, devoured by the mountain wolves of the Jahouk."

Ysuah tenderly brushed his fingers through Daisho's hair. "No longer should his vile threats trouble your dreams. He is no more, like the chaff that is blown in the wind and forever forgotten. No land of wistful dreams does his mind rest in. It is no more."

Daisho burst into tears, crying uncontrollably. Ysuah gathered her in his arms and sang sweet musical healings songs in her ears.

At length, Treston and Sirion departed, exiting the ancient building onto a broad street that led toward the center of the city. They were soon joined by Clarion and EremiaPikros. It was not long before their carefree conversation turned to more serious matters.

Eremia took Treston by the forearm. "Therapon, my brother, how long now is it before the witching hour when we ride out and face our destiny?"

Treston cast his eyes toward the ground. "I do not know. Soon Sirion, Daisho and I must leave, but I do not know what to do with you."

Puzzled, Eremia querried, "You cannot mean for us to remain behind?! My brother, our swords must join in battle! We are of the Seraphim. It is our duty to defend all that is good."

Treston stopped walking and placed his hand on Eremia's shoulder. "Please, don't misunderstand me. Listen, please. Just this morning, JabethHull and RosMismar conferred upon me this city, a gift for all eternity. They hail me as 'king of MueoPoros', if you can imagine that. This weight is not something I am ready to take on. I'm barely king of myself, let alone this world. At the moment, I'm at a loss for just what to do."

Anxious, Clarion pleaded, "My Lord, you must allow us leave of this place! Our blood delivered you here, over one hundred of our brothers and sisters surrendering their lives for you. It is our right to go with you. Do not murder our spirits by leaving us behind!"

Treston frowned, reasoning, "Clarion, what is deserved and what is delivered are often not the same. If I allow you to go with us, I may well be signing your death warrant. Long have you remained behind these walls, shielded from a world that has changed beyond your imagination. Believe me..."

Clarion interrupted, arguing, "We fought the iron monsters sent to capture you. We defeated the enemy, saving none alive. We..."

Treston countered, "You lived because your fathers rode to battle with you. They protected your souls by blinding the enemy with the freezing fog. Without their help, few of you would have survived."

Her face flushing red with anger, Clarion grasped Treston's arm. "You owe us, damn it! We have given you our all. Do you seek our eternal shame?! I deserve a death of my choosing as a free woman upon the field of battle not in a hovel, rotting away in the darkness."

'Free woman...' Those words stung Treston. Long ago, another woman shouted the same words. She died, but it was as a free woman, not chained to foolish mediocrity of men. What was he to do? He peered into Clarion's face, her eyes betraying growing desperation.

Sirion stepped between the two, looking first into Clarion's face and then Treston's, offering a solution. "Tonight or maybe tomorrow, after Daisho has regained her full senses, the Lords of Lagandow will meet with us in council. Let them address this issue. They have not failed us, nor will they. Let us all give our hearts over to their minds. Let them settle this for us."

Treston closed his eyes. "It is wise."

Clarion and Eremia agreed.

* * *

A late spring storm pummeled Palace City with wind-driven, wet snow and freezing rain. Morning awoke to low-hanging clouds and bone-chilling drizzle. Other than an occasional lorry splashing through the freezing slush, there was little activity on the streets, few venturing out.

It was as if the inclement weather reflected the hearts of the people of the Children's Empire. News was not good. Asotos was pressing on every front, defeating one army after another. The Trizentine was all but gone, the last existing colony, Sustrepho, having fallen. Candletoe surrendered. Desiah was burning. Then there was the latest report from TilgathPilneser's asteroid fields. The Second Battle Group had been surprised by fighters from two of Asotos' armadas, virtually destroying the fleet. It was only the stolid perseverance of the carrier Admiral Lonche and its support ships that kept the enemy from advancing on toward the Kalahnit Straits and securing those jump portals for themselves.

It was with all this in mind that Darla found herself hurrying toward the Governors' Escadrille, the district's provincial capital building. Nestled in a cluster of government buildings just east of the Majestic and a few streets south of the Road to Samayim, meaning 'Heaven' or 'Heights', the city's main eastern thoroughfare, the Escadrille drew little attention from passersby other than those needing to do business there. The south wing of that building had been taken over by the Marines as their central headquarters. By nine hundred hours, the colonel's footsteps could be heard splashing up the steps of the building's main entrance.

"Good morning! Good morning! I hope your sleep was pleasurable." Ardon's cheerful voice filled the hall as he approached Darla, hand outstretched in greeting.

Darla was at once surprised and pleased to see Ardon. She took his hand and, pulling him close, kissed him on the lips. Running her other hand up and down his arm, she asked romantically, "Does it matter to you that my sleep would have been better if I had spent it in the arms of a close companion?"

Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, Ardon answered with another question. "Did your Major Jebbson abandon you early last eve? The two of you were so involved in private conversation, I assumed he would warm your heart, saving it from this winter chill."

Frowning, Darla replied, "The dear major was called away on most important matters. What, he wouldn't say. I found my bed cold and empty, needing to cry myself to sleep for want of a companion."

Smiling in false sympathy, Ardon went on to console the poor child. He then offered his arm to take her to the staff meeting.

As they walked, Darla asked him about his presence at headquarters. "I am surprised to find you in uniform. After all, the warmth and security of the king's council chamber beats the cold and uncertainty of deep space. I know that Mihai views you as a highly trusted counselor."

Ardon agreed. "Yes, that is true, but first I must gain release from Marine Command before I can return to more important duties."

Darla said nothing, hiding her secret disappointment that such a close companion would soon depart for the civil duties of government.

After descending two flights of stairs and traversing a long corridor, Darla and Ardon found themselves standing at a door marked 'Wardroom Four'. They were soon ushered into a brightly lit room containing a long table, surrounded by several chairs. A handful of aides hustled about or assisted people already seated. Some of those present shocked and perplexed Darla immensely.

Althought surprised at seeing Jebbson, she puzzled over the person seated next to him, Commodore General Planetee, who was quietly chatting with others at the table. Centurion General Sarah Cnidus, Admiral SthukaaChonbae, who was now commander of the Second Fleet, General TolmetesRhedEpi, aide to Field Marshal Trisha, along with other high-ranking officers and counselors including PaulNomikos, counselor to the king and, yes, the king herself, Mihai were also there.

"Come in, Colonel AdayaDarla," a cheerful Admiral Sthukaa offered. "Please sit here." He motioned to the chair beside him. Ardon found another place at the table and soon he, too, was seated.

"So," Mihai asked, "has everyone arrived?"

An aide affirmed all of those requested were there.

"Good. Now on with the day's business..." Mihai smiled, standing, addressing the group. "As most of you know, the war goes badly for us. We have taken severe losses and suffered many defeats across our Empire. Thanks to Command's battle plan of abandoning many of our outer colonies, we have been able to keep much of our war machine intact. We are constricting as planned, pulling into an ever-tighter circle. And we have been able to hold our major jump portals."

She began to pace, explaining in detail the state of affairs and condition of the military units scattered across the Empire. At length, Mihai came to the point, the reason for this gathering. Turning and resting her hands on the table, she explained, "Constricting our lines was only part of our battle plan. We must now harass our enemy, hit his overstretched supply lines, burn his bases, assault his outposts." She watched everyone's facial expression, waiting.

Finally, after sitting, the king continued, "Our Navy yards have been busy day and night building new ships to replace and add to our naval forces. Too slow are the old ways of building and too few are the ships being activated for service. If it were not for Major Jebbson's ninety day wonders...'flying coffins' as their crews affectionately call them...we would be in dire straights, indeed."

Jebbson added, "And the number of my flying coffins coming off the ways increases every day."

Mihai agreed. "Yes, Major, and it's for that reason we find ourselves here today."

Lights dimmed while a cylindrical projector dropped from the ceiling, stopping just above the heads of those seated at the table. A three-dimensional, holographic map of the Empire and surrounding star-systems flashed around the room. Using a tiny pointer, Mihai could manipulate the pictures, even selecting separate star systems for close scrutiny. Servos whirred, spinning the holograph around the room at a dizzying speed. Then, just as quickly, the spinning stopped.

Mihai pointed, "There! The fate of our Empire rests in maintaining these areas secure..." her hand darting from one location to another as she listed them, "the Northern Rim, especially the area containing the Kalahnit Straits, the asteroid fields of TilgathPilneser and surrounding star systems, including those near the Nebulan Cloud Bank, the Southern Ring, in which we've already lost the Pilneser star system, and here...the CastenRill star system and asteroid field."

Servos again whirred to life, providing more detail of certain areas. Mihai pointed once more as if drawing a line. "The CastenRill opens onto the Channel, extending from what some are now calling 'Gorgon Pass' east toward the EremiaPikros star system and west to MueoPoros. Commodore StarFaggo's Stargaton Marauder Battle Wing and Commodore Nazareth's Dredges Battle Group are currently active in this theater. I believe that we have bloodied the enemy sufficiently in this area that with the current forces, MueoPoros will not be seriously threatened from that direction, at least for now."

The holograph moved as Mihai pointed again, this time frowning. "The Outer Corridor... It is a main artery leading into the very heart of our Empire. Battles in the TilgathPilneser asteroid fields, the devastation of Stargaton, and the taking of the Pilneser star system at the edge of the Southern Ring have occurred because the enemy has virtually unchecked use of the Outer Corridor. Although the Tarezabarians have put up staunch resistance against Asotos' armadas, they can do little more than duck and cover, especially since their heavy losses in recent battles."

Waving her hand and drawing specific attention to her final point, Mihai exclaimed, "We must set up a resistance force in this area, deep beyond our forward bases, here," she extended a finger, "in the Trizentine and..." drawing a line across the halo-map, "and into the Nebulan Cloud Bank or Sea, according to certain authorities."

Ardon smiled.

Mihai folded her hands and, staring down at them, spoke just above a whisper. "To do this, we must retake the RineHoulds in the Trizentine, home of the Stasis Pirates."

There were frowns, but no one spoke. The names of those wild places flashed through the minds of those present - lands of shadow, mist, ice, and fire - places inhospitable, dangerous and full of dread, even in the lost days of peace. Few of the Ancients had ever visited those star systems, if that is what they could be called. Barren, desolate and depressing they were. Yet many of those planets could sustain life, not always above the surfaces, but beneath them in fathomless, uncharted caverns and cold, black seas.

Indeed, it was because of their very nature that the RineHoulds became home to the Stasis Pirates. The Stasis were such a mad and wild lot that, had they not hidden themselves away from the children of the Empire, they would have been exterminated long before. So they hid deep in their citadels and caves, sallying forth to plunder and murder those innocents unfortunate enough to cross their path.

Admiral SthukaaChonbae stood, addressing Mihai. "My King, it would take an armada many times the size of mine to capture the RineHoulds and many years to do it. I don't see how we can accomplish such a thing, especially under the constraints we currently face. And, at that distance, our supply lines would be stretched so thin, I doubt we could sustain a flotilla of cutters for any length of time."

Mihai agreed, replying, "I would say your words ring with wisdom, except..." she glanced across the table into Darla's face, "except we have in our company one who has walked the very inner halls of the Stasis lords, eaten from their hidden granaries, and journeyed into their most sacred haunts. Indeed, few of their secrets does this person not know!"

A collective chatter arose as those in the room began excitedly talking with one another.

Mihai hushed them. "Yes, there is one among us who knows the haunts of the RineHoulds quite well, better than many of the Stasis, I believe." She looked at Darla apologetically. "I am sorry, my sister, but no longer can I keep certain matters to myself."

Darla cast an embarrassed glance toward Mihai. Then, covering hurt coming from a heart feeling the betrayal of a great trust, she closed her eyes, replying in just above a whisper, "My King and Lord, if it serves for the best of the cause..."

Mihai sighed, "It must be." Standing to gain the full attention of the group, she went on to explain, "Soon after the Second Megiddo war, our sister here was captured by the Stasis Pirates. For nearly thirty years, she lived a Stasis slave, suffering every humiliation and depravity those monsters could invent. She watched countless companions whither and die from similar abuse, her burning desire for revenge helping to keep her own soul alive."

(Author's note: _Darla's reason for her embarrassment and shame was that for thirty years she existed as a sex slave in order to survive_.)

"Eventually our sister escaped the ravages of those beasts, but she did not forget the atrocities committed against her and her companions. Whenever occasion has permitted, our Colonel AdayaDarla has returned to those haunts, seeking vengeance. Yes, the Therioskotia is not some mere invention of a corrupted, over-drugged mind. Long has it lived in the lands of the RineHoulds, devouring the flesh of the Stasis."

All attention focused on Darla as she sat, eyes closed, fighting the heaving of her chest and the guttural staccato sound growing in her throat. Her face reddened, neck muscles tightened and blood vessels bulged. At length, she forced the Therioskotia back inside. Beads of sweat grew on her forehead, the colonel staring down toward the table. After a moment, she gave Mihai another embarrassed glance, saying nothing.

Mihai's heart ached for Darla, knowing she, alone, had ever gained knowledge of this great secret. Even Euroaquilo had never known it, and Ardon had only guessed. Maybe Darla would never confide in her older sister again, but it was too late now to worry about those things. What was done was done and for what she believed was good reason.

Turning, Mihai began to pace. "Now my commanders understand the reason I requested Colonel AdayaDarla's presence with us today, and what I have asked of them concerning her."

Curiosity overcame Darla's hurt, her ears perking up, seeking to discover just what Mihai was getting at.

The answer came quickly. "My comrades, two great things, no three can be accomplished by the taking of the RineHoulds. One, we will drive the Stasis from our lands forever, or kill them...whichever. Two, we will establish our own bases of operations there. From those hidden bases, we can harass our enemy's supply lines and outposts, destroying shipping and undermining morale. Three, once secured, the RineHoulds will become our staging area for expanding our war into Asotos' own territories."

Eyes alight, Mihai stopped pacing, grinning. "We will have unreachable havens from which to make war right under the nose of Godenn and Asotos' other lackeys. He will not be able to ignore our presence, yet it would take half of Asotos' armadas to find and destroy us. That is why we are going after the RineHoulds.

As she spoke, Mihai waved her hands in gesture. "I have been in conference with Centurion General Sarah and Commodore General Planetee since this last eve. They concur with me regarding the following recommendations.

"A battle group yet to be named is to be established, made up mostly of new WolfPack Marauders of the Gadfly and Mosquito class, though there will be a scattering of converted bilanders and howkers. We will also include the first of our new Sloop class in the mix. These ships are the smallest of the WolfPack Marauder Class, making them highly maneuverable in close quarters such as the rock fields of the RineHoulds.

"Support ships will be comprised of mainly flutes, bilanders, and three colliers, all refitted to the level of fighting merchantmen or gun-busses. Protecting them will be several cutters, and six new WolfPack ketches, the largest of the Marauder design, just off the ways. The main flotilla will consist of the barquentines Divulsion, Griffon, and Mors, imperial brigantine Shikkeron, and the frigate DishonPele."

Again, chatter filled the room. People quieted as she continued. "The initial strength of this battle group will be about one hundred total ships plus several dozen fighter escorts. The Navy has offered to captain and staff the major combat ships." Mihai smiled and politely bowed toward Admiral SthukaaChonbae, addressing him. "And now you know how your department's offer will be used. I pray it still stands."

The admiral bowed his head in return. "It does."

She thanked him and went on. "The remainder of the crews will consist of members of Centurion General Sarah's Special Forces. They will man the Marauders and assist on the support ships. Marines and Special Forces will pilot our fighters and patrol craft. Commodore General Planetee has also been generous enough to offer us six hundred marines to serve special duty and security. This brings the total of our expeditionary battle group up to thirty-eight hundred."

Clasping her hands, Mihai smiled. "The officer in charge shall be responsible for overseeing all personnel, having full authority of a commodore or admiral. That officer will report only to me or my liaison. Conditions being as they might, the grant to act as wild-catters is given to the captain of the battle group as well as to the naming and its colors. The only order that must be followed is to take the RineHoulds, securing them for our future use."

Mihai sat down, resting spread hands on the table. "My war council, including Generals Sarah and Planetee, has unanimously agreed on the one officer most capable of commanding this mission and delivering us our prize." She paused. "It is my honor and privilege to offer the position of commodore enforce to Colonel AdayaDarla, to dispatch our enemy and procure the RineHoulds for the good of the Children's Empire. Will you accept this request?"

To say that Darla was surprised and shocked would be a great understatement. Listening to Mihai's speech, Darla felt she might receive command over the Marine units assigned to the battle group. This business of being made commodore – even temporarily – was beyond her imagination. Finally, after a deal of struggle, she choked out, "Y... Y... Yes... my Lord, if that is your wish."

Grinning, Mihai answered, "Yes, Commodore, that is my wish." With that, she removed a finely jeweled agraffe from a small satin purse and, gifting it to Darla, placed the office of Commodore Enforce upon her. "Here, Lady Adaya, birthed 'RachelOchlah', take your seal of office and wear it proudly for your service to the Children's Empire."

Loud applause filled the room while congratulations were generously offered to Darla. She attempted to accept them graciously.

Mihai soon brought things back to order. "There is no question concerning the dangers our new commodore and her people will face. We would not have undertaken this adventure at all had it not been for Major Ardon's willingness to reveal his secrets regarding travel in the 'Nebulan Sea and its rivers', as he calls them. He has forced a stipulation upon us, though. Only to the Tarezabarians will he divulge how safe, speedy travel is accomplished."

Jebbson eyed Ardon, smiling to himself. The fellow was more of a fox than he expected. Even a child could learn how to safely journey through the Nebulan system. All that was needed was the proper tuning fork and simple directions on how to use it. Something was up with Ardon, more than just keeping his little secret. There was a motive behind what he was doing. It was soon revealed.

"Major Ardon," Mihai went on, "has willingly offered his services to the Marines, training the Tarezabarians in the use of their mental powers to harness the energy within the Nebulan Sea and its tributaries. The major feels that the Tarezabarians are best equipped mentally to achieve this task. And since he is so knowledgeable regarding that entire confluence of space, he has also offered to venture into that unknown with the new battle group."

With growing excitement, Mihai added, "It will be through the Nebulan Sea that we will find success. Our forces can travel undetected through Asotos' lines and far into forbidden territories. We will have been active long in the Trizentine before that fool knows we're there en masse. If we are successful, the League of Brothers will need to reconsider their battle plans for the entire eastern region. We may well be able to stall his advance, possibly leading to his quickened defeat."

Jebbson studied Ardon, raising an eyebrow. 'The old fellow's in love, sacrificing his comfy life for added time with Darla.' He looked Darla over closely, his heart fluttering a bit. He loved her, too. Why not? Few women were more beautiful, and she was also a wonderful person.

His eyes drifted about the table, settling upon Planetee. With a thump, Jebbson's heart jumped. He smiled. Planetee would be here a few weeks before heading for Oros and the new Marine Headquarters. There would be time to renew old acquaintances. Last night was delightful, being made more so with the thought they were to be together for awhile. Yes, Planetee was a very desirable friend and lover, someone he had searched a lifetime for.

The meeting wrapped up shortly after. Darla lingered, as a good officer should, accepting the plaudits of fellow officers and council members. Ardon was waylaid by Jebbson, forcing him to be the last to congratulate his companion, something that wasn't so very bad, seeing it gave him opportunity to escort her away.

Jebbson pulled Ardon aside, first to tease him about his tricksieness with the navigation of the Nebulan Sea, mentioning Darla in the process. Ardon feigned need for secrecy. After putting up a chiding fuss, he revealed his second reason for pulling Ardon aside. Putting his arm around Ardon's shoulder, Jebbson drew his face close, speaking in little more than a hush. "My friend, I have great need of your assistance. You must allow me a returning to your planet, er... er... KruptoGinomai, er... I believe that's what you call it."

Ardon eyed Jebbson, curious. "Yes...?"

"Well, if you would be so kind, I have need to explore some of your crystal caverns. A great need, indeed."

Shaking his head in question, Ardon asked, "What is it with your kind? Can't get enough of those pretty colors? That can wait til' the war's over, can't it?"

Jebbson agreed. "Yes. Yes. That can wait, but not what I have need of. It could affect the outcome of this war, possibly the very outcome of history."

"What is it, then?" Ardon's voice was rising in suspense.

Putting his finger to his lips, Jebbson went, "Shhh..." He looked around to see if anyone was observing them. None were. "I'm talking about endless energy, never-ending power, bombs the size of bullets, weapons held in your hand that could destroy frigates."

That got Ardon's rapt attention.

Jebbson smiled. "You see, I took a few rock samples from your planet during our recent visit. Just yesterday, puttering in one of our labs near the spaceport, I heated some of the crystals I brought with me. As the temperature increased, a heavy gas began filling up the dish, hanging thick on the bottom. As I casually watched, much to my own foolishness, I fiddled with a broken chrysolite earbob Sergeant OidaMetra gave me to fix. It slipped from my fingers right into the dish. Well... let me put it this way: It's a good thing the chrysolite was in solid form."

"What happened?! What happened?!" Ardon asked excitedly.

"Ah, well..." Jebbson grinned, "it's also a good thing I was dressed in my lab coat and wearing a face-shield. When I picked myself up from the floor, I realized I had discovered something big, real big. Uh...but now I need your help to obtain more crystals. I have procured a ship, well sort 'a...someone owed me a favor. All I need from you is safe passage and directions on how to get back. Once you drop us off on Krupto whatever..."

"KruptoGinomai!" Ardon interrupted, disgruntled.

"Right." Jebbson grinned again. "Once you drop us off, you can be on your way. We'll just finish up our business and be on our way, too."

"Who is 'us'?" Ardon asked suspiciously.

Still grinning, Jebbson glanced toward Planetee.

"What did you do now, Major Garlock?" Ardon eyed Jebbson. "What did you do to that girl?"

"Er, well..." Jebbson's hesitation irked Ardon. Jebbson liked it that way. "Er... I was telling our dear commodore general about your idea of gravity navigation machines and ah...ah...in the course of our conversation, mentioned my wayward experiment. Anyway, the commodore talked with King Mihai, privately of course, and they decided to help me out."

"So, how are they helping you?" Ardon's suspicion was growing.

Jebbson answered so innocently, "My friend, you know, with this war and all that's going on, everybody's always in a rush to get things moving and to see how things work. Well, I heard that Admiral SthukaaChonbae was arrived to take command of the Navy's newest carrier, R'oxanah. Planetee suggested to Mihai that we give it a shakedown cruise by accompanying your little band of ships into the Nebulan Cloud Sea."

Ardon cussed, "The damned biggest ship in the Empire and you're asking safe passage to KruptoGinomai? That must have been one hellacious favor the commodore owed you."

Jebbson's glistening white teeth filled his smile. "Yep! She thinks she'll take the time aboard to train her new officers about life on large ships."

"So she's going, too?!" Ardon poked Jebbson in the chest. "Don't ever tease me about a lady again, hear?!" He hurried away to catch up with Darla before she left.

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then?" Jebbson, still grinning, called after him, as he sauntered toward Planetee.

Darla waited for Ardon by the door. When he arrived, she prodded him, "So you were in on this? You!"

Ardon squeezed Darla's arm. He would hide his feelings about her no longer. "How else was I going to be with the girl I so love?" He frowned. "Life in this fickle universe is uncertain these days and the Fates can be very unkind. I couldn't stand waiting upon the king while wondering about you, your safety. No! I couldn't stand being here without you...not now, at least... not for awhile, anyway."

Reaching up to brush a finger through Ardon's hair, Darla smiled, sweet and sad. "My dear Major, you sure picked a bad time to get all lovey-dovey. Where we're going is not a nice place. You will see that there's hell to pay out there and we're going to deliver the bill! It will change you. I promise you, it will make you into someone far different than you are now. You may wish to reconsider."

"Not unless you do." Ardon dared to kiss Darla in public. "I will not leave you now, for my sake, that is, if you'll let me go with you."

Darla smiled, nuzzling her cheek to his. "My Lord, your servant girl shall warm your bed on the coming wintry nights."

The two kissed again, departing the room.

Mihai had squeezed by Ardon and Darla, excusing herself, and hurried down the corridor leading toward the center of the building. She turned a corner, stopping short before nearly bowling Anna over. Though surprised by the close encounter, Anna lost little time getting down to business.

Seething under her breath, she angrily demanded, "How is it that you have abandoned your most loyal servants for those lost children of forgotten times?!"

Mihai stepped back, shocked, stuttering a reply.

Anna cut her off, hissing, "Do not think your power rests in your own might! Without us, the people would surrender your rulership up within a fortnight. Your council has done more than your bidding for you, you know. We've kept your secrets, too. What would your loyal minions do should they find out who your really are? Reckless, arrogant, little fool!" She shook a finger in Mihai's face. "Some savior you've been. Oh, yes! You sit as king because others bleed for you while we, your council, continue to cover for your misdeeds!"

Mihai was caught up speechless.

Anna ranted on. "How would your people take it if they knew you sent PalaHar to his death in order to satisfy a whim? Or how would those...those lost creatures view their messiah if they really knew what kind of a bumbling fool you've been through the ages. Yes, how would they feel if they knew you doomed their world by your own foolish deeds?! That it was your actions on that fateful day that have given their universe six thousand years of madness?!"

Anna was about to unleash another barrage of insults when the sound of whistling could be heard. Realizing it must be Paul – and Anna wanted no confrontation with him, still remembering her painful experience at the dry dock station, Clovis IV – she departed, delivering a not-so-veiled threat, warning as she rushed off, "If you don't wake up soon to who your real protectors are, you will bring down this entire universe and all that is in it! Remember, Darling, a king is only as powerful as the people allow."

In a moment, Paul popped around the corner, smiling 'hello' before continuing his little tune. Mihai stared at him, tears in her eyes. After a great deal of struggle, she whimpered, "Anna assailed me, accusing me of wicked deeds and treachery. I have lost her friendship." She reached out, taking hold of Paul's arm and began to softly cry, relating all that Anna had said.

Holding her close, Paul comforted her the best he could, offering reassurance. "Fear not, lovely one, your kingdom is secure, at least from that woman."

Curious, Mihai stood back, asking, "How can you be so sure? I believe she is after my throne...my kingdom."

Paul shook his head. "No, at least not in the way you think. Anna desires your kingdom be returned to who she believes is its rightful ruler."

"Impossible! Impossible!" Mihai cried. "She has always been a loyal counselor. You speak of treason!"

Paul nodded, adding, "Treason, murder and a whole bunch of other evil and dastardly things. But she doesn't want the throne for herself...never did."

Taking Mihai by her hands, he explained, "Love, my dear, is treacherous. No one knows it or can trust it. Your counselor loves Chrusion so much that she is unwilling to accept the man he has long since become. She sees only the man her heart wants to see...the man who treated her like a goddess, gifting her with every sort of kindness and adoration. She sees only the 'giver of dreams' the way he used to be. The woman cannot see what he is...'Asotos, the wastepipe'."

"She called me wicked, Paul!" Mihai moaned. "I do not...did not see myself as such. But then she accused me of PalaHar's murder, that I sent him to his death because of my jealousy and feeling him a threat."

"She did not say that," Paul corrected.

Shocked, Mihai asked, "How do you know?"

"A man raised from the Lower Realms is gifted with many things, but the fathers of this world have added to them seven fold." Paul confessed, "Few are the secrets Anna has not surrendered to me, my powers being demonstrated for her benefit but once, which was enough. You, my lovely one, have opened your heart to me and allowed me to explore your most secret of secret places. Nothing have you hidden from me and little had you hidden from Anna when she probed your mind that winter night when I accompanied PalaHar to Oros."

Paul did not allow a reply. "Anna could see your fears and uncertainties. She fueled your doubts concerning Terey's loyalty. As Anna continued to pollute your mind, you and Terey drifted further apart. Then, knowing PalaHar and Gabrielle were to be together on Sophia, fearing their confederacy a great threat to her own plans, convinced you to remove PalaHar from Gabrielle's company. She took care of the rest, to take PalaHar out of the picture and to give Asotos a highly valued prize...Ishtar."

Mihai's eyes flashed with anger. "Do you have any pro..."

Paul frowned, cutting her off. "Anna's powers are strong. Long have you been enslaved by her sensuous love songs while she violated you, selling the secrets of your heart to the man who ruined your soul. Her scent alone befuddles your mind, as it is doing now. Even when she chastises her king, she releases love's pheremones. It binds your heart to her flesh."

Mihai shook her head, denying it to be so.

"It is so! I have seen it in your eyes," Paul argued. "Even now you wish for her bed, to gather yourself to her arms. A man can love a woman, giving her the ecstasy of the dream share, but a woman like Anna can crawl inside the soul of another woman, making every fiber intoxicated with the smooth wine of drunken passion. Anna has cast a spell over you, one I can only check. You, my dear one, must break the chains holding your heart bondage to her wiles."

Before Mihai could speak, Paul returned to her earlier question. "Do I have proof of Anna's intrigues? By your own law shall all the proof that is needed be delivered, but in its time...in its time."

Looking in the direction Anna had exited, Paul started rubbing Mihai's upper arms. "It a funny thing, my dear one, very funny. Anna's love will destroy her, shattering all her dreams. It is blind love for Asotos that has ruined the woman, corrupted her heart and mind, making her forsake Lowenah, you, and every good thing she ever stood for. Still, it is for the very reason that it was love, what evil she has done was out of love, a twisted love, yet still love, that there remains a spark of hope."

He pondered a moment in thought, recalling his earlier encounter with Anna. "Hmmm...her mind still clings to life. Her love still saves her...may well continue to save her from a future of endless nothingness. Because she loves, she lives."

Mihai puzzled. "What are you about, Paul? What are you trying to tell me?"

Paul smiled, tapping his bearded chin with his finger. "Oh nothing, just the lawyer coming out in me, that's all."

* * *

'The Pass of Korteniaz...' Treston stared around as his small army ventured out through it. The previous day's council had ended with the Cherubs accepting Clarion's and Eremia's request to leave EpipHaneia and journey with their new king. Treston remembered RosMismar's cautionary words.

'Listen well to Therapon's counsel. The world has changed much since your imprisonment here. Weapons have advanced far beyond your paltry ones. Even swords have evolved. The derker blade is common. It is not made of steel but elements of the universe that absorb the person's spirit, its edge sharp beyond sight, honed by an energy field of immeasurable quality. Yet its heft is light, like that of a feather. And that is the most primitive of weapons in use today.

'Bravery no longer wins battles. Many of your bravest Seraphim rest in the Silent Tombs, slaughtered on the field, their swords still holding to their scabbards. Bombs, missiles, weapons of great destruction all are common on the field of honor. And, in this day, the field of honor may be well beyond the vision of the warrior. A cave or fortress is no longer a guarantee that you will remain safe.

'So, listen to Therapon's wisdom. He will decide your immediate fate. If he tells you to follow another leader for awhile, listen to his voice. You must learn war anew. Humble yourselves to it. Allow your younger siblings from both realms to teach you in the ways of war. Listen to them and learn.'

All had agreed, but... but still Treston worried.

He looked over at Daisho, a woman certainly changed by her visit to EpipHaneia. She was dressed more in the fashion of some wild pirate than a soldier, wearing a silken scarf that swept down across her shoulders, over-wrapped with a black, diamond-studded, half turban, a long gray frock coat ornately crafted with jewels and gold braid, and red pantaloons, covered with knee-high boots. Then there was her Cherub's sword designed in the shape of a scimitar. The only thing remaining from Daisho's original uniform was her sergeant's insignia.

Riding next to Daisho was Sirion. For this sojourn, she had chosen to dress in the armor and mail of the elder Seraphim, covered by a full-flowing fur cape that trailed down along the flanks of her horse. Along with her black leather breeches, high-topped combat boots and long, flowing golden tresses (her hair had grown long and luxuriant in just several days), the woman carried a Cherub's sword of her own – two-handed, double-edged, about a long cubit in length. Of course, she carried the '45', wishing to personally return the gun to the officer loaning it. For sure, Sirion no longer looked the part of a refined officer but more like one of wild people of the Trizentine.

The woman had also changed a great deal. Besides her appearance and voice, her personality was different, more aggressive and assertive. She had always been feisty, but now there was an edge about her nature that bordered on dangerous. More than once she had apologized for her curt, abusive behavior, saying it just slipped out.

Treston had asked Ysuah about it, worried that not all the demons were expunged from the girl's mind.

Ysuah reassured him it wasn't so. 'Our child is suffering what some of your kind call 'post-traumatic stress syndrome' a common malady for warriors. In time she will settle down, especially with your help. Just how much she has really changed and how much is the malady is yet to be seen. We must all wait." He added, "Yet the girl has become something different. Her mind has been damaged by the demons and their violent removal, something we had no other choice in doing. How far it will heal is to be seen. Time will tell.'

Then, quietly, Ysuah confided, 'She is not fit for duty, at least not as a fighter pilot... soon, maybe in a few months or so. This information has already been given to Gabrielle through RosMismar. In the meantime, she needs to remain with you, in your company. You helped damage her. You also have the ability to set a cure in her soul.'

Treston pondered the remainder of his conversation with Ysuah. He and the others - Ishtar, Sirion, and Alynnou - were to return to EdenEsonbar and Palace City to set matters right with the king. Anna needed to be brought to account for her treacherous actions. Ysuah said that was a priority.

He was also told that EpipHaneia was to become an opened city, the Cherubs leaving it to the sons of men and angels, an allusion to future prophecy. Until Treston was to return, his fellow Seraphim could help assist the military in setting up the city as a base of operations. Oh yes, EpipHaneia would still remain under the Cherubs' protection, not allowing the enemy entry, but they would be departing the place for the moment, closing the doors of their mausoleums and other private Cherub properties so as to concentrate on more important matters.

Ysuah warned, 'A man with a wicked heart cannot pass the gates of the city and yet live, but a person with a tricksy one – a heart confused over what is good or bad – may still get through alive. Keep a trusted guard at the gates. Do not allow anyone to enter this city unless you have tested them out as to fitness first.'

'How am I supposed to test them out?' Treston had asked quite innocently.

Ysuah grinned, 'If my son cannot discern an honest man, I'm sure he will be able to search out the heart of a trickster.' He would say nothing more about the matter.

Treston's thoughts were interrupted by a shout. "Scout coming in!"

The pounding of horse hooves and the sound of rein's repeated lashing troubled Treston. Had the enemy already detected them? The Cherubs had promised them protection only through the pass of Korteniaz. Their flankers and scouts were long since departed that pass and the main body just leaving it now. Treston braced himself for bad news.

The rider reined in his mount, the horse rearing back to a stop, throwing clods of dirty snow into the air, pelting Treston and Eremia. "My Lord! My Lord, a great host waits out on the plain for us! Friend or foe, I cannot tell. Just beyond the shadow of smoke they stand, several hundred strong. Although there are many machines of transport and war, their leader rides a KaminosKtisis, of that I am sure."

"What standard does the army carry?" Treston asked. "Did you see?"

"Yes." The scout answered. "But it is the likes of which I have never seen. It was a flag of sorts. Red it was, with white bars crossed and stars on the bars."

Treston let out a sigh. "Jackson won't give up his past. Damn glad he hasn't." Grinning, Treston leaned back in his saddle, turning to the others. "My friends, I believe our escort awaits us beyond the mist." He paused in thought, frowning in doubt, contemplating. After all, the enemy was known for deception, too. Turning to Eremia, he ordered, "Bring up our rifled dragoons. Tell their captains that if those waiting for us are not friendlies, it will be up to them to hold the line until the others can retreat back through the pass."

"Do you really fear them to be our enemy, after the beating given them by my people not so long ago?" Eremia asked, puzzled. "They certainly could not have recouped their losses so quickly, do you think?"

"My friend," Treston reached out, gripping Eremia's forearm, "as I have earlier tried to tell you, the army you destroyed some days ago was little more than a skirmish line when gauged by today's wars. Why, our people lost more ships in their invasion of this planet than enemy killed by your little fight. I have seen more deaths in ten minutes than your army stands in numbers. Indeed, in our hour of retreat south of Memphis, I watched one cavalry charge led by a woman, a General ChasileahKapporet, who carried in her van three times our number total. And it was done merely to check an advancing enemy numbering at least a hundred thousand."

Although surprised, Eremia was more interested in the woman Treston mentioned. "So Chesse still lives? Long has it been since I have shared the sweetness of her lips and listened to her enchanting melodies."

Ignoring Eremia's expressions of endearment, Treston pondered the question. "I...I don't know. I was later told that they had found her alive but badly broken, her horse having fallen dead upon her. They said my friend, Jonathan, was singing strange words in her ears. That is all I have heard."

Eremia saddened, but spoke hopefully, "Then your Jonathan might be a healer. Is he of your kind, from your world? Then there might be hope she still lives."

Treston answered apologetically, "Yes, he is of my kind but, if he is or is not a healer, I do not know."

Eremia placed his hand on Treston's shoulder. "Then let us trust he is and dream our Chesse does live." He spurred his horse, riding off to gather the rifled dragoons.

Treston turned his attention back to the scout. "Have our outriders been seen yet?"

"I don't believe so. Our people stayed back in the smoky mist. Still, it looked to me that they were there for an intended purpose and their guns pointed both south and west. Few did I see pointing north."

Giving orders, Treston cautioned, "Do be careful. Stay hidden but find, if you can, the other scouts and flankers. Tell them to wait on my command. We will attempt our move in stealth."

The scout motioned a salute, bowing his head as he did. "My Lord..." Off he galloped.

Eventually, thunderous drumming of hundreds of hooves shook the ground. Eremia soon returned with sixteen score plus twelve armed riders. So strange they appeared to the common soldier of the day. Most wore burnished armor thousands of years old, often more decorative than practical, covered with capes of fur or flowing flaxen cloth, helms of gold, iron, or leather, long leggings and soft, fur-lined riding boots. Besides the highly decorated long guns, each of these warriors carried battleaxes, spears and, of course, swords aplenty.

Treston shuddered, seeing these soldiers appear as ghosts from the mist, more like the wild Sarmatians of the north than the Seraphim he was so used to. When these people prepared for war, they went all out, including the painting of their faces. What were Legion's followers going to do when these people finally unleashed their vengeance upon them? He shook his head. What made these children of God so wild, almost insane for war? Then looking at Sirion and Daisho, he shrugged, muttering, "Must be the water."

Eremia rode up just in time to hear Treston speak, asking, "My Lord Therapon, yes?"

Embarrassed, Treston said, "Oh nothing...nothing." He quickly instructed him in the positioning of the grenadiers, adding, "Command will lead. Hold your people back, hiding them in the mist until ordered otherwise. If we are to take the blow today, then I shall not be a helpless witness to it. VanGoddawin's blade shall keep its honor."

Sirion spoke up, brandishing her sword. "No man or demon shall take this woman alive! ReaDameia will set its queen a blazing flame of destruction before the Devil and his army can take her down to the field of blood." She continued with her little rant until being politely quieted by Treston.

When everything was set, Treston ordered the people forward.

A rider trotted out of the heavy mist up to his commander. "General, they are moving forward again and have advanced their rifles. Their leader rides out in front."

The general smiled. "Good! Good! It's about time we see just what this leader of theirs is made of." He turned toward a woman sitting a horse beside him, asking, "So, Lieutenant Alynnou, do you believe their commander to be this Treston fellow you have continually chattered on about since your arrival yesterday?"

Alynnou frowned, but her reply was polite. "General Jackson, Sir, there are still many things some men from your realm must learn about women, especially if they are to survive in this one. I can assure you, Colonel Treston is not one of them, and I think it might behoove some commanders to pay close heed to his advice. As I recall, our leading officers are of the feminine gender, directing the actions of our armies."

General Jackson, better known to his companions as 'Thomas', smiled. "I still find the ways of your kind troublesome when it comes to manly things like soldiering. Your traits don't fit well...you know, the tears and emotions, and the constant bantering you carry on with. The battlefield should be left to the men and the women..."

Alynnou interrupted, "Should what?! Stay at home raising up the little ones? General, if it weren't for the women of this land, your world of old and this one, too, would have long ago been consumed by the fires of evil! My sisters held the line of loyalty when our brothers, en masse, made flight to join their brother in rebellion. Sir, I believe it is the penis that leads most men and not their minds."

Thomas' face soured as he attempted to change the subject.

Alynnou grinned, making added reply. "Some men still look upon our gender with passion and revulsion, seeing sex to be the Devil's product. Do not fool yourself, General Jackson, Sir. Piety is from the Devil. It is the foundation of pride. Passion, the kind when a man wishes to be one with a woman as her lover, is from God."

Looking away to hide his embarrassment, Thomas answered, "We will speak of this another day. For now, let us keep our senses and wits about us."

Another scout appeared out of the mist, motioning the location of Treston's people. Putting his finger to his lips and waving his hand, signaling the others to follow, Thomas quietly slapped his mount with his knees, starting the animal forward, taking the lead. Six riders disappeared into the smoky fog.

"They advance, my Lord. Even now they ride within arrow shot," the scout cautioned Treston, whispering, "Your orders, Sir?"

"Just their leaders?" Treston asked.

"Yes! And without any long guns," came the scout's quiet reply.

Treston motioned the others to halt. "Then we shall wait for them here," he whispered.

Like ghosts rising from gloomy pits, six shapes emerged from the darkening mist. At length, less than a rod apart, their appearance took on recognizable features. Treston was so busy studying the person in the lead, he failed to notice others in the van. This man was noteworthy. He sat straight in his saddle, wearing a gray coat similar to Treston's brown one. It covered a gray officer's suit with knee-high riding boots. But unlike standard military headgear, the man wore a kepi with the words 'Army of Virginia'emblazoned on it.

The company was less than ten feet away before Treston cast his gaze over the others. He caught sight of Alynnou and his heart jumped in his throat. Involuntarily, he cried out the woman's name. The party abruptly halted.

Smiling, Thomas glanced toward Alynnou. "He's your boyfriend? Doesn't look like much of a warrior to me."

Alynnou frowned, politely scolding, "This man rode alone through these wild lands to find the mythical city of EpipHaneia, which I believe he has done."

A horse spurred forward, stopping just in front of Alynnou, the rider's eyes ablaze. "He did not travel through Hell alone, but with two companions he rode! The Devil takes those he chooses and he chose not to tangle with us! Nor should you!" She gripped the hilt of her sword.

Someone shouted a warning. "Patch!"

Treston quickly rode forward, grabbing Sirion's reins, ordering, "Stand at ease, soldier!"

Alynnou again cried out, "My sister has returned from the Abyss! And with both eyes you see!"

At first bewildered, Sirion finally recognized Alynnou, staring in disbelief. "How is it that you ride with the enemy?!"

Reaching out to touch her, Alynnou again cried, "We thought you dead! The enemy downed your ship and our rescuers found naught a sign of you. Tell us, please, how did Colonel Treston make his company with yours?"

Sirion put her hand to her head, closing her eyes in pain.

Treston spoke up. "Only eight days ago the major, here, battled against a host of demons. War in the mountains was won, but it has taken its toll. Patch suffers from... from...oh it's some kind of post-stress problem. It will be awhile before she's healed."

Thomas spoke up, quite condescendingly, "Women's minds are not fit for war...too soft, you know. The lady would be better served if you had delivered her to the sanitarium to rest, instead of dressing her up like some barbaric warlord. And what's this 'Patch' business, anyway? Are there holes in the creature's clothes?"

Treston quieted Sirion as she tightened her grip on her sword. He cocked his head, squinting an eye, ignoring Thomas' remarks, replying, "General..."

Thomas smiled, touching his kepi and giving a slight bow to his head. "General Thomas Jackson, but you can call me 'Thomas' or 'General Thomas'."

"Well, General Thomas, I rode in the legions and I do believe your old Virginians have no bragging rights over the men I fought with. I will tell you this, Son, I would rather face a hundred of your warriors than to face ten like her." He nodded toward Sirion. "This little lady has personally faced down Legion and Godenn as well as the demon inventions of Asotos that would drive most men insane. And..."

Thomas interrupted somewhat caustically, "And what...Colonel Treston, I believe?"

Treston nodded. "And it would be wise to learn how to show some respect for her and others like her, that is if you still want to have an army to carry your little flag. We don't shoot deserters here. We learn how not to make them desert."

Thomas harrumphed, his face turning grave. "You seem to have caught me at a disadvantage, knowing something of my history, while I know none of yours."

Treston sat back in his saddle, eying Thomas. "I am a bastard child, born in a dark and twisted age, killing my first opponent when I was twelve and laying my first woman on my fourteenth birthday. I have soaked the fields with the blood of innocents and fathered more brats than most men have kin. I killed to live and lived to kill. Few have been the men more vile than I, and fewer still who have lived to tell of it. To top it off, I have recently found out that I am privileged to claim you as one of my descendants although my family thought it was through my brother, but no, I was father to that child through my brother's wife." He smiled, "Do you wish to know more about me?"

Thomas was taken aback, but quickly recovered. "Sir, I find your language used in mixed company highly inappropriate. I would ask you to desist this moment and apologize."

Treston began to make reply. Alynnou cut him off. "That's enough of this! Both of you grow up! I'm here on king's business. Stop measuring the size of your... your..." not wanting to infuriate Thomas with more inappropriate speech, "your manhood and start using your brains. We've work to do. So far, the enemy's not found us. Call in my ship and we'll be on our way."

Surprised, Thomas stared at Alynnou, asking Treston, "This officer needs to be put on report or worse! Do all your junior officers act in such an insubordinate manner without fear of discipline?!"

Treston grinned, replying, "Not if the officer is of the Order of the Seraphim. They're wizards extraordinaire and the guardians of this universe."

Alynnou cried out in dismay, "Lord Treston, the Order is secret!"

"Not anymore it isn't." Still grinning, Treston explained, "General Thomas, this woman is not who you think she is. She's governess over the House of Elinor, chief of the sorceresses and queen over the moonless nights. Orphaned to the darkness, today that house has been reborn, and these two women are its newest members." He pointed at Sirion and back at Daisho.

Shock and dismay filled Alynnou's eyes...shock at hearing Treston tell of her history, dismay at having the Seraphim revealed. But as his words sank in, they filled her with wonder at the thought of the House of Elinor being reborn. She asked, bewildered, "How... how do you know? Why..."

At that moment Eremia rode forward as if sniffing the breeze. "My Lord Therapon, I sense the wind is shifting. Little is the time we have to cover ourselves in this mist. We must be fast on the move, for I feel the enemy is on our trail."

Suddenly, in the distance, the sound of artillery fire echoed across the land.

Thomas' face hardened. "You speak of mysteries and riddles, but my questions must wait for another time. Colonel...Lord whoever you are...Treston do you wish to accompany me in victory or defeat?" He whipped his mount around and bounded off at a full gallop.

Treston spurred his horse, shouting over his shoulder. "Tell the company to come on the double! They may get their wish for war before may be!"

The others followed Treston, gallopping off in hot pursuit.

It was not much of a battle that followed. A small expeditionary force had pushed up from Memphis, probing the southern reaches of the Jahouk. Having no air cover, they were surprised by Thomas' brigades. In short order, the survivors were making tracks south.

Casualties were few among Jackson's and Treston's soldiers. Both men knew that the enemy would waste little time in starting counter-measures. If their own air support didn't arrive soon, their final outcome might be far different. And it looked like air support was going to be little more than a dream.

The two men consulted with one another, deciding that Thomas and the troops with him under his command should go north along with the majority of Treston's people. In the meantime, Treston, along with Alynnou, Sirion, Daisho, Clarion and a half dozen others, would attempt to make a rendezvous with the Navy's transport.

Eremia's disappointment was quickly assuaged by Treston's promise that he and the others were temporarily under Thomas' command, reminding him that Jackson was a scrapper and didn't like hiding in a hole. "That Jackson fellow may get you into a fight sooner than may be, so stay at the ready."

Eremia was then charged with setting up patrols to guard the Jahouk plains in front of the Pass of Korteniaz. Responsibility was also placed upon him to inform the general about the history and makeup of the Seraphim and the setting up of his army in EpipHaneia.

Just before they parted, Treston took Eremia's arm, gripping it just above the wrist. "My friend, a free man you are as are all those in the city. You choose as you see fit. I only will request of you to be patient and wait for my return. This General Jackson is an excellent officer. You can learn a great deal from him. You can also teach him many things. Bring him up to speed with life in this world. Make him forget his old 'holier than thou' ways. Find him a girlfriend that can seduce the socks...er' pants off him. Someone there can do it. He's a man. He'll surrender to her wiles." Treston looked over his shoulder, watching Thomas giving orders, muttering, "Bet the guy hasn't had any since before Chancellorsville."

"Before what?" Eremia asked.

Treston let go his grip, grinning, "Ask him when you get the time. I'm sure he'll love telling you about it."

Alynnou urged Treston take his leave, kissing her old companion, Eremia, as they departed. In short order, a dozen riders were making haste toward the east.

As time passed, the riders began searching the sky, fearing an enemy air attack. To the east, an ancient forest of redwood and cedar darkened the hills. Alynnou shouted to Treston, "Our ride should be waiting for us there. But, if not, at least the high timber will help hide us from unwanted eyes."

Treston spurred his animal on faster.

They were less than half a mile from the dense woods when someone shouted an alert. Treston glanced up in time to see a black dot appear, as if coming out of the sun.

"Scatter!" he shouted, reining SastelloPhantasma hard to the left. The others also wheeled of at a gallop to the sides, maintaining their general direction toward the forest.

A moment later, violent eruptions sent geysers of ice and snow high into the air. No one was hurt, other than some being painfully pelted with debris. The plane arced to the north and started circling back to the south. The pilot would not be so careless this time, firing only missiles. A strafing run across their path with all his guns ablaze should slow them down, if not finish them off.

The enemy ship was lined up and the pilot squeezing the triggers when Treston saw a blinding streak of white light flash from the forest. With a deafening roar, the ship blew apart, scattering debris across the landscape. Treston was thrown from his horse, hit by a chunk of burning metal. He lay there in a daze, feeling a numbing pain growing in his left leg.

"Treston?! Treston?!" Alynnou was on the ground running toward him.

Treston groaned, "Get to the woods. Save yourself."

Alynnou would have none of that. She knelt down to assist him, shouting for the others to continue on. They refused. With her assistance, Treston sat, assuring her he was all right. He wasn't. His coat was torn, burned, and wet with blood. Looking at his leg, he could see a wicked gash from his hip halfway to his knee.

Examining it, Treston breathed a sigh of relief. "It's just a surface cut, nothing more." He glanced at his sword. The scabbard had been smashed, its jagged edges having torn his flesh. The sword, though, was unscathed. Looking into Alynnou's troubled face, he sighed, "I must thank VanGoddawin when we meet in future days. Had that been an ordinary sword, we'd be searching for a leg right now. Will you help me up?"

First, Alynnou removed her scarf and wrapped Treston's wound. Then, with help from the others, he was assisted up. Limping, he made his way to his mount, relieved to find the animal uninjured. Painfully, and with the aid of two men, he finally found himself in the saddle and started for the forest. It was the longest half-mile he could recall traveling in many a year.

Just inside the forest, the troop came upon several soldiers dressed in white. The leading officer stepped in front of Alynnou as she reined in her mount, pointing, "The ship's about a quarter mile from here. Come along quickly! I'm afraid we'll soon have unwanted company."

In short order, the horses and crew were shuffling aboard the transport, the loading officer complaining that the animals should be left behind. Treston dismissed the officer, citing a need to have them, stating he was not going without the horses. Embarrassed by the colonel's reply, seeing he was wounded, the officer apologized. The hatches closed and soon the lightly armed transport ship was whisking its passengers off toward the east.

Evening found Treston and the others on board Sophia. Gabrielle, Tabitha Copeland, and a host of other officers and well-wishers had visited. Surgeons had mended Treston's leg and given Sirion a dose of drugs to ease the massive migraine she was suffering, a malady she endured off and on for some months following her ordeal with the demon hordes. Two adjoining cabins were given them, Treston and Alynnou in one and Sirion and Daisho in the other. Treston breathed a deep, satisfied sigh. Alynnou had not only survived, she was resting in his arms, drifting off into a gentle sleep. He now had some time to reflect on the day's events.

Treston pondered just how different war was now, compared to his days in the legions. A wounded soldier might be carried from the field, finding his bed under a tree or in a haystack if he was lucky. There he would languish, being tended to as best as possible. At length, the soldier might find a cart that would journey him to camp. More often than not, he would have to walk, if able. Then, when he reached camp, he would be put up in soldiers' quarters. If he healed properly, he would return to his company, making up for lost time by added enlistment. If released from the army because of his injuries, he would have to find his own way home.

Here it was so different. That morning, Treston was leading his army through the mist, later joining up with General Thomas and then fleeing toward the forest. In the old days, he would have had his wound tended, staggered back to his troop if he could and then he would have been on his own, doctoring himself. And now he rested comfortably in a clean room aboard a giant ship, thousands of miles from where he was only hours ago. The colonel shook his head in wonder.

Then he thought of Gabrielle's visit. They chatted for awhile about little things, she thanking him for Sirion's rescue. When he saw her wince in pain, he offered her what remained of his strictnoisun chew, explaining what the sergeant told him about the process for making it safe. He was curious over the admiral's excitement after taking a bite and letting it settle on her system. She thanked him for it again and again, stuffing the rest in her blouse, promising to make a thorough study of it.

Treston mused, 'Strange how something like a little chaw could make people so excited.'

The following day was busy. Breakfast was little more than biscuits and jam served with hot coffees or teas, delivered while Treston's party held conference with High Command. Generals Tabitha Copeland and Sarah Cnidus, along with Admiral Gabrielle all were present, feeling it important to be there. Gabrielle did depart early, not even pretending to hide her nauseating sickness, Zadar leaving with her. Admiral Sujin remained, acting in her stead.

No detail was too small not to be mentioned, from Sirion's leaving Sophia to her demon war. There was a pause in the proceedings when Sirion broke down after hearing of Jusenah's murder – the woman being the duty officer she had promised to return the '45' to. Other than that, the meeting continued without interruption. Daisho was also brought into the discussion, her experiences told mostly by Treston and Sirion. Then Treston explained that the Cherubs had handed over EpipHaneia to Mihai's people, calling him 'Therapon, king of EpipHaneia'.

The chatter was intense when that information was revealed. The thought of having a base unreachable to the enemy was a gift without measure. Tabitha could see how great a strategic location it would be, also including it as a safe haven and refuge. Treston warned them that no ship or aircraft could penetrate the cloud mass covering the mountains and that the Pass of Korteniaz was the only way in or out of the city. "It is quite possible," he explained, "the enemy could box us in, thus removing a large fighting force from the field." The others agreed, but considered the benefits far outweighed the risks.

It was well past the noon hour when the conference broke up. Lunch was a hurried affair, and then it was off to private meetings. By mid afternoon, major business was finished. Treston and the others were relaxing in the Admiral's Lounge when Zadar stepped through the doorway, telling the party they had guests.

First to enter was Eutychus. He made a beeline for Sirion, picking her up in his burly arms before giving the woman a giant bear hug. Filled with curiosity, he asked, "Your eyes! They've been healed! Do I still call you 'Patch'?"

Sirion grinned, kissing him. "Please call me 'Patch'! I earned that name. I like that name."

Eutychus smiled. "Then Patch it is...Major Patch!"

Sirion thanked him, kissing him over and over again. "Major Patch has missed you so..." Finally, the others were given opportunity to say their hellos, but it was done while Sirion continued to cling to Eutychus' arm.

In a little while, Jonathan and Chasileah joined them. The heartfelt celebration of a reunion by old friends and lovers was both tearful and joyous. Again there were the hugs, kisses, misty eyes and the casual banter that went on for several minutes.

It was during this time that Jonathan, breaking free of the others, sought out Treston. He drew him aside, whispering, "There is another guest yet to arrive, but she fears your displeasure." He motioned for Treston to come, explaining, "Ishtar waits in the shuttle bay. She is afraid you will find her so ugly you will not want her in your company. No persuasion on our part could get the girl to budge."

Treston appreciated Jonathan's information as well as the pictures he had taken of Ishtar, helping him prepare for their meeting. It was true, the girl looked far different but for Treston it was more the matter of recognizing her than to consider her disfigurement. In five minutes or so he and Jonathan were entering the shuttle bay.

So quiet were they that Ishtar didn't notice their coming until they were only feet away. With a start she looked up, gasping in surprise. Treston was beaming from ear to ear. Before the girl could respond, he had caught her up in his arms, tears streaming down his face as he cried, "My girl! My girl! Now my family's complete." He continued to dance around, holding Ishtar in his arms, her feet lifted above the floor.

Treston refused to listen to Ishtar's complaints and her whimpering concerning how ugly she was now. Easing the girl down, he lifted his hands up to her face, examining closely its damage. He smiled, "Well, well, it looks to be healing quickly. You'll be good as new in no time." He then went to work convincing her to come and join the others.

Evening arrived at the end of a tiring but enjoyable day. High Command had decided that Treston and all his entourage should return to EdenEsonbar as soon as possible, Sarah suggesting they travel aboard one of her WolfPack Marauders. Tomorrow in the AM, Palace Time, they would leave. Clarion and her other EpipHaneian companions were to travel along with them, to present their offer of fealty to Mihai the king, as well as to lend support to the new master of EpipHaneia, Treston. Jonathan, Chasileah, and Eutychus were also requested to make the journey.

After dinner, a few of the party retired to the officers' wardroom on the upper deck, not far from their cabins. Tabitha Copeland paid a visit, chatting with Alynnou and Clarion about life in the Second Realm during her day. As the evening drew to a close, she excused herself, Alynnou offering to escort her to her cabin. After saying goodnight to Tabitha, Alynnou returned to her own cabin, turning down the sheets for night.

By ones and twos, the remaining people left. Eutychus and Sirion slipped out quietly, followed by Daisho, Clarion, and then the others. Soon there were only Treston and Ishtar in the wardroom. They started up a quiet conversation, talking about little and unimportant things, except to them. Ephesus, the city of an ending and a beginning, at least for these two people, filled their moments. Eventually, Ishtar crawled up from the floor and snuggled beside Treston.

Nuzzling her head in his chest, and curling her knees up, she asked, "Will you sing me a bedtime story? You know, the one about the trolls and the Lord of Distress? My papa used to sing it to me. We all knew it, remember?"

Treston grumped that he couldn't sing, but said he would try, and softly began the musical tale.

After finishing in the cabin, Alynnou decided to return to the wardroom. Slipping in quietly, she found Treston and Ishtar wrapped in each other's arms, sound asleep. Finding a downy blanket in a locker, she covered them and silently left the room, turning down the lights as she did.

* * *

### Section 24:

"Blood-cry of the Sister Runes"

It had been a very busy past few days, and Darla had been hoping to take a little break after reaching RadapNasi the night before. For over three weeks, she had been on a whirlwind tour of various depots and yards, assessing the ongoing preparation of the ships and crews that were to comprise her growing task force for Operation Devil's Hole. There was gossip aplenty concerning the purpose of this new task force, but it was just gossip. Only a few highly trusted officers knew its destination or even who was leading it.

Darla leaned back in the coach, closing her eyes while listening to the mellow music drifting along on the warm breeze flowing from the railstage's heater vents. She reached over, pulling her shoulder bag close, sighing with concern as she did. Troubling thoughts filled her mind as she pondered what was of such great importance to Captain Joleck that the woman would send her gifted dagger along with a note requesting Darla's personal assistance back in Palace City, and the need for great secrecy. She thought back to early that morning.

Six hours after arrival in RadapNasi from HaserSar's Crontiriny Navy Depot, Darla was waked by a determined knocking at her door. "Go away!" she grumped, before rolling over and pulling the blanket over her head.

The intruder persisted, saying it was most important.

"All right! All right! Stop the hammering!" Darla shouted as she crawled from the bed and stumbled to the door.

Leftenant Ilanit greeted her, a huge smile from ear to ear. "Commodore Darla, I'm sorry to wake you but this is very important. A courier delivered this only minutes ago. It's from your friend, Captain Joleck! The package says 'urgent'. I knew you'd be eager to receive it."

Darla thanked the leftenant, her voice gravelly from still being half asleep. Breaking the waxed seals, she slowly unwrapped the soft brown vellum that was secreting whatever was hiding within. Much to her surprise, Darla discovered Joleck's bejeweled dagger, given the woman by Captain Asarel, wound about by an inked parchment. Ilanit turned up the light. Darla blinked in pain, squinting in an attempt to read the finely printed note on the parchment.

"My shades..." she groaned, "I have not found them yet and cannot decipher what is written here." Somewhere in her travels, Darla had lost the dark eyeglasses Jebbson made for her, and replacements had not yet arrived. The woman's eyes ached and burned because of her sensitivity to light, making it difficult for her. She handed the note to Ilanit, asking, "Will you read this to me? Have my new eye shades arrived?"

The leftenant nodded her willingness to read the letter, and then shook her head. "Sorry, haven't seen them yet. I'll check with the mail room as soon as may be to find if they're here." She went on to read the note, her voice taking on a grave tone as she did.

'Dear Colonel Darla,

Having newly arrived at Palace City, I find circumstances very troubling and have need of your assistance. I cannot risk coming to find you, seeing my presence here is secret. There is treachery afoot that you should be made aware of. It is dangerous business I speak of, disturbing and deadly. I send you a gift so that you will know that I have made this request of you. Return to me this dagger when you arrive. It is a very precious gift and I treasure it. Take the railstage because no one should see you act in haste. When arriving at Palace City, Exit the South Terminal at Exil Street. I will be waiting for you there.

Love you more than ever.

Your companion in dreams,

Joleck'

Darla took the parchment from Ilanit, pressing it close to her breast. At length, she asked the leftenant to assist her. "Procure passage for me on the next railstage leaving RadapNasi. I will take only a few necessary things, leaving the rest so as not to raise suspicion about my absence. If anyone asks, tell them I'm out on business. That'll be good enough for now."

Ilanit offered, "Allow me please to journey with you as far as Oros. I can add to your deception by feigning a need to visit the newly arrived Shikkeron. I will return here on the 'morrow if I do not hear from you."

Darla approved. "While there you can check out the progress of the refit, giving me a report when I return. Not to worry, I will make contact with you upon my arrival at Palace City, deciding then what to do next."

The leftenant smiled. "I'll be anxious to hear from you." She then chided herself while reaching into an inner pocket. "I forgot! This came just before leaving Crontiriny last night." She held up Darla's jeweled agraffe in her hand. "The catch was broken when you slipped on that ladder the other day. It's good now."

Darla thanked her, telling to set it on the writing desk.

Ilanit suggested otherwise. "Commodore, the king gave this to you. It's an important treasure that might come in handy at a critical time. Hide it under your cloak if need be, but don't abandon such a prize when traveling into unknown dangers."

Pausing in thought, Darla finally agreed. "Yes, it is a wise suggestion. I will make sure I carry it with me."

Darla reached up, touching the king's brooch secured under her cloak. Today was no time to bring attention to her new rank as commodore. There might be too many well-wishers around, too many questions asked. She snuggled back in her seat to snooze. The railstage was just crossing the Obeb Divide on the Trangil High Pass Trestle. In a few hours, the Kaissal Mountains would be long forgotten and she, well rested, would meet Captain Joleck in Palace City.

A thunderous jolt shook Darla awake. Giant boulders smashed into the coach, tearing away parts of the roof while crushing innocent passengers in their rampage. Midst the screeching of twisting metal and the cries of the dying and injured, Darla felt the ground beneath the coach buckle and collapse, cascading down the mountainside and into the deep chasm far below.

The coach tumbled over, adding its own mass to the sliding mountain of stone and rubble. Darla was pitched out of her seat and slammed to and fro like some rag doll. How she remained conscious she did not know. With an ear-shattering ' _crunch_ ', the coach halted, wedged between the oncoming avalanche and some ancient pines. For a moment, things became still. Darla strained to look up through the choking dust and wreckage, seeing broken trees preventing the coach from suffering the fate of others less fortunate.

At that instant, another coach twirled past hers, being pitched far out from the canyon wall by the mountain debris. Then, slowly at first, at least to frantic eyes, the coach spun and cart-wheeled down, gradually shrinking in size until it vanished in the distant mist.

Hearing panicked screams, Darla followed the sounds to her right, staring through a gaping hole in the roof of the coach which was now upside down. There, dangling over the edge of the precipice, the forward car swayed back and forth, secured only by its very tiny hitch fastened to her coach. People were crying for help as arms reached out windows, seeking escape. Then, with a terrible, wrenching screech, the far end of Darla's coach ripped away, sending it and the other coach plummeting ever downward.

Trees groaned, limbs snapping as their giant trunks cracked, leaning over ever more threateningly. Darla's coach yawed back and forth, squealing as if in agony, as the heavy frame and drive trucks slowly crushed the coach.

With a ' _crack_ ', metal cables snapped, buckling the roof. The floor above ripped loose, sending it along with seats and parts of the coach's underpinnings crashing down on Darla. Suddenly, a reinforcing plate with a seat attached fell on her leg, snapping tendons and cracking bones. She gasped and fainted.

Darla recalled little until hearing moaning and calls for help from other survivors, several trapped like herself. Through a tiny crack in the side of the car, she could see another car, the day coach, still up on the tracks. Though damaged from the landslide, it was still aright. People were milling around outside, some wandering aimlessly while others worked frantically to rescue those still trapped.

"Help...help us!" a woman's voice cried out faintly from under a pile of rubble.

Darla tried to answer, but only began coughing up dirt and blood. Eventually she choked out, "Help will be on the way soon." She had no more energy to talk, the throbbing in her leg sapping her strength. Hopefully, she stared up the hill, wishing for rescue from there.

It was difficult to maintain consciousness under the present conditions, but Darla did whatever she could. Singing helped, and it was during one of her little songs that she heard the sound of approaching airships. Straining to get a better look, the woman stared out through a torn gap in the coach, up toward the rail grade. Momentarily, two blue and gray transports settled down near the day coach.

'Strange...' Darla thought, seeing white-suited soldiers pile out of the ships. Stranger still was that they carried long guns. Shocked, she watched the survivors herded up and loaded back on the rail car, followed by a dozen soldiers. Little could the woman hear, being a great distance away, but when she saw bright flashes of light inside the windows of the coach, she guessed that things were all wrong. These soldiers were not here to rescue. They must be enemy commandos on some mission. But what could it be?

The soldiers retreated from the coach, quickly followed by billowing smoke pouring from the windows and doors. There were a few wails and screams of agony as the fire grew in intensity, but the roaring of the orange-hot flames quickly smothered them. Darla burst into tears thinking about her fellow comrades being so ruthlessly murdered.

While flames engulfed the railcar, the soldiers turned their attention to the commodore's coach. Stumbling in their hurry to get down the hill, some fell, others good-humouredly chiding their clumsiness. Bending low and peeking in through the far end of the coach, a soldier spied a hand raised, seeking help. The soldier pointed his long gun, sending a blinding fireball into the face of the hapless victim.

Someone shouted, possibly the commanding officer, "Enough! Enough, stupid! We're here to search out our prize. Find the woman first and then have your fun."

Another man poked his head around the side of the coach. "I have a signal! Comes from way inside...least I think I have a signal. It's pretty weak."

The same man who had shouted at the first soldier stepped up to him. "The fool set off the charge too late. You'd better hope there's a signal in there or we'll have to take a trip down the mountain to the mess below. I don't think any of you want to search that."

Darla was curious. Who were they after? What did they want? It was a woman, but why and who? Not her... not possibly her?! The men began working their way down along the side of the car.

The commando with the signaling device started up a conversation with his superior. "Got two of 'em, Sir...two separate signals, both near the far end of this car."

The other replied, "Good! Good! They said the bitch would be wearing a brooch of some kind and she was supposed to have a dagger, too. I was told not to forget it because it is a precious gift and highly treasured. Command wants it back real bad."

Darla froze. So Captain Joleck was a traitor, using Darla's emotions to bring her capture? And...and what of Leftenant Ilanit? Was she in on this, too? A nauseous ache filled the woman's belly. She began to vomit while crying out in heartbreak. Oh, for death... sweet, sweet death! Why did she still live while the innocent around her perished in such horrible ways? And it was all her fault...her fault for trusting others when she should have been more alert to the real dangers surrounding her!

"There she is!" shouted a commando.

Arms reached in through a broken window, grasping Darla by her hands and pulling. She cried out in agony, her twisted leg refusing to move. Looking in the broken coach and seeing the problem, the man in charge ordered another soldier to go and fetch an axe. "If we can't get the bitch free, we'll cut the damn leg off. Now get goin' and be quick about it!"

For a seeming eternity, the soldiers yanked and tugged, Darla wailing in agony each time they did, feeling as though she was being ripped apart. Finally, with one giant heave, she was wrenched free, passing out as she was pulled through the window. Little more did she remember until coming to in a cold, steel dungeon.

* * *

Alynnou awoke in sweaty chills. She rolled over and whispered in Treston's ear, "Lovely one! Oh, my Love, please wake!"

Treston groaned, muttering something inaudible.

Lifting her head from the pillow, Alynnou gently shook Treston. "Please, Love, something's not right with me. Help me."

Treston rolled over, his face touching Alynnou's. Struggling to open an eye, he mumbled, "Want me to get you somethin'? You sick?"

"No! No!" Alynnou's tone was growing in nervous excitement. "It's like a really bad dream, I mean one like yours about Patch. But this one will not abandon my waking eyes. I see murder afoot. Treason, treachery, and murder that haunts my very visions, but where and with whom, I cannot tell."

At that moment a frantic knock came on the door, followed by someone's excited call. "Colonel Treston! Colonel Treston!"

Rolling onto his back, Treston got out of the bunk, pulling open the thin panel separating his cabin from the outer corridor. Sirion and Daisho's troubled faces appeared before him.

Before he could ask what the matter was another voice called from down the hallway. Half dressed, Clarion hurried along, strapping on her sword, Ishtar following close behind. When she caught sight of Treston, she motioned acknowledgment, waving, "Ship's up, Therapon! Crew's gone to battle stations without commands being given." She stopped, sweat glistening on her bare shoulders. "It feels like the ShandDrom have risen. What are your orders?"

Treston sat, blinking away the sleepiness from his eyes. He asked, "What's Captain GinaFounnah's whereabouts? She runs this ship, not me. And what's a ShandDrom, anyway?"

"It's..." Alynnou sat. "It's..." She began, and then hesitated.

Clarion urged her to speak.

"It's... it was the name given by the Cherubs to their daughters who were gifted as sorceresses in the House of Elinor. The ShandDrom are...were the Keepers of Divine Light, the secret powers handed over from the Cherubs to a select few of the women chosen to journey with them to Lagandow. They were trained in these secret arts so that, should the greatest of evils be released upon the universe, they could hold it in check until prophecy could be fulfilled, bringing the evil to nothing." She hung her head in shame.

Treston puzzled. "Ysuah told me about the rebirth of the House of Elinor and the calling of his daughters." He waved his hand toward Sirion and Daisho. "But I recall nothing concerning the ShandDrom. So what are you talking about?"

Alynnou began to tear up, staring at her hands. "As you told General Jackson, I was the governess over the House of Elinor, chief of the sorceresses. But I was more. I was the Shandii, Holder of the Key. It was given to me by RosMismar, himself. I controlled the power of the ShandDrom, thus protecting its accidental abuse...the Divine Light being an extremely dangerous energy force if used carelessly."

Clarion spoke up, confused, "Wait! I am also one of the ShandDrom. Though I know of you and your curious presence and friendship with many of my sisters, I do not recall seeing you at our new moon festivals when we danced for our fathers on the darkening night. "

Looking up and into Clarion's face through tear-filled eyes, Alynnou answered, "I believed the House of Elinor to be no more, SiehRainee, the last of its daughters, being slaughtered by Godenn and AsreHalom near the Gate of the Asters on Mordeniah during the Third Megiddo War."

Clarion interrupted, saddened by Alynnou's revelation. "SiehRainee is no more? How fondly I remember her sweet laughter and gentle touch. You say you thought her to be the last, and you did not remember me being one when we reunited on the field just the other day? Yet I still live. Any sister of that House would recognize me as one of the ShandDrom and you did not. Who really are you?"

Alynnou replied, "I do remember you, although not noticing you at first when we reunited on the plain, I being so overjoyed at seeing the colonel here. Who am I? I am the shadow dancer, the woman of the mist. I was the ghost you could behold but not touch. When I danced at your new moon festivals, I hid behind the glory of my ring, a special gift from Lowenah and RosMismar. I remained secret to all save a few of the House, never revealing who I was or the power I possessed. You were the first I felt slip into shadow, thinking you dead."

Clarion's face clouded as she began to discern who Alynnou was. Bitterness was carried along on her rebuke. "The Cherubs promised us that the guardian of secret glory would come in our hour of need. We waited for you to arrive and give us our powers, fearing, at long last, that you had fallen prey to the treachery and violence of our wicked brothers. I lay broken in body and mind many months because that glory remained locked within my breast. I begged my father to release to me the glory given me at Lagandow, but he would not, saying I must wait until the one who can release my bonds arrived to do so." With piercing eyes and a suspicious tongue, she asked, "Did you betray us to our fate, or did you truly fall victim to wicked men and only now have gained release to come to us?"

Bowing her head in shame, Alynnou answered, "I betrayed you all, the loss of AsreHalom's love crippling my heart so that I could think only of my hurt and the fear of his demise, my secret, stupid hope being that he would come back to his senses and return from paths of wickedness." She pulled her hand from Treston's, turned away and began to weep. "You see, my Lord, I am a wicked woman undeserving of your consideration. I allowed my sisters to die as they tried to hold the line against the growing evil, finally fleeing into the wilderness after hearing of SiehRainee's murder by the man my heart refused to stop loving."

Treston raised a hand to speak, but she motioned Treston away. "I am an evil child deserving nothing. The Cherubs have lifted up an avenger of blood so that my wicked deeds can be fully revealed. Now allow me please to leave this world and journey to the land of the Abyss, the Nothing World where all cowards and blasphemers reside." She rose and started for the door.

Treston reached out and, grasping her arm, pulled Alynnou back to the bed, forcing her to sit. "You shall not abandon us so soon!" He stared into Clarion's face, asking, "Why do you think the Cherubs refused to give you the Divine Light when you asked for it?"

Confused, Clarion answered, "My Lord Therapon, I don't know. I did not ask, being told, merely, that I must wait for the one who held the key to give it."

Treston then asked, "How many times have you shared the hours with RosMismar since the day of your request? And has he ever given you reason to question why the power has not yet arrived?"

"Many are the times we have dreamed since then, but he not would speak of it, saying the hour was not come for me to know."

"So," Treston looked at Alynnou and back at Clarion, "do we know for sure that it might not have been the Cherubs, themselves, who held back the power, by hiding Alynnou away in her own self-pity?" He reached out a hand to Clarion. "My sister, you have taught me many wonderful things about the Cherubs, yet I perceive they remain much a mystery to you down to this day."

He stared into Clarion's eyes. "Your righteous anger at being betrayed by this woman might well be ill-conceived. Do you know for a certainty when your powers were to be given you? I, as a man living among evil men during very evil times, wished for the kingdom promised us to arrive while I still lived but it did not happen. Indeed, to this very day, the men of my world still cry out for that kingdom to come to them and yet it remains always elusive.

"The Cherubs do not wait upon us nor do they consider us first. This I do know, they will allow all Heaven and Earth to pass away if it promises to deliver the heart of the One they love most, Lowenah. Their love for us is second and we must remember that truth. When they believe the hour to be right, they will deliver whatever is necessary to preserve that innocent heart. Maybe tomorrow, maybe never will they give to you the Divine Light. It is neither yours nor hers to give." He pointed toward Alynnou.

He then addressed Alynnou. "It's true, you are not guilt-free, deserving rebuke for not attempting to give your sisters support. Still, I cannot accept in my heart that we have come down to this hour only to be ostracized by the very Ones who placed us on this path. No! The Cherubs do not act in vengeful or vile ways, it being a nature they do not even possess. They are motivated by purpose, their first being to preserve Lowenah's heart and make her joyful."

Pausing, Treston looked around at the others. "Something has happened to us this eve that cannot be explained by our personal, emotional reasoning. We must think like Cherubs... practically... pragmatically. Why have we been waked? Indeed, why has the entire ship been placed at the ready? I perceive that our destiny awaits outside the walls of this ship, in the cold reaches of space. The Cherubs call to us to assist them in preserving Lowenah's heart. Something, or someone precious to her is in great danger, and we, the children of the Cherubs, are being requested to help preserve that heart."

Turning his attention back to Alynnou, Treston asked, "What troubled you into wakefulness?"

Alynnou sniffled, struggling to hold back more tears. "I...I saw a woman, a woman with animal eyes and serpent fangs" she pointed, "similar to Patch here since the beasts have been chased from her mind. The woman cried out of the darkness in a strange tongue, calling a name. I believe it is a Cherub's name, but I cannot remember it for her words were caught away into the night only to deliver me to the bridge of an enemy battle frigate.

"I stood, bewildered, the captain not noticing me but speaking as if to me said, 'We shall take the woman who carry's our Master's seed and deliver her up to our Master. From her shall he take the evil of this world and give it to all the daughters of the Wicked Mistress.'"

At that, I saw a small planet and heard the word 'HaserSar' spoken in my ear. Then I saw myself moving toward a bright light far off to its east. At that, my heart filled with dread, fearing I was dying. Then I woke and cried out to my Lord Treston."

"HaserSar..." Treston asked, "Isn't that EdenEsonbar's moon?"

The others confirmed it to be so.

He screwed up his face, puzzled. "How does HaserSar fit in with an enemy frigate and a woman crying out for help?"

Sirion placed a hand to the side of her head, feeling it tingle. Shock filled her face. "Two of us have received gifts of evil intent, to make us prisoners of Asotos. Has another of our sisters also fallen victim to such a wicked gift? And I do recall from the other night watching a report of the return of Shikkeron and the pictures of Colonel Darla when she was recognized by our king, Mihai."

Daisho interrupted. "With demons our sister, Darla, has been troubled these many years, the news being publicized at the Council of Eighty. Has Asotos sent his people to deliver her up to him? If so, it could be that from EdenEsonbar, itself, she is being taken, or soon will be."

"How is that possible?" Treston's face wrinkled in disbelief. "Who would dare snatch a soul from EdenEsonbar, it being the best secured planet in the universe?"

Clarion shook her head. "The best place to hide the dirt is under the person's nose. My Lord Therapon, you of all people should know that. The less likely a place is thought to be vulnerable, the more likely it is to be attacked. The more secure a person feels, the fewer precautions that person will take for safety's sake."

Treston agreed. "You're right. You're right."

"So what should we do?" Clarion asked, dismayed at the thought that another of her sisters might be in such grave danger.

Treston first asked Alynnou, "Can you find the location of the light with your mind? I believe it will lead us to that enemy ship of yours."

Alynnou answered, nodding, "The heat from that light still smolders in my heart. It will be easy to follow."

Treston stood, pulling on some clothes. "We must find Captain GinaFounnah." He hurried out the door toward the bridge.

Captain Gina responded, frowning, "Colonel, I will do as you ask, but allow me to warn you, this is a WolfPack Marauder of the ketch series, classed as a one hundred-twenty tonne deep space torpedo clipper. It's our speed that makes us so effective. We might be able to take on a first rate cutter but, if it's a frigate we're chasing down, don't hope for us to be more than a puff in the breeze against a four thousand tonne warship of that class." She shrugged, adding, "And if the ship's not alone, well, we can only hope to report their presence before being blasted to smithereens."

Treston asked, "Are there any other ships we could call on for help?"

Captain Gina looked over her chart book. "Hmm...let's see. According to your officer, we are about one hour southwest, Q-west of our trianglulated intercept for our course change to the east." She pointed at Alynnou. "That will put us on the path of any ship coming from or going toward that mysterious light of yours."

The captain turned back toward her chart table, pointing a finger at a tiny star system. "It will deliver us just south of the Great Ateria and west of the dust fields of JabethHull...a very treacherous place when war's afoot, may I add. That gives us little time to gather the storm. Let's see, the marauders Salee and DafniiRea could rendezvous with us before then, being in this quadrant and fast enough to keep up our pace, but that still makes a mighty small armada in a real fight. Why not call on the Navy for support? We're only sixteen hours out from the Crontiriny Navy Depot on HaserSar. They might have patrols in the area."

Treston thought the captain's suggestion a good idea.

A few minutes later, the communications officer reported, "Captain, we can't get through to EdenEsonbar or its nearby spaceports or stations. Transmissions have been bad ever since Palace City's last new moon. For now they must be using old radio high frequency. From this distance it will be days before we can deliver a message to Navy Command on EdenEsonbar."

Turning to Treston, Captain Gina sighed, resigned, "Colonel, little help can we expect from the Navy lest there may be a patrol ship in the vicinity that can pick up our local signal. Still, I doubt they would be of much help unless they're between our target and us. This ship is not called 'Razor's Edge' for nothing. It's fast... real fast, and we're running full-out right now."

Treston glanced at the chart table. "Then I suggest you send out a coded alert to all vessels in this general vicinity, giving the location of the assumed enemy and requesting assistance in that area. That way they can at least pick up the pieces and possibly survivors."

Captain Gina smiled wryly. "You have the ability to speak so reassuringly, Colonel." She then told the navigation officer to send out an alert to all vessels within the selected quadrants. "Also have the locations of Salee and DafniiRea confirmed and rendezvous arranged." She leaned against the captain's rail, hands spread and head down. "Colonel Treston, I doubt we will be little more than a spit in the wind if we're engaged in a real confrontation. May I suggest if you or your people can conjure up other magical powers besides seeing our deaths afar off, you do it."

Treston bowed his head in reply. "Captain, battle is often won not by wizardry but by determination and..." he smiled gravely "and by luck."

Alynnou, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, spoke up. "There may be a solution, but I don't know for sure. Captain, my women companions and I are all Seraphim, a secret order gifted by the Cherubs with special powers."

Needless to say, the captain was very surprised. "I have heard of the Seraphim, but thought them creations of our Mother. You say that you are Seraphim?"

Alynnou answered, "That is so. For now let this suffice. Gabrielle is the head of our order, but I have been told that her powers extraordinaire have been passed on to a woman from the Realms Below, and that woman used her powers to raise Chisamore to life so that she and it fought as one person during the recent battle of Gorgon Pass. Now, I do not think we possess such great abilities as hers yet, but there may still be some hope to gain, at least in small part, similar magic."

Before Captain Gina could reply, Alynnou raised her hand in warning. "Rumor has it that the woman suffered greatly from her experiences – still does. I tell you this, Captain, because I do not know the glory of the force I speak of, for it is greater than the might Gabrielle had. It is not of this world but from an earlier time when all life was a power unto itself. If unleashed, it might destroy us all or it might save us. I do not know which. Upon my will it can be unchained but, if without the Cherubs' blessing, it might well prove a greater danger than Asotos and all his hordes.

"Also," Alynnou rested her hand on the captain's shoulder, "those aboard this vessel are not of the order of the Seraphim. I do not know what such an energy force will do to them, they having not seen into the deepening pits of Lagandow. In the open, the wild, where the sky is free to us, I feel the world might be safe enough from such an exorcism." She frowned. "But in the confines of this iron coffin, I dare not guess the outcome. Although we, too, are mortals as are you, the secrets of Lagandow may protect us. I dare not guess what your fate would be."

This troubled the captain. "My duty is first to the Empire and then to the safety of my crew. If this were only a fool's errand, I would not risk this vessel in mortal combat against such unequal forces although, from what you have informed me, and should it be our Colonel Darla whose life hangs in the balance, I say that we must risk all to save all. Should we fail, we need trust it has pleased the Cherubs enough to provide another escape for our sister. "But," Captain Gina raised her hand, palm out, "I believe we need to wait upon the moment, decide what must be done before the favorable time has passed, but not until its urgency knocks upon our door. How much time will you need to call out to the Spirits before your magic can take effect?"

Chasileah, just newly arrived on the captain's bridge and having heard the final part of the company's conversation, spoke up, concerned. "We have been requested to make haste for EdenEsonbar on urgent business. Is it wise to deviate from that path, risking all for the sake of one?"

Alynnou gripped Chasileah's hand. "Sister, I'm afraid that more than one may be at risk. Our mother's heart may be threatened by a terrible evil."

She released her hold, walked past Chasileah and the others taking her leave. "I must reach out to my father in hope he has not abandoned me to my foolishness. Please do not disturb me unless it is critical." She hurried away.

Razor's Edge soon joined forces with Salee and sometime later rendezvoused with DafniiRea. Together they raced for an intercept with an unknown fate, feeling that the weight of the entire universe rested on their decisions.

* * *

A painful jolt woke Darla out of a fitful doze. From the yaw she felt through the cold deck plates, she realized she must be aboard a ship and that it was making a high-speed course correction. With a great deal of effort the woman sat until, leaning back on her elbows, she could glimpse her surroundings. It was very dark. Any light at all came from a tiny window in a forward hatch. And it was bone-chilling cold, like a morgue. The air was also very thin. Obviously, this was no place designed for the living. There were no circulating vents or other life support systems in here.

'A munitions locker!' Darla concluded. Her heart sank. A munitions locker would have walls one to two handbreadths thick, made of titanium-bronze alloy and reinforced with aluminized cobalt-steel. The locker was large, too large for a cutter. And from the pulsing of the engines, Darla doubted she was aboard a slow transport. No, she was on a warship of measurable size, or thought she was, heading into unknown dangers.

A shudder ran through the locker. Darla could feel it jerk around as if a giant hand had gripped hold of it. Another sudden jolt knocked her elbows out from under her, dropping her hard, the woman hitting her head. Before Darla could cry out, a panel was slammed closed over the tiny window and all went black.

Racked with pain from her injuries, Darla could think of little else, that is until she heard the sound of heavy servos and the creaking of metal suddenly exposed to the frigid temperatures of space. What was happening? Wait! She reasoned this must be some sort of container and she was being transferred to another ship. Whoever these people were, they certainly had no desire that their captive escape.

"Escape..." Darla muttered aloud. What chance of escape did she have? No weapon, no clothes, nothing. What was she to do, _chew_ her way out of this prison?

"Must be some kind of tractor beam..." she said to herself, assessing what kind of ships carried machinery capable of producing tractor beams. She concluded it had to be a warship of some size and relatively new, tractor beams becoming practical only in the last decade or two because of the immense energy needed to utilize them. The woman began to puzzle as to where she must be.

' _Clank!' 'Clack!'_ Two cabled clamps automatically attached themselves to the munitions container, twisting it about violently, sending Darla sliding across the freezing floor. The pitched scream that Darla made was heard only in the silent world of that iron vault. For a second time, the woman passed into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Look Colonel, I've risked this mission already, but I have to draw the line here." Captain GinaFounnah argued. "We shadowed that packet for three hours even after we discovered it to be Paz out of Oros. And now, our drone is sending us back pictures of the Paz docking beside the imperial brigantine Haisely." She put her fists on her hips. "Haisely went off grid weeks ago, undoubtedly on some clandestine mission, which means we keep our noses out. _O-U-T... out!_ "

Treston would not retreat. He trusted his lieutenants, knowing how intuitive their senses were. "Captain, if my people say Queen Adaya is there and in trouble then that's the way it is. The powers of these witches are beyond my reasoning and beyond yours." He poked his finger toward her. "Besides, I have been with the Cherubs and know their ways. This is certainly a Cherub night."

As Gina lifted a hand to emphasize her argument, the ship began shaking violently. Blue, green, and blinding white charges of static energy raced along the beams and deck plates sending out showers of sparks and flames in every direction. Gravity machines failed, acting erratically, sending the crew sprawling across the narrow decks.

"What the?!" Gina turned to her first mate just as the viewing screen in the chart table exploded into fiery shards of glass, pummeling the bridge crew, followed by a storm of gages, controls and machinery erupting, on fire, destroyed.

The concussive blast knocked everyone on the bridge to the deck. Gina reached for the captain's rail to pull herself up, wrapping the fingers of her outstretched hand around one of its posts. Instantly she cried out as a massive charge of energy engulfed her body in a bluish white shroud of light that blew the shoes off her feet. Static fire danced from the captain's fingers, hair and even her teeth, sending sheets of lightning in every direction.

A terrifying, cosmic energy storm raged through Razor's Edge, the ship's crew scattering in confusion and panic to avoid the turmoil. Treston fell into Chasileah, who was standing beside him, sending them both careening into the aft bulkhead and sprawling onto the deck. In helpless desperation, they watched the ship rapidly dissolve into chaos, Razor's Edge thrashing about as though some angry giant were shaking it in its fitful grip. Sirion and Daisho narrowly escaped being crushed when a torpedo broke free from its mountings, crashing through the bulkhead of their officer's cabin.

In what appeared to be the final gasp of the storm's fury, a hurricane-like tempest ripped through the corridors, tearing fire-fighting equipment from their mountings and hurtling them down hallways already littered with people and jumbled machinery. Few escaped injury from the storm's wrath but, surprisingly, no one was killed or maimed.

As quickly as it had started, it was finished. The ship sat silent, flashing, red emergency lights illuminating the disabled marauder. Treston looked around the bridge. The crew was beginning to stir, trying to make sense of things or attempting to assist one another.

Captain Gina lay motionless, a steamy mist drifting up from her body. Treston was about to reach out and call her name when he saw the woman move, pulling her knees up to her chest as she turned on her side. Groaning, she painfully rolled onto her knees and, still clutching the captain's rail, pulled herself up to stand. The captain's hair was singed, her fingers blistered and bruised, her uniform in tatters. Stunned and confused, she asked, "What happened?! Were we attacked? Did our boiler blow?"

Assisting Chasileah, who was in noticeable pain, Treston shook his head in puzzlement. "I have no idea what's happened. Maybe it was a mine...maybe an energy bomb. Heard they can do awful things to a ship..."

With Treston's help, a hurting Chasileah got back on her feet. She was leaning to one side, her face contorted from having twisted her back when Treston fell into her. Sporting a bleeding bruise on her forehead and cradling a sprained wrist, Chasileah disagreed, wincing, "This was no weapon of the enemy. You have just witnessed the glory of the gods! I believe Alynnou has released some of the power of the ShandDrom." She looked aft the captain's bridge, feeling the remnants of the mind-searing tempest that had torn through her own brain only moments ago. Rubbing her temples to ease the pain, she pondered, "I wonder if the woman still lives..."

Hearing that, Treston quickly took his leave, racing for the officer's cabin he and Alynnou had shared. After fighting his way past the litter of destruction and squeezing by rescue and repair crews, he reached the cabin, his heart sinking. The charred panel door of the cabin lay broken and twisted in the corridor, apparently blown out by a fiery explosion. Gripping the doorjamb, he craned his neck, fearfully peering inside the darkened room. Through the acrid smoke, little was to be seen other than twisted, smoldering wreckage of what once had been the captain's cabin offered so generously to Treston and Alynnou by Gina for their use on this trip.

Heart pounding, Treston cried out Alynnou's name and plunged into the blackness. Fumbling along on hands and knees, Treston heard muffled moans. He again called out to Alynnou. She groaned something inaudible. Crying out Alynnou's name, as he clawed away at debris, he found what appeared to be the burned remains of a mattress. As he anxiously tossed it to the side, a hand shot out of the darkness. Catching it in his iron grip, he cried with joy, "You're alive! You're alive!"

At that instant, the lights flashed on, flickered, went out, and then flashed on again, flickering a little. Alynnou moaned in pain, her eyes burning from the sudden brightness, "Do I really live in this time or the next?"

Treston laughed, squeezing her hand. "You live! You live now! Now!" pausing to see what injuries she might have. Alynnou looked a sight. Her fingers were badly blistered, several inches of her hair were singed off, her clothes were charred into little more than shredded rags, and she suffered several minor cuts and bruises. Treston started to help her sit.

Alynnou cried, begging, "Oh, stop! Lovely one, please stop!" Lying back on the floor, she covered her eyes with a hand. "I... I... cannot... My head aches with a thousand thunders. Leave...leave me die here. The power of the Divine Light was too great for my body. I shall die here, having done my best to save my sister."

As Treston was beginning to panic, a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. Clarion's soft voice rang musically in his ears. "Leave her go, Lord Therapon. The woman needs only rest. She has suffered terribly this hour but the pain will soon subside and she will be as good as new. You go help the others. I will sing a healing song as only sisters of the House of Elinor can do. Go."

Treston stared over his shoulder at Clarion, tears filling his eyes. "I cannot," he choked, speaking slightly above a whisper. "I cannot leave, for my heart must remain here or die."

Squeezing his shoulder, Clarion replied reassuringly, "She will be fine. Even without my help, she will be fine. Our fathers do not destroy their children, especially one who is loved as dearly as Ysuah loves this child here. He is with us as we speak. Now go and help the others. Tell the captain she must use the powers given her to reach the enemy before it is too late. The entire universe has been set in motion. We must gather the fire to the forest. The hour is upon us."

Grudgingly, Treston listened to Clarion, explaining what he was told to a very confused Captain Gina. He then busied himself with assisting others aboard the ship as to their welfare. True to Clarion's word, Alynnou was soon up and about, but that is getting ahead of matters. Gina puzzled over what she had been told. How could the ship get back up to speed and pursue the enemy when most of their communication and navigation systems were in ruins? The answer came in bizarre and troubling ways, at least for the captain.

When Gina gripped the captain's rail on the bridge, a tingling rush of blinding energy flashed through her eyes and into her brain. Seeing beyond the bridge and crew, through her mind she witnessed the world surrounding the ship. Indeed, it seemed the entire universe was visible to her. In directing her attention, she could focus on any place or object within a week's journey of Razor's Edge. The coordinates of any chosen object would appear in her mind, seeing numbers, times and locations as if viewing a detailed, three-dimensional map screen.

And then there were the communication systems. Gina soon found herself speaking with the captains of Salee and DafniiRea by using mind speech. Never had she had such powers. The woman could hear the voices of dozens of people speaking all at once. It took some practice before she could filter out the nonsense speech and concentrate on more important talking. Still, in relatively short order, Razor's Edge was speeding toward a rendezvous with destiny.

(Author's Note _: Captain GinaFounnah continued to develop her newly acquired abilities, becoming highly skilled in their use, something that did not go unnoticed by her superiors. SirionSandevar's book 'Children of the Cherubs' provides an exhaustive history of this woman's short but illustrious career in Special Forces service. Eighteen months after Darla's rescue, the newly appointed Group Commander GinaFounnah led a contingency of WolfPack Marauders in pursuit of the retreating enemy after the battle of Tolkah Bay. Her ship, Razor's Edge, went off the charts somewhere near the Trizentine, its fate unknown until long after the war had ended._

_As a side note, during the beginning phases of the King's War, the attrition rate among the small, deep space WolfPack Marauders was extremely high. Fully sixty percent of the original enlistees did not survive the first four years of the war._ )

DafniiRea first reached the packet, Paz, adrift with its life supports systems shut down. Entering the derelict ship, the boarding team found six bodies of the murdered crew and another of a woman dressed in a Marine officer's uniform. Upon receiving DafniiRea's report by low band range signal, it being the only communication frequency Razor's Edge could transmit in, Captain Gina ordered 'full ahead' making for the retreating Haisely.

It was Salee that first observed Haisely reducing speed. By this time, Razor's Edge had again gotten its communications and navigations systems operational. Upon request from Razor's Edge, Salee held back until all three marauders came within attack range of Haisely. By this time, the brigantine has slowed considerably and was drifting toward the North, Q-west.

"Scullers off, Captain!" the communication's officer cried. "Salee reports seeing them depart Haisely, currently running hard toward the east. They request what action you wish taken."

Gina rubbed her chin before replying. "Tell them to leave 'em go. I feel our prize is still aboard the brig."

In rapid succession, both of the other marauders resigned command of the following operation to Captain Gina. She conferred with her fellow officers, requesting Treston and Chasileah remain on the bridge with her. It was decided to split up their forces, Salee moving far to the port of Haisely and DafniiRea hanging aft and far starboard. Razor's Edge would slide in from behind, hailing Haisely to surrender while advancing to within torpedo range.

"Haisely, this is the king's ship, Razor's Edge! Surrender your helm and shut down your engines or we will open fire."

"Captain," the navigation officer excitedly cried, looking back toward Gina, "Haisely is not responding. It is maintaining speed and continues turning toward the North, Q-west!"

"Arm forward torpedoes!" Gina ordered her gunnery officer. "Aim for the abaft boiler room. On my mark..."

"Aye!" The officer then communicated the command to the torpedo room.

"Hail Haisely again!" Captain Gina ordered the communications officer. "Tell them to surrender their helm immediately or we will be forced to attack."

Gina waited another thirty seconds. She then turned to Treston. "Colonel, you've put me into this fix. What do you desire? Shall we torpedo our own ship?"

Before Treston could reply, the first officer called out, "Haisely's defense shields are down, Captain. She continues to turn toward the north, but it is also beginning to yaw. There may be no one at the helm."

Gina spoke up, "Ask Salee to give us a status report. Find out if Haisely's other defenses are on line or evidence of any suspicious activity."

A moment later the communications officers reported back, "Salee can find no activity, Captain. Haisely continues on its same circular course. Nothing's changed other than the energy shields are down."

"What do you wish to do, Colonel?" Gina asked. "Should I place a torpedo in its boiler?"

Treston shook his head, "No, Captain. Let's board her. Always wanted to be a pirate... Let's take her."

"The devil take us all!" Gina gripped her forehead with her opened hand, looked across the bridge and back at Treston. "That's probably what they want us to do, bringing down the shields and all. We have no boarding craft, meaning we'll have to go in with all hands. If it's a trap, we'll be goners."

Treston agreed, then countered, "If we torpedo the ship with its shields down, we could possibly destroy the entire ship. At least that's what I've heard say. If Queen Adaya is still aboard, we cannot risk such an attack. If we don't attempt a boarding, what is our other option, wait until the Navy arrives with its big guns and boarding scullers?"

Gina responded, "You're right. We can't wait. We don't even know if the Navy's received any of our transmissions. We'll have to go in if there's any hope of rescuing Colonel Adaya. (News of Darla's promotion was not generally known at that time.) She contacted the other marauders, requesting they pull into support positions. Without further ado, the captain set Razor's Edge on an intercept course with Haisely.

Captain Gina asked the others to remain quiet as she gripped the bridge rail and closed her eyes. Struggling to concentrate on Haisely to the point of profuse sweating, Gina was finally able to locate what she considered the most reasonable docking point. When satisfied, she opened her eyes, commenting, "We'll drop in behind the port engine exhaust vents, securing our docking hooks to the guy anchors and locking our transport tube over the bosun's hatch. It's the least secure area on Haisely, they being unable to bring any of their guns to bear on us there. After blowing the hatch, we should find ourselves in a maintenance locker that will exit us onto several decks.

"The corridors should be especially narrow in that part of the ship, taking away any advantage in numbers the enemy may have. I'm not sure where our girl may be, but I assume she will be secured in one of the holding areas which will be further aft the ship, nearer our point of entry. And, if the fight is overwhelming, some of us may survive a retreat back to our ship."

She reached out, grasping Treston's forearm. "I know you will demand to accompany us, but I must request that you only enlist experienced sailors or Marines in your company to tag along. My people are well trained in boarding procedures. It is a complex and dangerous work. Over-zealous or inexperienced soldiers can get us all killed."

Treston acknowledged Gina's orders and hurried away to assemble his boarding party. Needless to say, Clarion and her fellow companions from EpipHaneia were disappointed and even angered, but they obeyed Treston's wishes, the man finally deciding to take only Sirion and Daisho, both experienced naval veterans.

When Clarion begged one more time to accompany the team, Treston took her hand. "Captain Gina's right and we'll do what she says. Besides, if the enemy overpowers us, Razor's Edge may well have to be defended. With most of the captain's crew going in, you'll be needed here in case that happens. Our primary mission is to get Ishtar and the other evidence back to Palace City. That you must do if we fail here."

There were more halfhearted protests, but after Treston ordered his crew to prepare for defensive battle, everyone went to their posts and readied for action. On his way to the boarding hatch, Treston quickly stopped by the makeshift medical bay to see Alynnou. Reassured she was rapidly recovering, he hurried forward where the others who were already suiting up.

After arriving, Treston readied himself. His attire was similar to the others, an environmental suit to help protect from poisons and other contaminants, a short fighting knife, and a two-handed, stubby-barreled energy rifle. Energy weapons were preferred for in-ship fighting...less risk to the ship.

Captain Gina's Marines were preparing to go in first. They were dressed in heavy suits with independent air systems. When the Marines had secured the drop zone, they would call for the others who would follow in two groups of six, it being the capacity of the air lock on Razor's Edge. Captain Gina and Treston would go in with the first group. Sirion and Daisho were to follow up in the second. If all went well, they would split up into three teams of four, leaving Gina's Marines to protect the dispersal area until it was considered safe enough to bring in a follow-up team from the marauder to replace them. Clarion was told members from her party could make up that team.

Treston's heart raced as he listened to the ship's engine slow. Feeling a slight jolt and then hearing the quiet hiss of the boiler shutting down told him they were secured to Haisely. Waiting for Captain Gina's arrival from the bridge, he pondered his life now from when he was an officer in the legions.

Funny, he thought, the war was so different here with all the machines replacing the muscle and might of his old army. Yet the feelings were the same, the emotions still just as intense. He guessed that war was war no matter the technology. When a body felt death approaching, it mattered little in what way it might come. After all, it was a near impossibility to convince the heart that the demise of the flesh did not end all things. Faith in the mind living on was little reassurance to a heart desiring not to surrender a breath to the abyss of unconscious time.

Captain Gina arrived, busy fastening up her environmental suit. Glancing up at Treston, she asked, "Are you still a go?" which he confirmed. As the Marines entered the airlock, she explained, "General Chasileah has the bridge. Jonathan's with her...good team...can handle anything that may come."

The light turned green on the air lock rapidly followed by a muffled ' _clank_ ' when the boarding tube locked itself over the bosun's hatch. Soon came a report from the planted explosives and the echo of the broken hatch smashing its way across the maintenance locker. In less than a minute, the Marines had signaled the others to come.

The now red light of the airlock flashed green again and the door opened. Gina motioned her team ahead. "On with it!" She disappeared through the door.

* * *

Gentle fingers softly caressed the hairs on Darla's arm. The woman opened her eyes, seeing into the ghostly, smiling face of a bearded warrior. "Phulakee? Is that really you or do I dream in the Field of the Minds?"

Phulakee reached out, touching Darla's face ever so softly, quietly crooning, "Rise, my child, for the glory of Lagandow waits upon you. Rise and take vengeance for your sisters whose murderers stand beyond this door. My daughter, Joleck, has not betrayed you, but a false witness has made it appear so. Treasonous acts must be repaid upon the wicked. You must seek retribution for the evil committed against the Cherubs' children."

Darla sat, resting on her elbows, moaning in pain, "I am broken severely. My Lord, no strength do I possess to even stand. And should I become so bold, no weapon do I have to avenge even myself."

Phulakee quietly disagreed. "My daughter must overcome the sadness in her heart. The world grows ever darker yet the night is just begun. You are a shining light, bringing hope to a people losing all hope."

At that instant, a blinding flame erupted in front of Darla's eyes, throwing her back, the woman hitting her head hard enough so that it bounced twice against the floor.

(Author's note: _That same moment on Razor's Edge, a fiery eruption engulfed the cabin where Alynnou sat, blowing the door off its frame. This was believed to be when her chanting words released the fury of the Divine Light, a power that still reverberates across your universe to this day. But that is a story for another time_.)

As Darla laid there, the world lazily spinning around in her head, the woman could hear the faintest of whispers, like a voice on a fading breeze. "Do not forget your mother's gift. It ever guards your soul and heart. Life is breath and breath is life. All sons and blades upon it thrive."

Darla would have disregarded those winsome words as the silly prattle of a hallucinating mind but her heart burned in a way to convince her otherwise. What was her mother's gift? She could not concentrate. Loneliness began to envelope her, thinking how Euroaquilo would know what to do. Euroaquilo...Euroaquilo! At their final meeting on Admiral Lonche, he had given her a gift from Mother, something he said she had left at the prisoner exchange.

" _Phulakee!"_ She cried aloud. Darla had not seen her sword since the battle with her demon, believing it was gone since the Cherub, Phulakee, was revealed to her. Could it still exist? Could she call it to her? How? Darla tried to recall what the sword had spoken to her mind that day when she and Euroaquilo examined it together. "Let's see..." Yes, now she remembered. "I must only think it to me! Think it! Think it!"

Closing her eyes, Darla envisioned the sword as she remembered it, falcata in appearance, a long cubit in length, beautifully crafted and bejeweled. Darla began to feel a tingling in her arm that raced up to her shoulder and finally across and through her entire body. Revitalized, she sat, a warm glow healing her many aches. Rubbing her hands on her damaged leg, she found the torn limb healed and strong.

Darla stood, stretching to feel for signs of lingering injuries. There were none. She spread her feet, and with arms out from her sides, she closed her eyes and began a chant of words never before uttered in this world of men, words formed long before there was speech, before flesh and blood, before the universe began, words known only to her heart but not her mind. Those words remain secret to this day, for they are the words like a wedding vow made between a maiden and her lover. The marriage of flesh and spirit is most sacred. That day, a daughter of flesh gave herself to the spirit of a Cherub, bonded forever as one, never to be torn asunder.

A warm wave of energy flowed up Darla's arm. She opened her eyes to see a shimmering, blue-white blade pulsing bright in harmony with the beating of her heart. A tooled leather strap draped her shoulder, supporting the sword's scabbard. No longer was the chamber filled with the blackness of despair, but glowed with a surety of release.

Outside the munitions vault, the storage bay filled with the sound of hurrying feet. Several men tramped toward Darla's prison, one...a guard...attempting to explain the reason for his calling the alarm. "I took a peek inside and...and there I saw a glowing light, a fire, I say, dancing around the room."

The sergeant snorted, "Fool! Stupid idiot! Told ya to stay off the wine until our mission was done! That too much to ask, even of asses like you?"

The guard shook his head, waving his arms. "No Sir! No Sir! None of us took any liquor at all! I'm telling ya, Sergeant, there was a bunch of noise in there and we took a look, seeing somethin' a glowin' in there." He pointed toward the other guards. "Ask 'em! They'll tell ya!"

"Aaaa, shut up!" The sergeant waved them off. "You've been tippin' it too much. What ya' afraid of anyway? Just a busted up tramp of a woman in there... You pulled her from the wreck, remember? Probably poked her, too, while she was out, knowin' you stinkers." The sergeant lifted the shield covering the tempered glass window in the door. "Let's take a look to see what the huff's all about." He bent forward, nose to glass.

The sergeant's arms suddenly shot up and his hands smacked against the outside of the munitions vault. In shocked horror, the guards watching saw a blinding white blade protrude several inches out of the man's back. Then, just as quickly, it vanished, disappearing into his flesh.

Before the sergeant's dying body could sink to the floor, there came three concussive blasts from inside the vault, each one sending flaming sparks and chunks of metal into the storage bay. The guards stared in disbelief, watching as if in slow motion while the door to the munitions vault fell forward, crushing the sergeant's body flat when it crashed onto the deck.

What they saw in the opening terrified the guards. The woman, crippled and broken when they had pulled her from the destroyed rail coach was now standing erect, flaming blade in hand. Yet even more terrifying was that she stood also a burning fire of static energy. Phulakee's words, 'You are a shining light...' were revealing themselves as literal.

"Help us! Help us!" a guard screamed into the intercom, his cries cut short as his head tumbled from his shoulders, severed by a spinning blade of burning steel. Aghast, the others watched in astonishment as the flying sword returned like a boomerang to its owner's hand. In less than a heartbeat, three more men had been sawn asunder, the one surviving guard fleeing from the storage bay toward the captain's bridge, the bay doors slamming shut behind him.

In moments, two dozen troopers in battle gear and carrying energy rifles were rushing toward the storage bay, frozen in their tracks by a blood-curdling howl from some kind of a wild beast.

One trooper cried out in terror, _"It's the demon from the Abyss! The Therioskotia has risen from the depths of Hell!"_

Doors buckled and bolts exploded, throwing the troopers into confusion. Suddenly, the walls of the storage bay bulged outward. Another bone-chilling howl and the bay doors flew open, ripping loose from the bulkhead.

"Die!" Darla screamed, as she dove through the opening, plunging her sword into the closest trooper. In only moments, the decks were running with streams of blood as the enraged monster from the depths below sliced and tore her way along the crowded corridors. Close to thirty troopers fell, most while trying to flee certain death. Energy weapons were no good, their blasts only seeming to feed the beast. It was not long before survivors were retreating toward the flight decks in search of escape.

The carnage continued while Darla advanced along the passageways and up the three levels to the captain's bridge. Dozens of dismembered and ruined bodies littered the ship by the time she entered the quarterdeck and stealthily made her way to the ladder of the captain's bridge. By now the woman was dripping wet with blood, leaving crimson footprints as she quietly climbed the ladder.

"Bastards! Wouldn't be in this mess if those bastards hadn't left their posts!" the officer snarled as he and his first mate worked the control panel to free the scullers from their securing nests and deliver them to the flight deck. "I'll skin those apes alive when I catch hold of 'em!"

The first mate grinned, pushing some control buttons. "There! We're free to go. Our shuttle will be waiting for us." He turned to receive his congratulations and caught a glimpse of something moving behind them. In less than a heartbeat, he had pulled his holstered, solid projectile handgun up and released a fiery blast into a much-surprised intruder, hitting the bloodied demon in the left shoulder.

With a cry, more of rage than pain, Darla was spun around from the concussive blast. The projectile tore into her flesh, splintering her collarbone, ripping up tendons and muscle. But the woman did not think of the injury or just how mortal her flesh really was. She used the energy from the projectile combined with her own body mass to spin full circle, throwing her sword like an axe at the officer as she completed her spin. The sword point entered the man's forehead, sticking deep, splitting his skull nearly in two. With a choking gasp, the officer's body flopped back atop the control panel, his flailing arms hitting levers and buttons, bringing down the ship's defense shields and altering its course.

The pain from Darla's wound finally reached her brain. With a groan, she staggered, nearly falling as she searched with her right hand to study the damage done. The commander, fully alert to Darla's situation, seized the moment and went for the sword buried in his lieutenant's head. With a scream of agony, he reeled back and fell to the floor, his hand burned to the bone by a very unhappy weapon that did not appreciate being fondled by a stranger.

Darla groggily watched, surprised by what was happening. She nearly fell but caught herself in time. Still having presence of mind to will the sword back to her, Darla reached toward Phulakee with an outstretched hand. Crying out to the weapon with a deep guttural howl in some ancient language, the woman chanted, "TuoShumaii! PhulakiShumbii!", meaning 'To my heart, Father! Give me strength!', repeating it over and over.

As he clutched his tortured hand, the commander stared in disbelief as the sword began working itself loose from the dead first mate, becoming more agitated in its struggle until with a _'pop!'_ it came free. In an instant, it was resting securely in the demon's hand.

Again, Darla could feel a warm, revitalizing energy flowing through her. Bleeding from her wound eased and her senses became sharper. Standing in less of a crouch, she staggered forward, slowly advancing toward the commander. His face went ashen with fear. He could clearly see the veins in the demon's neck bulge with the pulsing of its heart. And the demon's eyes, their angry stare froze his bones while her face, although filled with evil intent, made his heart race with passion. Cowering against the side of the control panel, the commander begged for mercy. "Please! Please, my Lord of Lords! Please have mercy upon a fool! Do not send my soul to the world of shadow, to languish forever in the never lands."

Darla stopped, her sword only inches from the man's face. She tilted her head, puzzled, asking, "So you are a believer, too, as are the pirates of damnation who live in forgotten lands? Is this common among your kind?"

The man lowered his gaze toward the floor, nodding, shaking in fear and sobbing, "Yes! Yes, my Lord! Many are the believers in the Therioskotia and the land our mother has condemned us to...the Abyss of Darkness from which there is no escape. We speak not of it for fear our leaders shall do away with us, they having no faith in Mother's words."

These fools had surrendered to the stories from those whose minds had long ago slipped into the world of the black madness. The Therioskotia was a Stasis invention, the monster that haunted their underworld. Darla was even more curious now, but time was not on her side. She must do something about the moment. Even with her sword, she could feel energy slowly draining from her body.

"Where is the crew of this ship?!" she demanded.

Startled, the commander looked bewildered, having to think a moment before answering.

Darla growled again, "What did you do with the crew of this ship?! How did you come about getting it?"

The understanding of the demon's question flashed across the commander's face. He answered, "We were told where to find it. Most of the crew was already dead...some kind of leprosy, I think. We wore suits to get in and clean up."

"What did you do with them?!" Darla angrily demanded as she shook her sword in front of his face.

Filled with growing dread, the commander stuttered, "We...we burned them...in... in...the ship's garbage incinerator."

Darla screamed in grief, her laments uttered in curses and oaths of a language unknown to the children of her world. She lifted her sword to bring it down upon the commander's head, holding it there, her mind and heart racing with memories of Joleck's love and the hopeless, shattered dreams of longed-for passion. Oh how she wanted to destroy this animal who stole those wonderful dreams!

Joleck's loving touch, her embrace, her tender caresses, the warm, rich taste of her flowing sweet, sweet milk. It was too much for Darla's heart to bear. She could hear Joleck's love songs, the girl suckling like a child as the refreshment of a mother's love splashed on her tongue and trickled down her throat. This man and his evil people had stolen from her love the likes of which she never before experienced. He should feed the hungry child now. She had not eaten for hours and his blood fresh and warm. After all, wasn't milk little more than blood transformed?

The commander looked up into the face of a raging monster. He cowered, seeing the demon salivating as it opened its mouth in a garish grin. _'Splat! Splat!'_ The monster's drool ran off its jowls, hitting the floor.

Darla's belly ached with famished craving, her ears pounding with the throbbing beat of her starving heart, but Joleck's most haunting warning echoed continuously in the back of her head. 'Should you become the beast you say you are then all will have been for naught. You, yourself, shall have brought our world to ruin.'

Joleck's words had a telling effect. Darla the woman managed to tame Darla the monster seeking its revenge. Very slowly, the woman forced the beast into relinquishing its hold on Darla. With a great deal of effort, she lowered her weapon.

Darla's steely eyes glared at the commander, silently pondering what to do. And what to do must be decided quickly. Already a throbbing ache was increasing in Darla's left arm, her fingers gradually going numb. She must do something soon or she was going to succumb to fatigue. Would the commander give her pardon should she collapse before him? She doubted it. First Darla had to find a way to stop her own bleeding, but not with the enemy so close. He must be killed. No! Then what?

"Get up!" Darla growled, "Go to your people! Leave before I change my mind."

She stepped back, allowing space for the commander to escape. He quickly squeezed around Darla and promptly started for the ladder, having moved only a few feet when another person shouted, "Halt or die!" The commander threw up his hands, howling in fright.

Darla looked up to see Sirion on the bridge ladder, her lanner pointed directly at the commander.

The man, in a panic, his face white as a sheet, glanced back and forth, first at Sirion and then at Darla. He cried out, "Demons?! How many demons?!"

Darla followed the commander's eyes, seeing Sirion for the first time since her adventures at EpipHaneia. Her mouth opened, agape. The woman's next older sister looked much like her...the eyes and the fangs. Now she understood the commander's distress. But this was no time to ponder matters.

"Leave him go..." Fatigue from Darla's long ordeal was revealing itself in the woman's voice. In fading breath, she ordered Sirion, "Give the fool safe passage...him and the others. We will meet another day."

Sirion was not so easily swaged. "Are you sure? I need not shoot him twice."

Darla wearily shook her head. "Another day, Sister...another day."

Sirion grudgingly obeyed, hungrily eyeing the man as she made her way onto the captain's bridge. Standing erect, she snarled, her teeth gleaming white, "Get, you!"

Calling over her shoulder to warn others below, Sirion shouted, "Give this fool his passage!" She motioned the man to leave.

There was no hesitation on the commander's part. He hurried away, babbling on half-crazed about demons and monsters. Treston and another Marine followed behind to make sure the commander didn't dawdle. When the man's footsteps had long echoed away, Sirion turned and hurried to Darla's side.

Phulakee clattered onto the deck after slipping from Darla's hand. Sirion caught her sister as she collapsed. Just before passing into unconsciousness, Darla half mumbled, "According to the laws of the privateers and the king, I claim this prize for the Navy of a free people who gather against the forces of evil. I name it 'EkdikesisJoleck', 'Joleck's Revenge'."

She then looked up into Sirion's eyes, muttering as she passed out, "You're like me..."

* * *

Alba ached with fatigue. She was shaking, soaking-wet from the bone-chilling rain, and her ears hurt from the constant artillery barrage that had been pummeling the lines all that day, her right ear not yet fully healed. Now the wind had picked up, driving an icy fog through the Tendian Forest.

"Fool! Damn fool of a woman! Did this for a lark, didn't you?! Had to prove something to yourself. 'Oh, I must be in the battle!'" Alba angrily shook her head. "Next time you may be a little more careful what you wish for."

Distancing herself from Northern Army Headquarters, Alba hurried to her own command car, an unheated quarter-deuce with canvas doors and top. She could see Kfir waiting, calmly leaning against it while releasing billowing puffs of smoke that were whisked away in the gathering breeze. His pipe had been a gift from an old acquaintance, one of the Tarezabarians convalescing at the PrasiaOdous Medical Terminal. The bowl was made of a burl from a rock walnut tree...at least that was how Alba remembered it...located on some distant planet the Tarezabarians once visited. Whatever, Kfir liked to puff on it, and the pipe weed he used did so much appeal to Alba, he often lighting up in their tent as she drifted off to sleep. Just the thought of that aromatic fragrance with a trace of vanilla and almond stirred her emotions, some of which she preferred not to dwell on at the moment.

Shaking her head and sucking in a deep breath, Alba forced her mind back to more pressing matters. The hour was late, night would soon arrive, and then the army would again be on the move. General Winehardt had sent her new colonel north to serve as the general's advisor under Brigadier General BruunTaciak during the coming campaign, trusting her new staff officer was up to such great responsibility.

This was the real thing. Alba must prove her stuff or forever feel the fool for seducing General NoazOhfehr into giving her release to return to battle. At least it was how it felt to her at the moment. Kfir had been the first man in this new world to stir her heart. Even then she had not shared her bed with him until returning to duty three days ago. Indeed, other than some fleeting hours spent with her former husband, James, Alba had not been intimate with anyone until Noaz for a very, very long time.

Kfir looked up to see Alba, still some distance away. He smiled ever so softly, tipping his head as he did. Alba nearly swooned, followed by feelings of guilt. Why? Her night spent with Noaz was acceptable. Even if she had not been helping the man understand the women of her world better, even if she was only seeking fleshly satisfaction, it would have been acceptable in these peoples' eyes.

"Damn!" Alba snorted under her breath to herself. "Damn it all to Hell! I live here now, not in some god-awful place where righteous bigotry rules. Leave me be so I can enjoy what gifts have been given me! Stop making foul-smelling the few pleasures I have found in this hell hole of a place!" She angrily kicked at a clod of mud in the pathway.

Kfir hurried around the car, opening the passenger door with a grin, calling out to Alba, "The weather matches your mood, Colonel. Have you been talking to the breeze again?"

Silent, Alba walked up to Kfir, scowling. She could clearly see the man with her mind, wishing so much so to see him with her eyes. Pushing that feeling aside, she leaned forward, kissing Kfir on his lips. Taking his hand and drawing him near, she whispered in his ear, "We leave in less than two hours and there is still much work to do before we go. But I have half an hour to do with as I please. And should we die on this eve, I want to remember your sweet love. Find us some place where we can be alone for a little while. I need your company."

Kfir was surprised, but agreeable. "My Lady, you have changed in the overnight to...to become someone quite different. There's a spot not far from here, warm and dry, and we can be alone."

Alba pushed Kfir, hurrying him to get the machine started. "Then we shall be going! Quickly! Then I shall die a happy woman."

"Aaagraah! Aaagraah! Oh God, I'm dying!" Alba was leaning out an opened portal of the troop transport, puking up yesterday's lunch. It couldn't be today's, not after this much vomiting. If she hurled again, it must certainly be her innards she'd be expunging. Green-faced, she cried out in anguish as her intestines contorted into even more constricting knots. No one was laughing.

Kfir gently rubbed Alba's back, softly offering his reassurance. "Few are those who survive the horrors of combat who do not relapse into fitted memories when confronted with similar circumstances. You are not alone with your demons. Many are the ones standing at the windows, surrendering their meals to the heavens."

Alba leaned back, falling into Kfir's waiting arms, he easing her to the crowded floor. She bowed her head in remorse, recalling, "We were packed like cattle in the slaughter pens. There was no place to run, to hide." Taking Kfir's hand, Alba rested her head on his shoulder. As tears streamed down her face, she moaned, "I see only the souls of those ripped and torn, scattered upon the ground, all twisted and broken. The sounds of death and dying torment my ears. My nose smells the internals of those sawn asunder, and my tongue tastes the gore of their excrement and blood."

Kfir nodded with understanding. "I also survived the day in such a manner. Yet if it had not been for that horrendous hour, should you and I have been united together? On that day of unspeakable horror, fate found us and I am so glad it did."

Instantly the nightmarish visions fled Alba's mind as her heart leaped with painful joy. She blurted out, "Then you do love me?!"

Whispering in her ear, Kfir answered, "Through you I have come to comprehend Mother's love. Never have I fathomed what it really means, that is until I found you. I fell in love with you that day on the tortured plain of death, but didn't understand it until I saw you torn and wounded when we carried you from the field after rescuing the VoshanShar crew. Yes I love you, in strange and troubling ways, unlike any other woman I've known."

"Colonel?!" General BruunTaciak called out as he worked his way through the crowded transport. "Colonel Alba?"

Struggling to sit up, Alba choked out, "Here, General. Here."

"Ah well, Colonel!" General BruunTaciak was cheerily upbeat and pleasant. He saw Alba's condition, but had learned many wars ago to maintain morale by always being pleasant and positive. He reached into his pocket and took out a sweet chew, shoving into Alba's hand. "Colonel, we shall be landing in fifteen minutes. KorkenZenskie has surrendered to our advance forces. Being taken totally by surprise, they put up little resistance. The GorkenzkieTravlar defenses are another matter... quite a fight. I've relocated the Twelfth and Sixteenth Regiments into that sector. We will be following them in. I'll set up our command post there."

The general then turned to the others, calling out loudly, "Seal the hatches and secure your hazard suits. We're going down into some rather stormy weather. Man your post and stand the emergency hatches. It might get rough for awhile. Remember, we're several hundred leagues north from where we started and the ship's heaters don't work outside. Bundle up and stay alert. It's cold up here, real cold."

Turning back to Alba, General BruunTaciak smiled, pointing toward the sweet chew. "Take that, Colonel. It'll ease the stomach a bit." He frowned, "Never meant for your kind to suffer this...you know the war and all. Hoped to have it finished before you came. Almost succeeded with the last war. Didn't work out, though. Still, damned glad you're with us. Makes this fight easier to take, knowing we have allies like you." He turned and hurried away.

Alba's eyes silently followed the general while taking the sweet chew and resting her head back on Kfir again. She closed her eyes in thought. The KorkenZenskie oil fields and GorkenzkieTravlar uranium mines were critical to the Navy's ability to remain at full strength over MueoPoros. Legion had given little consideration to those facts until only recently, and then mainly to GorkenzkieTravlar, seeing little value of such commodities to his war effort along with his failure to considers his enemy's needs.

(Author's note _: Legion's military was long established before the war, using the latest of technology and fuels of the day. Uranium and oil were little appreciated, except in common applications, and were not important to his military machine. It was well into the first winter before he realized the high value placed on those commodities by his enemy. Garlock's wonders had resurrected the need for such as fuels and in manufacturing. Still he hesitated reinforcing the region until late that winter, and then mainly adding to GorkenzkieTravlar's defenses for other, more personal reasons. Also, even after their capture, he refused to mount a campaign to retake them, his obsession over holding Memphis and harassing the PrasiaOdous Navy Terminals being paramount in his mind_.)

With Kfir's assistance, Alba managed to stand. The portal was quickly closed, the whistle of the bitter wind silenced. Checking her gear, Alba zipped her jacket, pulling her hood up, covering her helmeted blast shield and securing it to her filter mask. She then reached up, making sure the shoulder straps and binders to her parachute were secure.

Now there was little to do but wait the moment. Speaking was laborious at best, even with electronic communication devices. Why, breathing was even difficult. Alba had sympathy for those who had not yet gained control of their stomachs, watching with pity as those still sick had no warning of sudden purges, filling filter masks before they could be removed. Long would this woman remember the sights and sounds of those last fifteen minutes of flight. Yet the world Alba was to soon to enter would prove even more profound in shaping her future as Endor the Enchantress.

The Twelfth and Sixteenth Regiments had their work cut out for them. Even with the Navy's dominance of the skies, enemy Depoues 49's and low-flying gunships managed breakthroughs, wreaking havoc upon the heavily laden transports. Though not a disaster of the magnitude seen by Alba during the PrasiaOdous invasion, the destruction of lives and materials was still significant, considering the numbers involved.

Although advanced Marine units had secured safe landing zones and their gunships pummeled enemy defenses, the first wave composed mainly of the Sixteenth Regiment and Rangers from Special Forces suffered twenty percent casualties. The enemy ground forces, dug in deep, defended GorkenzkieTravlar with intense tenacity, even staging an occasional counteroffensive. By the time General BruunTaciak's transport landed, the Sixteenth was down by over seven hundred soldiers.

Alba stepped into the darkness of the bitter cold morning, ripping away her filter mask to suck in an exhilarating breath of freedom. Her senses were, instead, smothered by the realities of war...cordite, acrid smoke from burning machines, and the odor of charred flesh...oh, the terrible, sweet smell one never got used to.

(Author's note: _In my recent interview with Alba, Endor the Enchantress, she confided that, to this day, the smell of roasting meats is not to her liking and rarely does she partake of such common delights_.)

At Kfir's suggestion, Alba hurried away from the transport, an enticing target for an enemy aircraft. Damage in the area was significant. Dozens of wrecked transports in various stages of ruination littered the landscape. Most of the wounded had been cared for and the dead removed. Still, from what remained, the colonel could well see in her mind what it must have been like during the first landings. She shuddered at her own recollections of war.

In short order, General Brunn was set up in makeshift headquarters. Sounds of fighting were far to the southeast. The general's brigade was scattered around GorkenzkieTravlar in a huge crescent, leaving the eastern portion open in the hopes the enemy would seek escape instead of death or surrender. Already the uranium processing facilities were in their hands as well as one of the mines, but it was the city itself that seemed to be what the enemy was most unwilling to surrender.

Alba watched the glow of the burning city lighting the southern night sky. Tomorrow or the next day, when fighting their way into it, Brunn's soldiers would find little to remind them that GorkenzkieTravlar was once a thriving metropolis of well over fifty thousand. Gone forever would be its former works of art and science that decorated its gymnasiums and theaters for well over three thousand millennia. The renowned Library UkinSkiac was only smoldering rubble. One day a lone monument would be placed in the city's forgotten center commemorating the gallantry of Taciak's Fourth Armored Battalion for pushing the enemy from its ruins, that monument being the only evidence of GorkenzkieTravlar's long existence.

A sudden roar in the sky startled Alba. She ducked and started to dart for cover. Kfir shouted above the noise of the approaching machines that they were 'friendlies'. Looking up, the woman saw the cruisers TubiShumia and Rochester soar overhead, leading a half dozen supply ships. They began to circle while the supply ships scattered over a two square mile area, settling down to make delivery of the armor and reinforcements as well as the general's staff vehicles, including Alba's command car. By morning light, the colonel would be in transit for the front lines seeking a progress report to send back to General Winehardt.

* * *

"Push 'em! Send the souls of the damned to the fires beyond the river!" Merna let out a blood-curdling, yipping scream as she charged into the darkness, her squad following in hot pursuit, filling the night sky with the banshee screeches they were becoming known for.

"Damn!" Colonel CholbeninLakthi fussed. "That woman puts the hairs up on the back of my neck every time she does that. Nearly wet myself just then."

He turned to his master sergeant. "You bring her to me as soon as may be. Sooner, if possible..."

"Yes, Sir!" the sergeant answered crisply, darting off in the direction of the cries.

Merna dove over the enemy earthworks, somersaulting onto her feet as she landed behind two very surprised soldiers defending that part of the trench. In less than a heartbeat they lay dead, Merna's foul curses still being uttered as she cast her gaze down along the trench. In the blackness, she heard the sound of a body sliding into the narrow ditch then crunching in the dirt of approaching feet. Without hesitating, the sergeant let fly her sword.

Corporal AtishaHarual felt a stinging sensation as Merna's blade grazed her cheek, crying out, "Sergeant, it's me!" Then she heard a groan followed by someone falling hard to the ground. The next instant, the woman's hair caught the breeze of Merna's sword passing her head on its returning. She cursed under her breath then sighed, "Should have known the wizard was at her work."

"On my mark!" Merna shouted, as she pitched her blade into the sky.

Suddenly, a light blinding as the sun lit the night, illuminating the inner compound while keeping the trenches in gloom.

"Give 'em hell!" the sergeant screamed. Drawing her lanner, she jumped from the trench, taking aim for the command tent some thirty paces away.

In a few moments, the compound was again settled in darkness, Merna's sword nestled in its scabbard. Secreted in the darkness was the carnage wrought by the sergeant's tiny platoon of twelve women soldiers. Twenty of the enemy lay dead. The others had fled. Merna left no wounded on her field of battle nor showed any mercy. Something had changed in her the night she watched Lieutenant Maydaluem being murdered by the enemy. Now she murdered if need be and with no remorse.

There were other things that were different about the woman, too. What Jonathan and Chasileah had awakened in the forest not long before was now strengthened by Alynnou's releasing of the Divine Light, an ancient energy used to build the very foundations of the universe. Among other things, Merna now possessed keen eyesight, even seeing in the blackest of nights as though it was morning bright. And her sergeant's sword was changed to a weapon with a mind and power of its own, sharing its strength as one with Merna's mind and soul.

Finding Corporal AtishaHarual, Merna told her to report that their objective was met and that they were awaiting orders. In a few minutes, the company captain replied that the 'good sergeant was to return to company headquarters and leave the corporal in command'. Puzzled, Merna acknowledged the order and was soon on her way back.

Ten minutes later, Merna found herself standing in front of Colonel CholbeninLakthi, the man frowning, in a serious tone, asking, "So, Sergeant, you think your squad is up to this?"

Merna placed her fingers on the ragged map, moving them ever so carefully over the hand drawn lines. She looked up at the colonel, wondering, "How accurate are these sketches, Sir? Can I trust them, or is there treachery to be found in them?"

The colonel stood erect. "Sergeant, this map and the accompanying drawings of the reactor have been copied from prints that are over seven hundred years old. The reactor itself was built during the days of peace, long before the Rebellion, but I doubt little there has changed. It is only a minor source of revenue for Legion and he rarely uses this form of energy himself, trading most of what's produced here to more distant colonies in need of such power, and that mainly to secure their loyalty. Other than the outer fortifications recently built, I believe we can trust the information on these papers."

Closing her eyes, Merna concentrated, attempting to conjure three-dimensional reality from two-dimensional line drawings. Finally she answered, "I will need my corporal, she being a highly qualified soldier. And...and I wish to take only two others from my squad with me. If these maps and drawings are correct, we will get your people in there. If they're not, then there's no need to get all my platoon killed."

"Very well, Sergeant." Colonel Cholbenin stepped back. "I will trust your judgment in this matter. From what I've heard, you've become quite something since you've returned to the field. That's why I picked you for this job."

The colonel looked off to the east. "We must take the reactor before the enemy can disable it, possibly sending it into meltdown. You have two hours before a general assault on this front begins. If that reactor isn't secured by then, and should the enemy choose to unleash the reactor's power...well, I think you understand."

Wasting no time, only twenty minutes had passed with Merna and her fellows stealthily working their way through the opening of one of the reactor's drainage pipes. As they hurried along, one of Colonel Cholbenin's people, Major ChinSuuBietia, leaned over and whispered in Merna's ear, "Sergeant, this is a hot water exhaust vent. If the enemy finds out we're here or if only by chance, we could be engulfed by a wall of boiling water at any instant."

Merna acknowledged the major's concerns. "Sir, I am well aware of such danger. Time is of the essence and, from my momentary glance at the drawings of this furnace, I found this route the most direct, yes, and a most foolhardy one to take. Yet its being the most foolhardy one also may make it the safest one, the enemy not believing any sane person would risk it."

Major ChinSuu soberly agreed. "It matters little now anyway. We have taken the path and there is no returning or regrets. I trust your judgment. You are our commander for this mission. Just get us to the control room and my people shall do the rest."

Merna plunged ahead into the blackness. She alone wore no night vision equipment, her senses so acute that day and night were all the same in the woman's mind. As the others hurried along as best they could, they listened to the faint echo of metal tapping against metal. Corporal Atisha grinned, thinking, 'The wizard must be up to her tricks again.'

By the time the others caught up, Merna was just finishing the removal of the steel grate section that was barring the party's path. She turned, cautioning, "Do be careful. The portal is tiny and the cut edges jagged. And from the looks of the corrosion, there may be poison in the metal." She then wiggled through the opening, quickly hurrying on, the sound of her footsteps rapidly falling into silence.

Merna understood little about radioactive isotopes, but she could feel the disquiet in her mind that something deadly pressed in upon her. If this was a drain pipe or overflow for the cooling system, then there must be a leak of some sort allowing nasties from the core to leach into the system. As she advanced along the tunnel, her temples began to throb with the straining beat of her heart. This was not a good place to be.

At length Merna came to a 'Y' junction. She stopped, puzzling over the situation. She was still deep in thought when the others caught up with her.

"Sorry we took so long," Major ChinSuu offered apologetically. "Some of us are not as small as you and your corporal here. We had a real time squeezing through that hole you made."

"Sir...Major," The troubling concern in Merna's voice was unmistakable. "I am at a loss concerning this door. And worse, I fear there is a terrible sickness lurking here with us."

"What is the problem, Sergeant?" the major asked. "And more troubling to me, what of this sickness you speak about?"

One of ChinSuu's people interrupted, "It's getting hot in here, Sir. The rads are high and the needle is rising. We can take this for only a few more minutes."

Merna concurred. "There is a throbbing in my head that is growing in power. It tells me that death is near. Major, I did not see such a configuration of tunnels on the prints the colonel showed me. And worse yet, when I touch this door, I feel a rising tumult inside like that of an angry dragon preparing to belch fire and smoke."

Major ChinSuu rested his hands on the hatch. He could not feel or hear what Merna described, but from the shape and appearance of it, he realized the danger they were in. "This is a blow-off valve or overload release valve. They must have reconfigured the boiler since the drawings were made. I bet the core's leaking, too. Legion hasn't wasted time and energy for repairs, I imagine. What about the other tunnel?"

Merna scowled, "Been walled up about ten rods from here." She looked at the major, dismayed. "Sir, I'm sorry. My heart told me not to trust those prints. I could feel it. Now we're all dead if we don't find a way out and soon."

Major ChinSuu countered, "I won't surrender the mission so easily, Sergeant. We have to find another way or die trying."

"The dying part I understand. We must find another way out or we all will die. Time is not on our side." Merna rested her hands on the valve again. "The dragon is awake and preparing to exhaust his breath."

Closing her eyes, Merna tried to concentrate, pushing her mind beyond the ever-growing throb that was becoming painful. She finally offered a solution. "About fifty paces back there's an old service tunnel that extends upwards and, if the drawings are correct, exits into some kind of maintenance area. When I passed it, it appeared to have been unused for some time. I fear it a very dangerous path."

"Do we have a choice?" Major ChinSuu asked, not waiting for an answer. "Sergeant, either we die here and soon or chance the upward move. Do you still lead us?"

Merna gripped the major's arm, defensiveness nearing that of anger apparent as she retorted, "I have never sold another's soul for my own, nor have I offered up my child without a fight. As long as there is breath in me, I will do my duty. My soul instead of yours... and don't you forget it!" She hurried away, calling for the others to follow.

Major ChinSuu paused, bewildered. Corporal Atisha leaned close, whispering, "They murdered her daughter back where she's from. Did what she could to stop them but still blames herself for it. Has nightmares about it all the time."

The major sadly nodded before hurrying himself and the others along. When he arrived at the exit tunnel, Merna had already climbed some distance upward.

It was not easy going for the sergeant. First she had been forced to jump several times in an attempt to catch the lowest remaining ladder rung. Then, after clawing her way into the narrow tube, found it so thickly corroded with layers of rust that every movement brought down huge chunks of filth, filling the stale air with its choking dust. To make matters worse, Merna found the rungs so damaged as to be unusable. She resorted to pushing on the tube with her feet while pressing her back against the other side, leveraging her hands to move upward.

Below, the tunnel was filling with choking, metallic, rusty particles. The major and the others backed away as best they could to escape the toxic barrage. For Merna, there was no escape. She struggled to breathe, all the while fighting a growing nauseousness and blinding headache. Inch by grueling inch, the woman worked her way upward, praying her strength would hold out.

The others silently waited below, realizing that this escape might be a fool's dream, yet the continued distant sounds of the grunts and moans encouraged them. Then silence. They waited and waited to hear something. Nothing... Just as Corporal Atisha prepared to call up, they heard a muffled scream. "You will not take her this time, damn you! Damn you all!" The falling clumps of slag and dust began anew as Merna returned to her upward struggle.

"Ouch!" Merna's hand hit hard against the locked hatch. It was as she assumed it would be, sealed and air tight. With spread fingers, she pressed her hands against it, sighing. She could feel the opening beyond the hatch, the fresh, life-saving air, the absence of the poison but there were also people, several of them. Where were they in relationship to the hatch? Worse yet, she could feel the dragon below growing in power.

There was nothing to do but chance opening the hatch if she could. Drawing her sergeant's sword, she probed for any space or gap in the seal. There was one little crack. Merna began to force the sword's point into it.

It was at this time that Merna noticed she was quietly singing a musical refrain, had been since her screaming bout. Strange...it was also the same moment her right hand had begun to pulse with warmth. Glancing at it, she saw the ring given her by Lowenah after her reawakening in the First Realm flashing a rainbow of colors in harmony with the warm pulsing that was slowly moving up her arm.

Merna leaned back, singing a silly tune. 'CharBotton Chigontee CharBee. Boiseia Boisiea BieBae. TooSai TooSai TooSai.' Each time she repeated it, the stronger she felt, the less the poison affected her thinking. With renewed energy, she drove the sword deeper into the crack.

At last ' _Chink!'_ Merna's blade contacted the catch. She let out a sigh of relief. Had this been a multi-pin lock system, the woman doubted there would have been time to cut through them all before losing consciousness. As it was, it took all of Merna's concentration just to get her sword to saw through the one locking bolt.

With a grunt, she managed to break the final part of the hasp holding the bolt. Then pulling down on the sword's hilt, using her blade like a pry bar, she cracked the seal and lifted the hatch ever so slightly. The fresh air flooding in felt intoxicating, making her almost giddy with joy. She sneezed and then wiped her itchy nose only to see her fingers covered in crimson. And the bleeding continued. Soon it was flowing into her mouth or down her chin.

Merna little understood the effects of radiation poisoning, but knew enough about it to realize there was greater evil at work here than just that. There were other agents of death filling this tunnel, undoubtedly the reason this access tunnel had been sealed. What kind of deviltry went on in this place? The answer flashed into Merna's mind making her blurt out, "The bastards are making chemical weapons in here!"

Sure enough...and that is what Major ChinSuu believed when he had seen the new tunnel. Legion was using this place to make chemical agents, keeping up the appearance of a reactor to cover over the main purpose it was being used for. He was certain the enemy would do everything in its power to destroy the evidence if they feared it falling into the wrong hands. It would be obvious to them that the opposing army was close and in force, and that a general assault may be only moments away. The enemy certainly was in process or soon would be of destroying the reactor and all other evidence of chemical manufacture, spreading death everywhere when doing so.

Peering through the tiny slit she had made, Merna searched the outer surroundings. The room was spacious, filled with rows of storage shelves. There was a scattering of crates, machinery parts, coils of rope and cable, and stacks of metal drums. Packed among all these things were newly installed bunks, making the room into a makeshift barracks. Although there was no one in sight, the sergeant could see moving shadows on the walls and hear laughter.

After watching awhile, she concluded that most of the soldiers were away and that only a few remained behind in the room. The hatch groaned as Merna pushed against the corroded hinges. The laughter stopped instantly. Had they heard the noise? With pounding heart she waited, thinking for sure her nervous breathing alone would give her away. Soon the laughter and raucous merrymaking began anew.

Merna slumped back, her body aching from growing anxiety. What was she to do? If she pushed open the hatch, the enemy would certainly hear and would be on her before she could escape the tunnel. This was becoming too much. Merna was beginning to cough up bloody spittle and her nosebleed was getting worse. The woman lowered her head and began to quietly cry. What she needed was a distraction. But how? The distraction must be near the far end of the room. She couldn't even open the hatch enough to toss out a smoke grenade if she had one.

A sudden stabbing cramp racked Merna's right hand. Instinctively stretching her fingers to ease the cramp, she opened her fingers, releasing the sword. To her shock, it remained floating where it had been let go, a blue-white flame silently dancing along its edge. Could it be? Could she use it to create some sort of distraction? The sergeant began her little ditty anew.

In short order, the sword was responding to the musical notes Merna sang. Its flame flickered to the beat while the blade itself bobbed up and down in rhythm to the tune. Ever so slowly it drifted upward until in deftly floated only inches from the woman's face. As if having a mind of its own, the weapon acted as if awaiting instructions.

Closing her eyes, Merna reached out to her sword with her mind, speaking to it with her thoughts as if it were a living being. Much to her surprise, it responded in a similar fashion, like a favored pet receiving its master's attention. A gentle humming started coming from the blade. Merna believed it sounded more like a purring. As the woman explained her need, the sword began acting agitated, fluttering in excitement. Suddenly, in a rush, it slipped through the narrow opening in the hatch and disappeared from Merna's sight.

' _Clang!' 'Crash!' 'Tap, tap, tap_ ...' A noisy disturbance sounded from the far end of the room.

The laughter stopped and the loud and lively conversation changed to one of curiosity and concern. When the strange flashes of light and animal-like squeals began, the soldiers decided to investigate and were drawn into a wild and somewhat amusing game of chase and tag, a dozen or so people attempting to catch the ever elusive creature that was rummaging the barracks, always just beyond sight.

Ever so cautiously, Merna pushed open the hatch, its resistive groaning going unnoticed by others in the chamber. In seconds the sergeant was out, seeking a rope or line to assist her comrades, fearing there was not enough time if they each needed to crawl up the tunnel as she had done. Finding an old tether line, she hurried back to the escape tunnel and, motioning the others below to clear away, tossed the unsecured end of the line down to them.

It took five minutes for everyone to clear the hatch, Major ChinSuu being the last to escape. By that time, Merna was down on her knees coughing up bloody mucus as she struggled to breathe. The major wasted little time getting to her side. He sat, pulling Merna near until he cradled her in his lap, taking some pills from his pocket.

"Here. Put these under your tongue. Swallow them when you're able." Major ChinSuu apologized, "I'm sorry, Sergeant. In the confusion of the moment, no one remembered to give you and your charges the iodine-antitoxin capsules we had taken. The others received theirs while waiting below. They should be fine. I...I hope we've done the same for you." He peered her in the eyes. "You're my charge too, you know. My soul in place of yours is also true for me."

Merna groggily nodded. She coughed a few more times before struggling to stand. "Later..." the woman mumbled, slurring her words. "I'll die when my duty's finished. I'm no quitter."

Glancing around to see that the group hadn't been discovered yet, Merna reached out to Corporal Atisha for her automatic rifle, wobbling as she did. Then, holding her hand to her temple, she closed her eyes.

"That way!" Merna muttered, still slurring her speech. "It's the only way out," then turning to the major added, "We're two floors down from the main control room. I feel the dragon's hot breath on me. They must be getting ready to blow the furnace."

"We can't afford a meltdown," Major ChinSuu anxiously replied. "Our lead forces will catch the brunt of it, killing and harming many." He took Merna's arm, helping her hurry away.

The remainder of events blurred in Merna's mind. She recalled the firefight after Major ChinSuu's people used explosives to destroy the secondary defense doors and the running battle from there to the main control room. In the back of her mind, she could recall herself and the corporal dragging one of their wounded platoon companions through the wrecked door leading into the control room and the heated contest the enemy made to retake it. But those details were sketchy at best.

Merna was unconscious by the time the Marines forced a rescue. Two from her platoon and one from Major ChinSuu's group were wounded, his ward later dying. Yet, by military standards, the raid was a complete success.

The major had succeeded in overriding the meltdown, saving the reactor and several lives from the Sixteenth Regiment and Merna's own Stocie's Company from the 8th Volunteer Regiment. A search revealed what Sergeant Merna and Major ChinSuu suspected. A large part of the reactor facilities had been converted to the manufacture of chemical and nerve agents to be used in combat, something that Legion had long denied he was doing.

It was three in the morning, the second day after their taking the reactor that Merna awoke to the drone and quiet clatter of machines. She opened her eyes to see Corporal Atisha lying next to her on a wide bunk, staring into her face.

Atisha smiled. "I have prayed you would survive this ordeal. I see that the Cherubs must care deeply for you."

"What? Why?" Merna sputtered, wincing, it hurting too much to talk.

Reaching over to tenderly caress Merna's arm, Atisha explained, "You took a very powerful dose of that stuff the other day. Would'a killed most people. That's why we're in this detoxinrad cleansing chamber. You burned your lungs and blistered the skin on you back and buttocks climbing up that tunnel the way you did. You should have been dead by the time we reached you. But no, you were still very much alive, much to my greatest joy!" Tears welled up in Atisha's eyes. "I thought I lost you. I've lost so many, you know. You have become so dear to me. My heart hurts just thinking about it." She leaned close, kissing Merna on the lips.

Merna smiled, closing her eyes to rest. She reached out, taking Atisha's hand. Things felt right, good you might say. Not since the death of her husband so long ago had things felt so...so comfortable. As she drifted off back to sleep, she whispered, "I love you, too."

* * *

A soft rap came on the council chamber's door. Mihai did not turn around to see who it was, remaining busy at the table. "Come in," she called in a clear, cold voice.

Mihai's response troubled Anna who had always been greeted by the king with great warmth. She cautiously entered the room. The woman had attired herself in hopes of having a more intimate encounter than Mihai may have originally intended. Yes, she had made herself very alluring, painted lips, toes and fingernails, hair done up with golden combs, her long, dark tresses falling like a silken shawl across her shoulders and down her back, intoxicating perfume, and a gown of spider-lace.

With the haunting voice of an impassioned lover longing for a romantic interlude, she cooed while crossing the floor to stand behind Mihai, "My king has finally found a moment for her most devoted slave girl." She began to gently rub Mihai's shoulders, sensuously pressing her bosom against the back of Mihai's head. "I have missed my lover so much these many days she has been parted from me. I..."

A cold chill ran down Mihai's back. Anna's touch was foul, as though from some creeping, vile creature that lurks in bottom of septic waters. And Anna's breasts, once so arousing, made Mihai's stomach churn with unease as they caressed her. Without turning around, Mihai addressed Anna calmly and politely, but her words' icy chill could not be disguised. "Please, Governess Anna, please sit, for there is business to conduct."

Anna jerked upright, her hands releasing their touch. Mihai had not addressed Anna with her official title in many millennia. She stuttered, "M... my... my Lord! I... I..."

Mihai turned in her chair, twisting her neck until Anna saw her steely glare and reddened eyes. "Please sit down. I called you here for special business. Shall you honor your king by obeying this simple command?"

In shocked disbelief, Anna answered, "Yes...of course, my Lord and King, whatever is your wish." She backed away and made for one of the chairs at the table.

Mihai appeared crestfallen, swollen eyes staring down into nowhere while her tired hands rested on the table with fingers spread. After an uncomfortable pause, she began, "News comes to me that many foul deeds have been done to some of those who are very dear to us. Not many days ago, enemy commandos attacked a railstage out of Oros, killing over two hundred aboard, all except one."

She peered deeply into Anna's face, searching for something...sadness, shock, remorse...anything. Disappointed at seeing no signs of feeling, she added, "AdayaDarla was captured and taken hostage."

Anna sat, emotionless, refusing to make eye contact with Mihai. She continued looking down at the table, slowly nodding but saying nothing.

Mihai asked, "You did know about this, didn't you?"

Anna finally peered into Mihai's face, calmly answering, "My Lord, it has been the talk of the city. One can go nowhere and not be told about the destruction of so many innocent lives and the loss of our sister."

Mihai began to make retort then paused, thinking better of it. She reached for her writing lead, tapping it on the table while she pondered what to say. "Governess, you have in your charge a Lieutenant IlanitAnthos. As I recall, she's been quite close to you for many years... sort of a bodyguard, you might say, or just a close companion. Anyway, she was that to you until she was offered up to AdayaDarla as an adjutant, isn't that so?"

Curious or suspicious, Anna agreed. "She is an able officer. I wished for our new major to have a qualified helper which I know Leftenant Ilanit to be."

"Do you know of her whereabouts, or have you received any messages from her since the railstage disaster?"

Anna shook her head. "Ilanit has not been in communication with me for several weeks, not since the celebration of the returning of Shikkeron, and that was only in passing."

Mihai looked across the chamber. "Several weeks?"

Anna acknowledged it to be so, concern growing on her face.

Mihai changed subjects. "News has it that Leftenant Crilen was found murdered in his officer's cabin at the Oros Navy Base the day of the railstage attack. They say he died of the same kind of leprosy that killed the first officer of Shikkeron several months ago. It appears both men were victims, murdered by the same person."

Anna's eyebrows raised as her ears perked up, not so much in surprise, as Mihai hoped it would be, but more like someone receiving expected news. She leaned forward, knuckles whitening, curious, "Is it really so?! Most interesting... It's really so?"

Mihai's disappointment grew. Even she could sense the phony concern in Anna's voice. And how could this great counselor have failed to connect the dots, realizing the implication of her officer's...Ilanit's involvement in this murder? Mihai maintained her self-control, but an icy chill filled her voice. "Is it really so that Leftenant Crilen is dead or that the murderer did a messy job of it?"

"My Lord," Anna posed, bewildered and innocent, "you speak in puzzling ways I don't understand."

Mihai stood, pulling a dagger from her blouse. "This?! You don't understand this?!" She tossed the finely bejeweled dagger onto the table.

Anna's eyes bulged in surprise at seeing Captain Joleck's blade. Just as quickly, she regained her composure, answering in a defensive tone of one who has been falsely charged with a crime. "My Lord... please, my Lord. It is not mine! It is not my blade at all."

"Your eyes speak another story, Counselor!" Mihai angrily scolded. "I could see in them that this uniquely beautiful weapon has been observed before."

Anna's stare was icy as she continued to smile, denying it so.

Mihai grabbed up the blade and, slamming it on the table in front of Anna, shouted, "Your handprints were on it!" She got into Anna's face. "It had been wrapped in your special parchment which was found in AdayaDarla's quarters. On that parchment was printed a note telling her to take the railstage to Palace City to meet with Captain Joleck! Your parchment!"

Anna cried out in her defense, "Not me! Not me! Leftenant Ilanit brought it to me! I swear! I swear! I gave her some parchment to wrap it in, she saying it was a gift for a companion."

Mihai slammed her fist on the table. "How could that be so when you say it was not since the return of Shikkeron that you have seen your leftenant?! Captain Joleck did not receive that blade as a gift from Captain Asarel until after her taking command of Haisely. It has only been two weeks since Haisely departed this base on a clandestine mission, one, may I add, that led to the murder of its entire crew!"

Anna was at a loss for words, not because she had no reply, but that Mihai had surprised her with information she was not aware of. Quickly regaining the moment, she attempted to assuage Mihai. "My Lord! My Lord, I confess! I confess! The leftenant came to me but five nights ago on the eve of the attack of the railstage. She showed me the dagger, saying it was a gift for an intimate companion." She paused.

Mihai searched Anna's face. She could tell that part of her account was true, but which part? Anna did act surprised about something she had said, but what?

Anna continued, "This Joleck person...little do I know of her, other than she was aboard DusmeAstron when Shikkeron reappeared from the abyss of death, and I know nothing about that blade belonging to her or any ship called 'Haisely'...or any death of any crew. As for Leftenant Ilanit, she begged me not to speak a word of her visit, saying it most important that no one know of her whereabouts. I took her at her word, she being a very trustworthy officer."

Mihai slowly shook her head, disappointed. Anna was telling the truth, at least about the dagger. But Ilanit? Her question was sharp and accusative. "So...is it such a little thing to lie to your king about seeing your leftenant? What other lies do you carry in your bosom that you believe are of such little importance to share with one you hold with such deep respect?"

Anna frowned, squinting. So this was it! Mihai had no witnesses to directly attach Anna to the aforementioned crimes and needed a confession. Well, a confession would be no easy thing to come by, not from her! She smiled while sneering, "Shall a king serve as judge over a personal offense?! I demand to be brought before those of my peers so that our king may present proof before all men of what she accuses me of in private!"

Mihai could not believe her ears. She dumbly stared at this defiant creature who once so lovingly whispered sweet endearments to her. Slowly, raging anger began to grow in Mihai's heart until the woman trembled from it. With every fiber of her willpower, the woman fought back a desire to pick up Joleck's dagger and tear apart this vile creature confronting her. Standing upright, hands clasped behind her back, she began to quietly pace. At length she turned, changing the subject back to Anna's officer. "It is believed Leftenant Ilanit murdered Crilen. Witnesses say they saw her leaving his apartment complex by motor coach, and genetic traces of her presence were found on his bed."

Anna quipped, "And what concern should this be to me? I am not the taskmaster of my sister. She has free will."

Mihai calmly added, "Leftenant Ilanit is dead. Her body is being returned to Palace City for autopsy. It is believed that Lieutenant Crilen had dubious intentions planned for your officer, only he had not expected her to have the same for him. Our search should confirm that Ilanit suffered a similar fate to the one she meted out to her fellow companion and lover."

Anna was visibly shaken. The death of Ilanit was a surprise...and deeply troubling for several reasons.

Mihai pulled some papers from her blouse. Leaning forward, she tossed them on the table in front of Anna. "Your officer carried these on her person. Is this not, also, your special parchment, indeed, a gift from me upon your returning from visiting Terey and others injured on Chisamore?"

Trepidation flashed in Anna's eyes, only to be replaced by smug confidence. She picked up the papers, examining them first, and then waved them accusatively, chiding Mihai, "So it is my parchment, but the writing is that of Ilanit. Do not expect these scraps of evidence to be the tools you can use to defame me. Words...yes, words my officer wrote as though in my name. But there is no proof they are mine...no proof!"

Stepping back, Mihai turned away facing the wall, softly asking, "Would the king's counselor desire to know where the body of her officer was discovered?"

Anna shrugged. "I see little importance in it, but if it suits the king's fancy to tell..."

"It does," Mihai replied coldly as she turned to face Anna again. "Your officer was discovered on board the munitions packet, Paz, that had been hijacked from the Oros Navy Yards shortly after she had been seen leaving Lieutenant Crilen's apartment. It was the same ship used in transferring the kidnapped AdayaDarla from EdenEsonbar to Haisely. The ship's six crew members had all been murdered, four execution-style, the others shot in the back of the head by the same weapon Leftenant Ilanit carried."

Anna shrugged again, this time in an overly casual way, asking, "So what does this have to do with me? The leftenant a traitor? She wouldn't be the first one, would she?" The woman stood, still shaking the papers at Mihai, who was now facing her. "CastilReanno, TubinLasofarsol, BoniettaSolbyannean, just to name a few of your closest and dearest companions, were found to be traitors and murderers. Did we imply you a villain because of them?" Angrily Anna thumped her chest. "Then why should you imply my guilt when a mindless cockatoo should surrender to her passions for real love and seek escape from this retched house?!"

Mihai was taken aback, but for only a second. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, curious, "So, Governess Anna, what did your _little cockatoo_ mindlessly forget to do, keep her mistress' fingers clean? As I said earlier, your little cockatoo was messy. Whatever happened to her loyalty for you so that she would leave a trail leading back to your door, while she...she sought out the man you both desire?"

She snapped her fingers. "I think I know. You got tired of paying for her loyalty, didn't you? Disgusting creature, wasn't she? An irritating little bed warmer, I imagine. After all, the filthy little thing was only a junior officer, didn't have much between her ears to share...no secrets, I mean. And I bet she wasn't much of a lover either, clumsy you know, always wanting more from you, but she unable to reciprocate. I imagine you felt so underpaid for your services, having to bed the dishrag just to keep your fingers clean."

Anna clenched her fists, trembling in growing rage. "She is not the only filth I've had to endure! You..."

Mihai snapped back, "I've what...been a _poor fuck?!_ Someone you've had to endure, pollute your flesh with, so as to find out secrets to send to the man you wish to bed?"

Casting the parchments on the floor, Anna angrily ranted, "You have put words in my mouth! A falsehood you preach! When the court hears about this, how will you be able to keep your kingship? You...you usurper of royalty! You are the reason this world has fallen into darkness! I should have let Chrusion finish what he started that day long ago. He knew what your really are...the polluted seed, evil and wicked. He could see our future should you continue to live. And it has come about just as he warned me it would."

Shaking her head, Anna cried out, "But no! I refused to believe the obvious. I waited outside the wall and brought about a rescue of your flesh. And for what?" She pointed a finger, accusing, "The demon monster who has robbed us of our innocence stands before me! You have condemned us all to this hell in which we now live. You are the Devil! The true abomination of all living things! The world burns because of you. Damnation you have sent upon us all!"

"That is enough! Cease your vile speech, or I shall rip that tongue from your mouth!" Treston stepped from the shadows, his face crimson.

Mihai raised her hand for Treston to be silent as Anna turned to see the intruder, struck dumb at hearing his threats.

His anger raging, he refused, pointing, "No, my Lord! Too long have I watched the wicked revel in such delightful lies! If she does not hold her tongue, I will!"

Mihai forbid it. "I will not tolerate that, Lord Therapon. I am still king in this world. Your glory is yet for another day." She eyed Anna. "Governess Anna is finished with her tirade for the moment, isn't she, Lord Paul?"

Paul stepped from the shadows behind Treston. Placing a hand on Treston's shoulder, he calmly answered, "I do believe the governess has no more she wishes to say." He smiled at Anna, asking, "Isn't that so, my Lady?"

Terror filled Anna's face, a terror she could not suppress as she began to tremble in fear. The others remained quiet, waiting on Anna for reply. None came.

Mihai finally broke the silence. "Governess Anna, this is a place of sanctuary as long as one acts civil. You fear no harm from us as long as you remember that. Now back to the business of the day. Here..." Mihai pointed to her own chair, "sit down at the head of the table. Your heart has long yearned for it. Now it is yours."

Anna did not move. She stood, shaking her head, her fear and terror only growing.

Glowering, Mihai demanded, "Sit down, Governess, or must I have Lord Paul assist you?!"

Bowing her head as she began to move, Anna whimpered, "My King..." and hurried to her assigned seat.

The three others took station along each side of the council table, Paul sitting next to Mihai who was on Anna's right.

Mihai leaned forward, resting on her elbows while clasping her hands. "So tell us, please, Governess Anna...and this time I expect to hear everything...tell us all you know about the role your officer played in the kidnapping of AdayaDarla."

Anna sat back, shaking her head. "Your Lord Paul may well be able to read my mind, even destroy it as he has threatened to do, but his testimony will not stand up in a court of law. I have only done what is good for the cause. I am innocent of the accusations you have leveled at me."

" _Innocent?!"_ A gruff, guttural voice cast itself upon Anna's ears as Darla stepped from the shadows, closely followed by Sirion and Ishtar, as she placed a hand on her sword. "Innocent?! Before you stands the avenger of blood for Joleck, my companion and lover. I see it much differently. Please, my Lady Governess, tell me all about your leftenant and her passionate attempts to probe my mind. And tell me please, also, why your face was always in her dreams."

Anna's hand flew to her chest at the shock of seeing Darla and the others. Astonished and surprised, she stuttered, "I... I..."

Sirion stepped past Darla, baring her teeth, seething with rage. "And how does my murderer attempt to explain this?!" At that, Sirion tossed Ishtar's ear-pin onto the table. "You gifted me also with a piece just like this. What was your intent, for me to be dissected by Asotos so that he might extract my demons within?! How many others of my sisters have you sent to that shit-worm through such treachery?!"

Speechless, Anna sat there clutching her breast, shaking her head in abject terror.

Mihai raised her hand for silence, but Darla would not comply...not yet. She pounded her chest with her right fist. " _I am Queen Adaya, mistress to Phulakee the Cherub, Queen of the Darkness and of the Blood! I am become the Therioskotia, god of the darkness that is born in the hearts of wicked men. I rule the lands beyond the mind and soul, a land that our king cannot claim rulership over. Your safety here is granted only because of my love and respect for that woman_."

She winced from the self-inflicted pain the pounding had given her earlier injury. After a pause to take a breath, Darla swore an oath against Anna. "Never shall you again walk this world a free woman. For as I live, I will hunt you down and bring to a finish the murderer of the one person I have really learned to love. I will risk suffering the court's displeasure for such glory."

"Please, Adaya Darla, please." Mihai motioned Darla to sit. "You are still an officer in service to the king. For that reason, please, respect the request of the king in this matter. Allow her, please, the duty of deciding the fate of this person."

Darla frowned, but obediently sat down at the council table. Sirion sat to her left, and Ishtar to the left of her, beside Treston. When they were seated, Darla spoke, "For the sake of my Lord and King, I shall obey her words. But let this creature know, I preserve its soul only out of my love for you, someone who has always loved me with deepest affection."

Mihai bowed her head graciously. "Thank you, Commodore. Justice will be served, that I promise." She looked at Anna. "But in what way remains to be seen..." Then turning to the others, Mihai requested that each one tell his or her own account of matters regarding Anna and her dealings.

When all the testimony was exhausted, Mihai turned to Anna, asking if there was anything she wished to offer in her defense.

Anna, with clasped hands and lowered head, nodded, her tone quiet but positive. "I do not deny many of the things you have accused me of, but I am no murderer. I have not desired the injury or death of any soul. Just as you, I wish for peace and a world restored as it used to be. If my actions have led to someone's misfortune, I take responsibility for the overzealous conduct of any of my people."

She lifted her eyes, gazing around at the others, shaking her head. "You do not understand things at all. Chrusion is not the evil man that others would have us believe. He is loving and caring, seeking only the best for everyone, while preserving what we are all most fond of. He is a victim of a sad series of circumstances that have been heaped upon him. All he wishes is to return peace to a world needlessly torn asunder by jealousy and misinformation."

She opened her hand toward Darla. "You, my child, have never experienced the healing love Chrusion can deliver upon the soul of a woman. He could see the sadness in your heart that night at the prisoner exchange. His only desire was to bring you to his arms in order for him to deliver a cure upon you. The sad series of unfortunate events that followed were not of his making, but that of brutish and dimwitted lieutenants, poor fellows, as he explained at the prisoner exchange, who had been abandoned to despair and cast aside by their own mother, like unwanted abortions."

Looking at Sirion, Anna smiled, confessing, "I have always loved you, you being one of my favorites of the little children. It was not with malice that I tricked you. Chrusion wished only to make up to you for all the wicked things others had done to such an innocent as yourself. He really is so considerate of others. When he was informed that your torture came at the hands of Godenn and his henchmen, he was alarmed and cut to the heart. Seeking your forgiveness was his only desire. You were not to be made his prisoner but his guest in a loving house."

"What of the murder of Captain Jusenah?!" Sirion snarled. "Did your munificent lord wish her well also?"

Anna argued, "I knew nothing of such a terrible act done until this instant. Not from my lips did such a command come. Only the messages from the planet's surface did I have part in."

Sirion's face reddened. "I do not believe you!"

"It is as I say, little one," Anna replied. "It is truth I am speaking here."

Mihai requested that Anna be allowed to continue. Sirion reined in her emotions and slowly sat back in her chair.

Anna then addressed Ishtar. "My dear, how can there ever be real peace between your people and mine unless we can find common ground? Chrusion did not seek your harm, only an open dialog between you and him, he feeling that someone younger and so wise for her age could reach across worlds to bring all people together. War, my dear...it is this war that killed PalaHar and deformed you, not Chrusion. And it is a war made not by this caring man, but by those interested in furthering their own positions."

Ishtar said nothing, she being confused and frustrated. Anna's tongue was sweet like honey. She could twist any thought and make it taste delicious to a wanting heart. Ishtar closed her eyes, thinking. Anna's speech was intoxicating, but the language foul like bitter poison hidden in sugar cakes. The child began to cry. Too much was this moment, too great the betrayal for a girl with a troubled heart. She excused herself, departing the room to find tearful solace in some secluded corner.

At length, Anna continued. Only in a land ruled over by an outstandingly patient and caring king would such a woman be allowed this openness of speech and confession. She went on about the evils of the Children's Empire, how loving Chrusion was and many, many wordy examples to prove it. For nearly two hours she carried on in this manner.

(Author's note _: This episode, though rarely more than a tiny footnote in many history books is, to the author, profound, for it reveals to all the defining character of the one person upon which history turns. One need only examine the details of events found in the Hall of Records to discover why Lowenah, in all her wisdom, chose this woman, Mihai, to take up the scepter of power and glory in the darkest hours of man's existence. This majestic lady displayed to the entire universe her love for justice, respect for soul, and understanding of heart in that hour, when she tolerated the rantings of a mad woman._ )

In time, Anna exhausted herself of plaudits for her exalted lover and king. She smiled down at her hands and sighed relief. "Do as you will with me, for I have only done what has been for the best of my... our people. Soon our true lord will come and free us from all the evil that covers this wretched land."

Mihai sat there, drained of any energy. She was also distraught and... and what was it? What did she feel? Dirty! That was it. Mihai felt dirty, filthy on the inside, deep within her soul. Over these many long, weary years she had sought solace in the arms of this...this defiling thing. She, the one violated by the monster, Asotos, had welcomed his most willing and loathsome servant to slither inside her mind and flesh, surrendering up to it the very fabric of her soul, and for what? Had it only been for the satisfying of the flesh? And had she only just recently stopped seeking out such wantoness and that only because of her wanton desire that had grown for Paul?

Oh, how sour is the soul when it finds out that it has been paying to be used as a whore! Staring at the table, Mihai's heart raced first with the desire to rip from her flesh her own womanly parts, to cast them into the blazing fire. Oh, how much she wished to be void of all feeling of sensuality. She cursed her sexual awakening, thinking of all the evil it eventually released upon an innocent and carefree world. The woman struggled with her desires, fighting down her hands that were wanting to tear away her breasts as she sat peering into the opaque nothingness of the teakwood table.

Finally, on unsteady legs and shaking knees, Mihai stood. Controlling an urge to scream, she asked Anna, "How many of my sisters have you consigned to this man, stealing them away to his private lair?"

Anna looked up and into Mihai's eyes, asking, "Do you mean how many of my sisters have I freed from this horrid house to be delivered to the love of such a deserving man?"

The urge to gouge out the eyes of this...this mad woman was almost overpowering for Mihai. As tiny tremors shook her body, she turned away, fighting to keep from screaming. Several moments passed, and then, just above a whisper, Mihai answered, "Yes, that is my question. How many?"

"There have been but twelve," Anna calmly answered, smiling while extending her arm in a gentle sweep toward Darla and Sirion, "other than for these darling children." She frowned. "Poor dears... Now they will never come to know what real love can be."

Mihai was becoming sick to her stomach, swallowing hard to keep down bile threatening to expunge itself from her system. She quietly asked, "Who? Will you tell us who?"

"Certainly!" Anna answered with a toothy smile. "They will tell you most assuredly that I have done them a wonderful service. There is SonaFeuatee, daughter of the mist, weaver of silk and dreamer of future visions. I saw her great sadness in the dark days following my lord's banishment. When the hour was right, I delivered her up to him so he could refresh her heart.

"Sarah and Tarsha Gemini, the sister moons of Chrusion, named after the twin moons over the planet Chrusion, exulted in the hunt and fleet of foot. Fast and sure were their assassin arrows, never missing their mark. They so pined for Chrusion's love that, when I disclosed their desires to my lover, he requested their company in order to soothe and comfort them.

"And there was the beautiful RaphaelNohaseiChee. I saw the grief she suffered so after binding Azazel and pitching him to his death from the Tower of Drissamore. I knew that her heart could not mend until she had confessed her troubles to Samyaza, Azazel's closest companion, explaining it was all a misunderstanding caused by Mother. Well, Samyaza entreated me to send her to him so he could console her bitter feelings.

"UrielZoeFitinna, sister of the wind I gave over to my lover because he longed so for this woman's touch, I feeling she could deliver him a cure from his mistaken lusting over his fellows, something he assured me would certainly help."

Anna tapped her chin in thought. "Then there were GynnaSonnahFae, XynoxennaTumbedia, MichaelChosbyTa, and...let me think...oh yes, HannahPfienah." She made no comment as to why they had been delivered over to Asotos, then snapped her fingers. "And then there is our dear sister, IlaniyaTuoSouFit. You heard of her unswerving loyalty to Chrusion announced at the prisoner exchange. She stands as public proof that my lover is still a desirable man for the women in this...this tormented land. Even the one Mother called 'loyal star' could not tolerate the indignities of this world compared to my lord's love."

Sirion and Darla both broke down and wept profusely, Sirion excusing herself from the chambers. Mihai was also unable to hold back her tears. She dared not cry out or even allow Anna see her. For many long moments she stared at the distant wall shaking in rage and tumult, awaiting the rivers of anguish to dry up.

Eventually, fighting down an overwhelming urge to tear this disgusting filth apart and feed its flesh to the birds of the field, Mihai slowly turned to face Anna. In a subdued voice that cloaked her anger, Mihai quietly made reply. "The names of my sisters are carved on the granite walls in the Silent Tombs, all save Ilaniya who now lives in the shadows of the hell of Asotos' company."

Anna frowned, denying it to be so. "No! No, you're so wrong! They live in blissful peace, in the arms of my noble lover."

"No they do not," Mihai's voice was rising, "for I have listened to them calling to me from the Field of the Minds when I passed through there in visions and dreams!"

"Then you are mistaken!" Anna chided, grinning. "Foolish dreamer is what you are, dreams tinted with gall Mother has given you to hide the truth. They live! In the ecstasy of my brother's love, they live!"

Raising her arms with clenched fists in angry despair, Mihai stepped forward, leaning in close, screaming in Anna's face, " _They are dead! Murdered by your scum-filth lover! Dead!"_ She then retreated to a distant corner of the chamber and wept.

Anna just smiled, slowly shaking her head in disagreement.

Treston stared dumbly at Anna, unable to believe that such madness could overtake a child of Lowenah. Paul sat quietly, hands folded, nodding as though having anticipated this turn of events. And Darla? The woman was leaned forward with head cradled on her folded arms that rested on the table, fighting down incessant bile. Her mind raced with events from former days, making her sicker still.

Had she not been the very tool used by Anna so many months ago when she delivered into Ilaniya's hands before leaving on the Zephath a gift from Anna, the woman claiming it being from Mother? And had she not assisted Ilaniya in placing the golden pendants in her flesh? Too late! Darla retched, puking into her shed tears, as though purging her soul of its own wickedness. Attempting to leave, she fell to her knees, her rubbery legs refusing to carry the girl's weight.

Paul and Treston hurried to Darla's side, busying themselves assisting their very sick sister. They paid no heed to Anna who quietly sat musing while playing with her fingers. Upon hearing the commotion, Mihai turned and, observing events, motioned toward shadows hidden behind some curtains.

A hand pulled the curtain away while a voice called out, "My Lord." Mihai's counselors OfhieSanternano, DarlaRosa, DornanceZaboren and KyseninaGerzion entered along with Alynnou and Clarion, Treston's companions.

Alynnou and Clarion were strangely attired, wearing blood-red, floor-length robes that covered all but their naked feet, their faces hidden in the shadows of oversized hoods. Upon the cape-like arms of each robe were gold runes in the scripted language of the Cherubs that when translated, read, 'Daughters of the House of Elinor, Keepers of VanGoddawin's Flame'.

(Author's note: _As was often the case concerning the Ancients, several of the men who had journeyed into the forbidden mountains of the Jahouk were gifted with names given them by mentoring Cherubs. VanGoddawin was a Cherub, gifting his name upon a certain ContiBinnienaStolkaftie, who fell in mortal combat while brandishing the sword 'Ysuah' during The Battle of the Hatorian Plain in Chesse's Charge of the Golden Knights. The name on Alynnou and Clarion's robes referred not to Conti but to VanGoddawin, the Cherub._ )

Anna looked up, staring aghast, her face filling with dismay. Although not able to read the runes, she recognized the crest emblazoned upon the right breast of each robe, a blazing fire contained within an ever-watchful eye. She also knew there would be an invisible tattoo of the crest on the right breast of any person of that house. Wasn't that how she identified them for her lover, so that he could search them out and make entreaty to them for peace?

Glaring in anger, Anna cursed, "Witches of falsehood! Be damned, for the wicked house of Elinor is no more. Imposters!"

" _Imposter?!"_ Alynnou challenged with a question, throwing her hood back and pulling her robe open.

Terror flashing in her eyes, Anna gasped.

Glancing first at Clarion, who had also opened her robe, Alynnou angrily replied, accusing, "It is the night of the new moon! See my tattoo? It lives always on the darkest of nights. Only by the will of the Cherubs can such a scar be cut into the flesh, and only by a stealer of trusted dreams can the secret become known to others, for you are no daughter of that house!"

Shaking her head in denial, Anna cried out, "It cannot be! Cannot be! That house is dead...all gone and dead! The prophecy regarding it has failed...has failed! Imposters! They will not burn the house of my lover!"

Clarion began shaking in rage as she shouted, "Fool! Murderer of all that was good! The prophecy you stole from one of my innocent sisters while she searched to provide succor to one of Mother's oldest daughters was not what you understood it to be. It was one of healing, a promise for a cure of hearts, for should darkness cover the land, the Cherubs knew how damaged the children's hearts would become. Daughters of this House were given power to set ablaze the memory of that evil hour, healing those hearts and restoring innocence to Mother's children."

She buried her face in her hands and started to weep, asking, "Did you consign the souls of my sisters to death over such stupid reasoning?" Through her tears she cried out, "We were a house of peace, healers of hearts, giving gifts of pleasant dreams. Never did we harm a living soul, never even lifting a hand up in war until Legion attacked Memphis, and then only in self-defense!"

Mihai's ears burned at hearing this hidden knowledge revealed, becoming incensed. The House of Elinor had been secret even to her. Taking offence, she blurted out, "Treachery and violence! Witches and demons! Who is there among the worlds of men that I can any longer trust and believe?! I do not rule this kingdom but for the Lords of forgotten children's tales, and they only rise from the mist when seeking to take my sanity!"
While still assisting Darla, Paul called out to Mihai with caution and counsel. "My Lord, insight and wisdom were what your mother offered you. You were given the Council of Eighty, souls to provide secure counsel and you refused to listen to your mother. How can the secrets of ageless wisdom be bestowed upon someone who has not a willing heart?"

Paul's words were bitter and sharp, as though stinging with the venom of a scorpion. But they had come from a man she loved so dearly. From deep within her breasts, anger began rising to attack Paul for the pain he was causing. Clenching her fists in blinding rage, Mihai took a step toward her attacker. She started hearing a snigger in the back of her head as a dark shadow swept across her eyes. The monster that had long been sleeping within her was awake, her unrighteous anger having roused it from the Cherub's sleep. 'Kill it! Kill it!' the voice within commanded.

Without warning, a hand shot out, gripping Mihai's arm, sending a searing blast of heated energy through her body that nearly knocked her over. Instantly there came a hideous screeching of vile curses that faded off into the deep recesses of her mind.

Alynnou's robe again covered the woman, her hand clenching Mihai's arm, still glowing with red-hot flame, the only flesh to be seen. "My Lord..." Alynnou peered into Mihai's tormented eyes, pleading, "My Lord, may the peace of VanGoddawin's flame warm your heart and give you wisdom to lead this people. Peace you must search for or your demon will have won the day."

Mihai stared, dumfounded by the fading glory coming out from Alynnou's hood. She searched for answers to so many raging questions, but the anger was easing. Paul's words still stung and would for many days. And she still refused to make reply concerning the Eighty, something that would lead to her greatest sorrow. But she was starting to make more sense of things. The brutal confessions of Anna were no longer clouding her reasoning ability.

Putting a hand to her forehead, Mihai requested Alynnou assist her toward the table. She rested her weight on it for some time, refusing to sit. At length she directed that everyone, including Ishtar and Sirion, be gathered to the council chamber. When all was ready, each person was at his or her appointed station. Paul was to Anna's left with Treston to her right.

Glaring at Anna, Mihai began, sucking in a breath, forcing her emotions to do her bidding as she calmly addressed the council. "You have all heard the confession of Governess Anna. How does this court find her, guilty or not guilty?"

Anna was surprised by such boldness but said nothing, waiting for the right moment to make her case...a moment that never came.

Sirion did not wait for the older ones to comment. She drew her dagger, driving it deep into the table then swore an oath. "As ReaDameia will ever haunt the underworlds of men and demons, I swear upon the names of all our fathers that my soul shall never rest until it has seen removed all that is evil from this world...including your lover!"

Anna sat in stunned silence and Mihai was in shock. Treston smiled to himself remembering RosMismar's warning concerning the girl. But what happened next shocked even him. Simultaneously Darla and Ishtar stood, slamming their daggers into the teakwood table surface.

Darla then vented her wrath through curses and prophecy. Waving her hand and pointing toward Ishtar and Sirion, she cried out, "We are Sisters of the Bloodwind, the trinity of good, bad and evil, daughters from the worlds of Heaven, men, and Hell! Prophecy be damned, for our kind do not live by code, honor, or creed! We take what we will, when we wish, and how we want!" She turned toward Sirion and Ishtar. "Open your coats!"

Both women quietly obeyed while Darla did the same. Much to everyone's surprise, including Sirion and Ishtar, upon the right breast of each woman was the fading glow of a Cherub's tattoo, but not that only of the House of Elinor, for the ever-watchful fiery eye sat atop a pyramid inscribed in Cherub runes that read when translated, 'A True Judge Ever Lives'.

Bending forward, Darla glared at Anna, her eyes glowing red with the fires of the underworld. In a guttural growl, she declared, "Seller of souls! Stealer of innocence! As Eve denied her Maker for the sake of an Evil Snake, so shall your heart bring you to its end. Forever you will wander empty lands, never knowing the love you crave!"

Mihai interrupted, distraught, "Please! Please sit. All sit, please!" She dared not offer reprimand, fearing that the Cherubs had orchestrated these events. After gathering her thoughts, she continued on with the judging.

Clarion and Alynnou said not a word, but both drew short-bladed, serpentine-shaped daggers that glowed translucent jade green with crimson-colored ruby quillons and hilts. Each drove her Elinor blade deep into the ancient wood, wisps of smoke drifting into the air as the points made contact with the table's surface.

Treston felt out of place, acting as a judge over such an ancient child of God as he thought of Anna. Yet he did understand the responsibility placed before him this day. Pulling a small ankle knife from its sheath, he stuck its blade point-first into the table, signifying his belief of Anna's guilt. Paul and the others carried no weapons but all shared the same view. Not one person spoke a word in the woman's defense.

The lots were cast. What was Anna to do now? She had threatened Mihai with demanding a public trial, something that would certainly dishearten the people, possibly even divide them. By law, Anna had the right to request such a thing. Mihai had gone to a great deal of effort this night to prevent it, and she was willing to sacrifice a great deal more to see that it did not happen.

Before Anna could demand a public trial, Mihai made her an offer. Swallowing first in disgust then clearing her throat, she addressed Anna. "Governess, should you choose to request a public hearing, these are the same judges you will face that day who have already cast their vote against you this night. Instead of the folly such a trial would produce, doing no one any good, I propose another solution to this current dilemma you and I now face."

She paused, eyeing Anna, who remained silent, waiting upon Mihai's offer. "Governess Anna, out of respect for your long service to the children of this realm, and for your suffering the evils of torture and humiliation at the hands of violent men when you had leave of escape but chose to remain behind to tend the wounded in the First Siege of Memphis, I make you this offer, with a few stipulations."

Anna frowned, squinting suspiciously. "Yes...?"

"Here!" Mihai stood and began to pace. "You will be given free passage to Chrusion's city. There will be no public report made concerning what has been revealed this night, that knowledge remaining privy only to those of us presently in this room. What you wish to do after you arrive and place yourself in your brother's hands is not of our affair. I bind you with no oath or promise."

She turned toward Anna. "You will be free of us at last, able to work your charms on the man you love. No longer will you be forced to live a slave in this contemptuous house."

A smile grew on Anna's face as she considered such a sweet fate, but quickly her frown returned. She asked, "What then are my few stipulations?"

Mihai replied, "They are few, and not so burdensome as one might think. First, you will take only what items are chosen for you by my own hand, or someone I personally appoint. That includes any clothing or personal things.

"Second," Mihai lifted her hand, waving her finger in the air as she spoke, "you will give to us the names of all the agents in your service, or ones you know are agents." She paused, clasping both hands behind her back. "If you so choose, they may accompany you to your destination. I have no desire to bring about their demise, only to have them leave our company."

Anna asked, "And...?"

"And..." Mihai's steely stare bored into Anna's eyes, "should you ever return to within the borders of the Children's Empire, you will be considered an enemy of the state and duly executed upon apprehension. There will be no trial, prison or pardon given."

Tension filled the room as the silence grew. After lengthy consideration, Anna, agreeing to all the stipulations, made some derogatory comments concerning the way she was being treated, considering all the sacrifices made during her long tenure as governess and counselor. Then, with Paul and Treston at her side, she stood and began to leave.

Suddenly, before Treston could react, Darla darted past him, straight for Anna. Grabbing the woman by the hair, she spun her around and drove her opened mouth down hard onto Anna's neck. Anna let out a scream as Darla's teeth punctured a vein.

It only took a second. Darla's head snapped back, her mouth filled with Anna's blood. Clutching Anna's head in her hands, her eyes raging infernos, she spit, splattering Anna's face with blood, cursing, "You tell that lover of yours that the beast he created lives, but not in the form or fashion he ever dreamed. Tell him that it seeks the blood of all those who are his, and that it will not rest until his soul is void of life! The Therioskotia walks this world. Tell him to be afraid!" She violently shook Anna's head. "Tell him to be very afraid!"

Anna's face paled, the terror in her eyes as real as the day Paul had threatened her. "Let me go," she whimpered. "Please! Oh god, please let me go!"

"Go to Hell!" Darla growled, shoving Anna away.

Treston reached out a hand, resting it on Darla's shoulder, softly saying, "My Lady..."

Mihai was nearly beside herself, in shock. She struggled for words, finally choosing to remain silent on the matter, remembering a day not so long ago where she had whimpered such a request herself, but to a much more understanding person. Still, she wondered if Anna was given a vision just now that was far more terrifying than what sights the others had observed.

After regaining her composure, Mihai called for some guards, and Anna was led away, Paul and Treston staying close. Mihai called for an adjournment. While the others shuffled out, Darla worked her way back to her chair and, lowering her head into folded arms, began a weeping that lasted well into the morning. Sirion and Ishtar remained with Darla, consoling the woman while sharing with her in her grief only as women can do with each other.

The sun rose to a gentle breeze and a cloudless sky. The people of Palace City awoke and went about their daily activities as usual, knowing naught of the previous night's events. It was a day little different from the one before, except... except for certain others gathered in darkened chambers, rubbing their hands with joy while already scheming their next mischief.

* * *

The weeks following Anna's trial were depressing for Darla. Even with all her responsibilities preparing the 'HaimaEkdikos' ('Avenger of Blood') Battle Group, she could not shake a gloomy sadness that continued to haunt her. Seeking a cure, or at least a reprieve, Darla absorbed herself in constant duties, often working far into the night and early morning hours, but to little avail. As soon as fatigue forced her to rest, the commodore's mind would race with evil memories of her delivering to Ilaniya Anna's traitorous gifts.

And the work was fatiguing, too. The departure of the Ekdikos Fleet had been scheduled for only eight weeks after its announced commissioning by Mihai. That was before Darla's kidnapping. Mihai offered her new commodore a later departure date, but Darla thought better of it, fearing a delay might play into the enemy's hands should they have knowledge of the purpose for the creation of this battle group. There was plenty of reason for her to be wary.

Building and equipping a new battle group of this magnitude was difficult to keep secret. Gathering over one hundred ships and the needed supplies and crews for a clandestine mission could not go unnoticed. And...and Anna was not the only spy hiding in Mihai's house. At least that was what Darla believed in her heart. So she took measures to not only hide what was being done but to confuse the curious, even telling Mihai little more than necessary.

As commodore, with nearly absolute authority given her by Mihai, the king, Darla went about creating subterfuge and confusion even among her own officers. She divided her command into four taskforces called 'The Four Sisters'...'Susanna', 'Ishtar', 'Sirion', and 'Lady Depais', Lady Depais being her primary taskforce. Darla divided her lieutenants up in groups on a need-to-know basis, telling each group only what was most pertinent to their responsibilities. Whenever possible, supplies, munitions and even personnel were gathered together in small numbers and scattered locations.

Darla did not have the privilege of drawing from only among the Eighty to lead her growing armada, so she took measures to find the most trustworthy commanders and their lieutenants, doing the same with her closest counselors. Each candidate she personally interviewed, requesting that each man or woman have a dream share with her or with Paul, carefully observing the person's reaction.

Darla found a person's response to such a request revealed nearly as much as a dream share would, helping her weed out those who might not prove to have sincere fealty to the cause. Truth be said, she had but few dream shares, and those because of mutual romantic desires. The others, although accepting her request, revealed to Darla the needed knowledge by their reaction. The commodore was searching for honesty and commitment and that she found by observation, desiring not to corrupt the gift of the dream share for selfish reasons, no matter how valuable such a thing might prove to be.

The reader should remember that Darla did not know how much the enemy already knew. It was possible they might already have her battle plans in their possession. Lieutenant Ilanit, for one, was a highly trusted officer and had learned many things... things she never got a chance to reveal, thanks to Lieutenant Crilen. But Darla didn't know that, and she didn't know who else might have betrayed her and the cause. She was, then, looking more for loyalty to and trust in the Empire, not love for and commitment to her.

Darla took few chances, running down the roster of every major officer in the battle group, even troubling Planetee and Sarah with requests for dossiers on all their leading commanders taking part in this operation. Tirelessly, she and her tiny team, headed up by Ardon and assisted at times by her other taskforce commanders, struggled through mountains of information, selecting those most qualified for the job. The new Commodore en Force learned the names, faces and characteristics of all her major officers, committing each one to memory. Already, those close to her could see the wisdom and power of the Cherubs growing in Darla from day to day.

Working from prints, drawings, photos, and other information, Darla labored through the data sheets available for every ship in her battle group, none being too unimportant to miss her scrutiny. Even fighters, shuttles, packets, and scullers were not ignored. If there was a weapons system or mechanical system unfamiliar to her, she took time to study its principles of operation and application. Yes, Darla was going to leave little to chance. If the mission failed, it would not be from lack of preparation but poor officering, the one thing she was most concerned to prevent.

Once the captains and crews were assigned – many ships already had crews – it was placed upon the officer in charge to ready the ship. Permission was granted to obtain needed supplies by whatever means possible, other than by outright theft, although there were times some zealous officers pushed the limit, bringing complaints from the Navy across Darla's desk more than once.

Then, as each ship was readied, it sailed off into the unknown to rendezvous at one of dozens of staging areas along the route to the final gathering somewhere near the Nebulan Cloud Bank. Darla trusted very few with her secrets, fearing that even someone innocent might slip up and reveal the true destination and purpose of the battle group. Still, there were some things she realized would become known so the commodore invented rumors for its existence while hinting at the real reason. Operation Ant Hill came to mean many things to many people, even among her closest officers.

(Author's note: _This was Darla's command and its success or failure rested squarely upon her shoulders. If success depended upon deceit and misinformation, resulting in the occasional insult to an officer, the commodore was willing to risk it. As she later confessed, "It is better to cut off the hand of a friend than to allow the enemy to tear out your friend's throat._ ")

Finding group leaders was extremely difficult, seeing that experienced, battle-tested commanders were already assigned important Navy responsibilities, and a rogue armada like Darla's was not high enough up on the list of importance to garner the elite officers of the Children's Empire. Besides, as Ardon explained, there had never existed such a large assembly of Wildcatters as Darla now commanded. The Navy had provided everything it could afford to. Darla must find her own senior officers. Taking Ardon's advice, she gathered many from the Tarezabarians, and there were several of the Witches of Kordian Hasur, the most trusted children in the Empire, a fortuitous suggestion.

The Tarezabarians were a wonderful and strange people. As Jebbson told Darla, "They are more barbaric than the people originally given that name. They are admirable warriors, having surrendered their souls up to this war. They learn quickly the rules and techniques of modern weapons and fighting. They are fearless, can be totally ruthless, and... and they have a score to settle. TaqaEsam was their deeply beloved leader."

Those appointed to Group Leaders were: Captain JaneaVeaeo, given command of Taskforce Susanna; Captain ZombdyChunfeaDea, given command of Taskforce Ishtar; and Commodore TarzaDondeeUuCusbee, given command of Taskforce Sirion.

Also, nearly two hundred of the newly aligned Wildcatters had volunteered to officer or pilot aboard other ships in the battle group, offering other qualities that far outweighed lack of fighting prowess and experience. And to Darla's great delight, Jehanne Emmainomai Orleans had provided her services for the upcoming campaign.

And Taskforce Lady Depais? Darla gave much consideration to the needed qualifications, wanting an officer she could trust implicitly, not only as commander of the largest number of ships in the Battle Group, but also with her life... her soul. It took her little time to decide. And so it came to be, like it or not, Major ArdonAzubahKenath was promoted to commodore elect, officer in charge, second in command of, as Darla called it, 'the first pirate fleet to sail under the colors of the Children's Empire.'

The Therioskotia and Shikkeron were so closely associated with each other there was no choice other than its becoming Darla's flagship. Darla and Ardon would both walk its bridge, leaving little authority for another captain other than care for the needs of the ship. The commodore remembered how resentful Bedan had been when he was forced to submit his authority to her when they journeyed into the Trizentine before the war. She, remembering how it felt to be overlooked and disregarded, decided to not do the same with Bedan.

Two weeks before the departure date, Darla found herself in Oros on business. When checking on how Shikkeron's refit was coming along, she requested a private meeting with Bedan. At three in the afternoon he arrived at base headquarters, meeting with the commodore in her office.

After some casual banter, Darla came to the reason she had desired to see Bedan. "Captain, I asked you here today to offer you a new assignment, that is assuming you wish to remain in this Battle Group. You're free to request duties elsewhere in the Navy if you desire. I force no officers to hazard the dangerous duties that will be expected of them on this mission."

Bedan was surprised. Having been kept busy overseeing repairs and modifications to Shikkeron, and not being part of Darla's inner circle, he knew little about the coming mission. Uncertain and concerned, he asked, "Colonel... er, Commodore Adaya, what is your request?"

Darla cleared her throat while pondering Bedan's reaction. Looking him in the eye, she answered, "Captain Bedan, as I have stated, this coming exercise at war will be deadly dangerous, but... but I think you are a capable enough candidate to come off successful. So if you desire to accompany my flotilla into the unknown, I will be happy to have your support."

"Your flotilla?" Bedan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Darla nodded, "Yes, yes, in my service in this battle group. Captain, Shikkeron is an ancient ship and by any standards should be placed in a museum by now. Even with all the repairs and upgrades, it is little more than a running junk pile waiting for a disaster to happen. Her hull is weak, engines sluggish, equipment old and in need of added repairs. As you well know, with the war going the way it is, there has been little in the way of parts and supplies available for the refitting of this ship. We being down the food chain of importance, there's not much left for us."

She sighed sadly. "And we were given so little time, we couldn't replace the engines or even remove those antiquated turret guns. And I could only manage four H4C's to bolster our defenses. They're not much better than the old Marine fighters we have...and two Dumb Tobys... that's it. I doubt Shikkeron could outfight a modern frontline cutter. The only reason I'm using her at all is because she has become part of the legend of the Therioskotia."

Bedan politely argued to the contrary. "Commodore, I respectfully disagree. Shikkeron is a stout ship. Why, it took on the entire Stasis navy and would have beaten it if there hadn't been a saboteur aboard. With the refits I've seen done with it, it could take them on again...Salak's ships, too."

Darla placed her hands flat on the desk, leaning forward. She was uncomfortable sitting on this side of the officer's desk, didn't like it and made a mental note of the matter. Quietly she replied, "That aside, Captain, there will be very little for a senior officer to do other than yeomanly duty aboard the ship. Ardon is my second in command and will walk the bridge in my stead. I don't wish to see your skills limited to fetching me my tea."

She looked toward the wall, pretending to study something there, then looking back, continued, "Your talents are better used elsewhere. EkdikesisJoleck, formerly Haisely, is being readied to join this battle group. She is also an imperial brigantine, but displaces over a thousand tonnes more than Shikkeron, and she has all the latest gadgets and toys. I believe you will serve well as her new senior officer."

Bedan sat silent, staring down at the table.

Darla was puzzled but did not mention it. "Tomorrow a packet bound for Borivoery Navy Yards will pass this way to pick you up. That should give you time to settle in before departing for your appointed rendezvous with the others in the taskforce. The crew has already been assigned, but you may pick your junior officers. There is a large roster you can choose from. Or, if you wish, you may select from those aboard Shikkeron."

Bedan silently nodded, his eyes refusing to look up at the commodore.

Darla asked. "Captain, how long have you served aboard Shikkeron?"

Looking up and into the commodore's face, he answered, "Twelve years, Commander. I have been chief officer of Navy ships off and on for sixteen hundred years. Shikkeron was my first real warship, the ancient cutter DeshonKdencia, being the only other warship I commanded and that for only three months, it being bombed in its hangar."

He sighed, "Thank you for trusting such a valuable ship to my care. I will do my best not to disappoint you." Pushing on his knees, Bedan stood and started for the door. As his hand reached out to open it, he looked over his shoulder. "Commodore Adaya, may I have a word?"

Looking into crestfallen eyes, Darla nodded. "Yes, Captain, please..."

"Thank you." Bedan turned around. "Commodore Adaya, I know I'm not much of a captain...some say 'a hack driver fit for the cattle ships or commanding hulks headed for the scrap yard'. I've heard the talk...can't blame them. I'm slow of wit and indecisive at times, at least compared to other senior officers. The only reason I was given command of Shikkeron was they ran out of peacetime officers. I was at least still on the list. I wasn't angry with you when I took up being your chauffeur to sail you around the Trizentine. It was just that for all the years I'd captained Shikkeron, that was all I'd ever done, not even run one real patrol. You know, 'transport this, deliver that'. This command you've given me is a wonderful gift, and I thank you for it. But..." Bedan hesitated.

Darla asked, curious, "But what, Captain?"

Stepping toward Darla, Bedan made a cautious reply. "How well I realize the dangers we will be entering into, and I know that the EkdikesisJoleck will certainly see action. This would have been a dream come true for me not that long ago. But things have changed. Being captain of a new, fancy ship doesn't feel the way I expected it to... at least not anymore."

"What are you at, Captain?" Darla asked, puzzled. She motioned toward him, waving a hand. "Sit down, please, and explain what you mean."

Bedan felt awkward. After sitting, he fumbled for words to express his feelings, playing with his fingers as he gathered his thoughts. Finally he looked at Darla and began, "Well... er... Commodore, I know there are many others officers better qualified to serve Shikkeron under your oversight. And even if they could only do yeomanly duty, they would feel it the greatest privilege to be in your presence. I feel that way. To be a midshipman on Shikkeron would be a greater gift for me than to captain the most impressive dreadnaught. To share your life only as a deckhand gazing from afar is worth more than commanding the largest fleet and be away from your company."

Embarrassed, he apologized, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken these things. It's obvious that you have offered me such a wonderful position out of kindness for my feelings and not for my qualifications. And... and I should not have spoken so boldly my personal feelings concerning nonsensical things."

Darla stood, pacing the floor in thought, her hands clasped behind her back. At length she stopped and looking at Bedan, asked, "Captain, would you be willing to risk a dream share with me?"

Bedan's jaw dropped in surprise. He stuttered, "C... C... Com... Commo.. d.. ore, never has a woman of great renown requested such a thing from me, at least since Asotos stole our souls from us. Do you really speak with honesty your desire, or is it in jest or a test upon me you are flirting with?"

Darla closed her eyes, the ache she was seeing on Bedan's face bringing back too many unpleasant memories. She softly answered, "A test? Yes, but an honest request. I have questions that must be answered, but I have needs, too... to be a woman, if such a creature stills exists within my soul."

Asking Bedan to stand, Darla walked forward, and taking his hands in hers, kissed him gently on the lips. Stepping back while still holding his hands, she added, "This evening, as the moon crests the hills, I have a dinner appointment aboard Shikkeron with my taskforce lieutenants. Meet me there at nine. Then we shall see what the night brings. On the 'morrow, I will make my decision."

Bedan smiled. With growing nervous excitement he promised to be there.

After kissing him goodbye, Darla returned to her other duties. She couldn't help but wonder, a touch of trepidation in her heart. Lieutenant Ilanit had been an intimate companion, Darla having shared so many secrets with her. And Crilen...the number of carefree dream shares they had together the woman could not remember. Yet both had proved to be traitors, spies, seeking only the treasures of worth for their master.

What of Bedan? Was he to be trusted? A dream share could help Darla to a degree, but she would have to be careful with her probing the man's mind or he might feel the distrust in hers. Darla did not wish to hurt Bedan's feelings even though he undoubtedly understood the reason she wished to have a dream share with him. Still, the way he acted when she asked about having a dream share with her did boost the woman's ego a little to think the man found her desirable to be with. Never had a man from this world made love to her without some premeditated motive other than Zadar. But he was different - a lover, friend, a loyal companion.

Darla slowly shook her head in sad memory. Euroaquilo cared deeply for the child in her growing up years, but never offered his dreaming love until Mother requested it of him. He did fall in love with her in time, but she saw in their dream shares that he loved others as deeply, even more. And Ardon? He loved her now, but still she saw his yearnings for Tashi even in their most recent dream shares.

What of the others? There were so few, she could count them on her fingers, and most had been out of romantic or needy desires. On the field of battle one will draw close to another for many reasons. True, there was the occasional man from the Realms Below who had wrapped himself in her arms, but their love she could not count. She saw them as strangers in a land of sensual riches, so unlike their world filled with rules and restrictions. They acted more like children let loose in a candy store when it came to romance. She enjoyed their wild excitement and passion. She liked them, loved them, but still to have someone make love to her because they love her for the woman she is, just because she is she...what a wonderful thought!

Darla began to sing a little tune under her breath. When she walked, her feet felt a little lighter. She began to feel like a woman again. No, more like a maiden dreaming of first love. Maybe, just maybe, Bedan was being honest with her. Maybe he really did care for her. Maybe, just maybe, he even loved her. She dared not believe it, but her heart jumped, aflutter, wishing so badly for it to be so.

(Author's note _: 'Ekdikos Fleet' or 'Avenger Fleet' was a name for the HaimaEkdikos Battle Group that was bantered about by the fleet's officers in general conversation, a common practice of shortening long phrases when often used. As time progressed, and as the HaimaEkdikos Battle Group's ominous reputation grew, the people of the Empire shortened it even more, to 'The Ekdikos' or 'The Avengers', a name synonymous with its commander, Queen Adaya, Queen of the Darkness and of the Blood... the 'Avenger of Blood'...a name by which it and she are known to this day._ )

Jonathan sat on the edge of his bed sorting through personal effects, trying to decide the ones he would take to his new assignment on Avery. General TolmetesRhedEpi had been busy building up the Army's garrisons there and Field Marshal Trisha was going to make a visit to see how things were progressing. Chasileah and Jonathan were requested to accompany her and, if need be, remain with the general to assist in preparing the defenses of the Kalahnit Straits for an attack that would certainly be coming, most likely sooner than later.

A soft rap sounded on his door, accompanied by a cheerful hello. "Hey, old fellow, figured you'd be all packed and ready to go by now. Sudbury's pullin' out in a few hours. Havn't much time, ya know."

Jonathan looked up into Treston's smiling face, replying, "Almost done here, just a couple of little things to finish. How about you? Your girl, I mean. How's she doing?"

Treston reflected, answering, "If you're asking about Ishtar, she's doing fine. Got to one of those 'fix 'em up' machines...spendin' most of her time there. Another few weeks and she'd be good as new. Can't though... We're leaving tomorrow." He frowned, adding, "If it's my other girl you're askin' about, Alynnou, that's another story."

Curious, Jonathan asked, "What's wrong with her? I can't believe you and Alynnou could get on the outs. She's too taken with you."

Treston groaned, "It's not me and her. It's her and Clarion! Big feud, I'm afraid, and I'm in the middle."

Jonathan's ears tingled for some good gossip. He put down the items he was holding and begged to hear more.

Treston willingly obliged...one of the real reasons for his casual visit. "As you know already, our field marshal has been given a new command ship to travel in, the big brass figuring Starlight too easy a target for aggressive adversaries. The new imperial battle cruiser Sudbury is one hell of a capital ship, or so I've been told...almost as big as a small carrier."

Jonathan agreed, having already been aboard. "It was refitted to better suit Field Marshal Trisha's needs. They've increased the number of staterooms so the Army can do its business without interfering with ship's operations, and also so the officers won't feel like they're trapped on a torpedo barge. It's packed with the mostest, biggest, and meanest fighters, weapons systems, whatnots and anything else that makes a ship formidable. They even have half a dozen of those skull-and-crossbones Special Forces ships stowed away in her."

He waved his hand, gesturing, "There's still lots more room, Sudbury being so big. There are comfortable quarters for over five hundred Army personnel with space for four hundred Marines and sixteen hundred sailors, as well as some of those Special Forces people. It's going to take more than a sneak attack from a few enemy fighters to bring down this ship. Makes a person feel mighty safe. False security maybe, but secure anyway." Then, putting a finger to his lips, Jonathan warned, "It's hush hush, top secret and all. I told you because I know I can trust you. My friend, if I couldn't trust you, who would I have to trust?"

Thanking Jonathan for his confidence in him, Treston went on, "So, anyway, Army Command decided Starlight needed to be returned to the MueoPoros theater as some sort of a morale booster for our soldiers...least that's the way I understand it. Seeing I was supposed to return there as soon as we were finished with Anna's trial, it was decided to have me wait a little longer and ride Starlight back.

"So" Treston raised his eyebrows, "Command wanted me to take oversight of Starlight, it being an Army ship and all and, I suppose, anyone else with any authority didn't want to waste their time with it... the 'pass it down the ladder' effect, you know?"

Jonathan smiled, agreeing.

Treston sighed. "Well, with Ishtar getting medical treatment and Daisho offering to keep her company, and Sirion requesting leave to spend some time with Eutychus before he departs with you folks, it left Alynnou and Clarion to accompany me to one of the Navy depots located in the outer reaches of this star system where Starlight was being repaired... the location all secret and hidden.

"The shuttle was supposed to leave at thirteen hundred hours but there wasn't any rush. The packet was waiting on us, anyway. Well, as I learned later, Alynnou had some last minute business to finish, couldn't wait 'til we returned. She told Clarion, informing her she would be a little late and to have the captain wait up.

"When I arrived and asked where Alynnou was, Clarion said she had some urgent business to attend to and didn't say when it would be finished. Pressing her on the matter, she added that Alynnou didn't have her duffle bag with her and she took her carry-on bag along when she left. I found out later that Alynnou had delivered her luggage to the shuttle early that morning.

"I stalled for almost a half hour, waiting for Alynnou's return, Clarion becoming more and more anxious as time passed. At length, she suggested we leave, thinking it futile to wait any longer when it didn't look like Alynnou was planning on coming anyway. After another ten minutes' wait, I requested the shuttle pilot to depart for the packet...a very bad decision and one my gut told me not to make.

"We were gone for the better part of nine days...nine days that Clarion had to dote over me, much the way a mother does a spoilt child, 'cept more than motherly, if you catch my drift."

Jonathan acknowledged, smiling, "They do have a way about them. It never ceases to amaze me for all the time I've been here. And those dream shares! Who'd ever thought how twisted up you could get with someone, especially if they let themselves go. And they don't seem to care who you've been with, either..." Jonathan blushed a little thinking of Lieutenant Kitty and him being together, and Chasileah being in the same room, paying no never-mind.

Leaning forward, Treston lowered his voice, "I learned something troubling, friend. That's the reason I guess I hunted you down today. Clarion told me she had been in a sensual tizzy ever since she fired me up to be with Sirion... you know, what I told you about war in the mountains and all."

Jonathan nodded.

"Well...phew, that Clarion can sure be a romanticist! Wildest woman I ever met... and I've..." Treston blushed at the thought. "Well, you've heard enough tales about me. And those damned dream shares! She hasn't hid from me being a witch in the House of Elinor...least I think that's where her powers come from. I thought this was a strange and wonderful place, but the world of the Cherubs... that's where she said we went in our dreams together... the world of the Cherubs is beyond anything here."

Jonathan agreed. "Chesse's given me a peek or two into that place. Says too much too fast can screw up the brain."

"Clarion hasn't been so judicious...dumped the whole show on me." Treston shook his head. "You know Clarion, sorta' quiet, almost shy? You'd never know there was such a wild fire burning inside that woman." He paused. "But that wasn't what troubled me. In fact, that part of her was a lot of fun. She is a real fun person to be with. I do like her a lot, love her, really, but not like I do Alynnou."

Treston frowned. "And that is what troubles me. It's her and Alynnou. See, when Clarion lets go in her dream shares, she is too honest to put up any bars on her inner feelings. They just come out if she thinks 'em. Least I don't believe she was being intentional with what she shared. In fact, I don't even think she knew...knows she shared 'em with me. Didn't act like she did, at least.

"My friend, there's a dark brooding inside that woman I don't know how to deal with, how to respond to. Haven't said anything to anyone about it 'til now. Anyway, Clarion still blames Alynnou for the murder of her sisters in the House of Elinor by running away to hide in solace instead of releasing the powers she held keys to. The woman is jealous over Alynnou being given the gift of falling in love and having a man from the Lower Realms love her back the way I do.

"Clarion feels cheated...her life, her lovers, her soul stolen from her, resentful for being imprisoned behind the walls of EpipHaneia while in the world outside, life went on without her. She so much wanted to fight in the holy crusade to rid wickedness from this world and to avenge her sisters. All the while, the very head of that house, the Shandii, Alynnou, hid herself away in the mountains, afraid to use her powers to hold back Asotos."

Jonathan raised a hand, commenting, "But Alynnou already confessed her failure, surrendering to whatever was the will of the Cherubs and they still remained with her, helping her, allowing her to unleash the powers she has charge over. Why don't you talk to Clarion about these matters? The two women should be able to work things out."

"It's not that easy, friend." Treston frowned again. "When we returned and Alynnou found out what Clarion had done, the two of them got into a real... real, what you might call 'cat fight', screaming and shouting...everything but comin' to blows, I tell ya. I couldn't believe that two of Lowenah's daughters, Seraphim no less, would ever act that way toward each other. If it hadn't been for Daisho shaming them into becoming civil, I believe someone would have gotten hurt."

Jonathan asked, "So what did...or have you done about this?"

Treston sighed. "Not much, yet. Daisho has become my self-declared bodyguard. Won't let either one near me 'til she thinks they've grown up a little...punishing 'em for acting like 'spoiled little children' as she calls 'em."

He shook his finger toward Jonathan, speaking of Daisho, "Let me warn you, my friend, don't piss off that little lady! Alynnou and Clarion are both keeping their distance, all just formal and business-like when they're around me. I really do think they're afraid of my new officer, and they're a couple of pretty powerful people, ones I wouldn't want to tangle with."

Jonathan stopped Treston. "Excuse me, let me segue a bit. Who's this new officer you're talking about, Daisho?"

Treston stared at the ceiling, answering nonchalantly, "Girl's been placed under my command, been made a first lieutenant, personal adjutant."

Puzzled, Jonathan asked, "I thought that you had Lieutenant Alynnou for your personal adjutant."

"Been made a lieutenant colonel on my staff," Treston answered, "least for as long as the big brass doesn't find out about the little row. Oh yeah, and that's another thing that has ticked Clarion off. She's been made a major under Alynnou."

"Phew!" Jonathan exclaimed. "Trouble, trouble! I see it now!" He looked Treston in the face, questioning suspiciously, "Sounds like a lot of brass for a colonel to carry around. Tell me, what do I have to do to get so many nursemaids to care for me?"

Treston lowered his head, putting his closed hand to his mouth, pretending to clear his throat, shyly replying, "Would be for a colonel..."

"What?!" Jonathan cried, grinning. "Tell me what?! Are you holding back something, Colonel? Got anything else you want to tell your old friend?"

Treston hemmed and hawed, finally mumbling, "Sirion says all it takes to get promoted around here is to live long enough. Well, I guess I lived long enough."

"So what do I call you now, 'Captain Colonel, Sir', or something like that?" Jonathan asked, smiling.

"Er..." Treston mumbled again, "general...major general, to be exact."

As Jonathan stood to congratulate him, Treston waved him off. "Look here, Command just figured that since I was s'posed to be somebody in charge of a new stronghold on MueoPoros, I needed to have some sorta title to go along with it so that other more qualified officers would respect me a little. It's nothing more than that."

Laughing, Jonathan slapped Treston on the shoulder. "Congratulations, old fellow! I wonder what that governor of yours, Claudesius, I believe, would be thinking of his captain right now. Strange just how far we've all come, isn't it?"

Treston agreed. "Still doesn't solve my dilemma, though. Now I have two junior officers on my staff not getting along. Oh, they behave well enough when together on business, but they refuse to talk to each other or even dine together at my table in the officers' mess."

Smiling, Jonathan shook Treston's shoulder. "You will figure it out, General. You're a smart man. Saved Daisho and fought off Sirion's demons when the Cherubs couldn't even figure a way to. You will do fine, my friend, just fine."

The two bantered on a little while longer before Treston left. Then Jonathan got back down to business. In short order, he was packed up and headed for the shuttle. As he passed by the officers' wardroom, Chasileah called out to him to step inside. Doing so, he was introduced to a nattily dressed captain from General NoazOhfehr's staff.

Chasileah, her eyes puffy red, apparently from crying, asked Jonathan to sit. "You remember Captain AndrewChablis, don't you?"

Jonathan offered his greeting as the captain stood, reaching out a hand.

Chasileah cleared her throat. "The good captain has arrived here at the personal request of General Noaz. He has some very important news the general wanted directly delivered into your hand."

Captain Andrew nodded, his somber countenance troubling Jonathan. He sat back down, sliding a small box toward Jonathan while offering him a sealed envelope. "I'm sorry, Sir. The good general sends his deepest regrets."

Uneasiness grew in Jonathan's stomach, but for the life of him he wasn't able to figure out why General Noaz would go to all this trouble to send one of his staff officers on a two-week hard run from MueoPoros just to deliver a letter. And what reason could there be for him to send his regrets? He wasn't kept waiting long.

Jonathan fumbled with the envelope, slowly extracting the neatly folded paper inside. Carefully opening it, he read:

' _My dear friend and confidant,_

It is with deepest regret I must inform you that Lieutenant KittleBaclin was gravely wounded while serving in the line of duty delivering messages to the front, later succumbing to her injuries. Before her death she requested that her personal effects be delivered to you... that you would know what to do with them. Lieutenant Kitty was an outstanding officer and was loved by many. She will be missed by all.

Again, my deepest regrets.

Your brother in peace and troubled times.

General NoazOhfehr'

Jonathan stared blankly at the letter. No one spoke. He finally stood and, taking the box, thanked Captain Andrew for his willingness to travel such a great distance to see him. Then he asked the captain to offer his appreciation to the general for his kindness. Finally turning to Chasileah, he quietly requested to take his leave.

Chasileah could only nod, fearing more tears.

Shuffling away, Jonathan softly closed the door behind him, picked up his duffle bags, and slowly made his way to the shuttle.

* * *

"Ooooooh..." Mihai groaned, holding her forehead with a shaky hand. Somewhere far below was a highly polished marble floor decorated with ruby, jade and diamond inlaid mosaics. How did she know this? Her eyes were firmly shut, refusing to allow the least light in. It was because one foot was touching that floor...at least the woman thought it was her foot and assumed it was the floor.

Mihai released another painful groan and fell back across the bed. "I will never drink it again. I promise no more of that Medeba wine will cross my lips...at least if served by that man." That man?! Mihai's arms splayed across the bed searching for that man. He was not there. Now she remembered. Paul left hours before, hurrying away on morning business that could not wait. The woman's groans changed to that of moans of disappointment. She pulled her knees up to her chest, grabbing a pillow from the mattress and squeezing it between her legs, rolled onto her side and drifted back off to sleep.

The chiming of Gradian's Clock echoed through the wafting silken curtains as the radiance of an early afternoon sun flooded Mihai's sensitive eyes, rudely intruding upon her dreamy, erotic visions of sensual fantasies. She woke to find those tender, loving touches to be that of her own playful fingers and not gentle Paul having returned.

"Damn!" she sputtered. "Why do I let him get under my skin that way? And then he's never around when I need his touch most."

Mihai's eyes flew open wide as she realized what time it was. Bolting out of bed and nearly falling, almost losing her balance on wobbly legs, she hurried as best she could to prepare for afternoon events. Today was the day that Commodore Darla was departing EdenEsonbar with her Trizentine fleet. That was what the revelry was all about the previous evening...the last hurrah, the parting of lovers, the joyous goodbyes that helps cover the aches when hearing of lost comrades.

She sadly shook her head, wondering just how many of these gala events she had attended and how long ago they began. The customs of such festivities were not new, dating back countless millennia, Lowenah's children always game for a good party. Mihai thought a moment. No, there was a definite change that took place during the Second Megiddo War...the Aphrodite Wars. Although not large by the day's standards, it was a most bloody and destructive one for those who participated, often entire regiments falling in a single engagement. By the time of the Three Hundred Years War, the parting revelry was a common practice.

And the drinking? Never had wine flowed so freely with careless abandon. Mother frowned upon such wantonness but remained silent concerning it. The world had changed, her children had changed, wine clouding a mind dealing with the insane realities of the long wars and endless deaths. It ruined Planetee for awhile, nearly killing her. Mother never reacted disapprovingly, only cradling her little darling with loving arms when the child would stumble into Lowenah's private chambers in a forgetful stupor, seeking consolation for lovers lost.

Mihai paused in thought, leaning against an ornately decorated column. Last eve's event was an elegant costumed ball, a suggestion put forward by a certain Jebbson Garlock. The major had come attired in a natty dress uniform copied from a design of his own making, though he said it was similar to those worn by gentlemen officers of his earlier days. Planetee dressed to match the era, elegantly attired in a hoop-skirted, floor-length gown, with all the trimmings of a Southern belle. The two made quite a splendid couple. When the orchestra struck up Boccherini's 'La Musica Nocturna Delle Strade Di Madrid', they cleared the floor with their artfully romantic waltzing.

A smile grew on Mihai's face, nodding her head to the music as it played in her mind. Planetee glowed with the light of an innocent maiden dancing at her coming of age party in joyful expectation of the coming eve. Round and round the floor they twirled, each step more graceful than the last. And then there was the woman's sweet laughter of forgetful joy as the excitement of the moment pushed away all thought of the past. Oh, how beautiful a couple they made!

Mihai frowned, puzzling, what was it about these men from the wild Realms Below? There was a passion, a fire of emotion that always remained hidden just below the surface. It made her heart race just thinking of the way Paul could romance her, making her forget the past and the future, surrounding her emotions with only the moment, making her wish that moment could be the eternity wished for, that eternity taking a pause and never starting anew. Was that how Planetee felt last eve? Mihai smiled again, hurrying off to take her bath.

The ride to the Space Port was uneventful, but still pleasant. The coachman was a long-time acquaintance, almost as old as an Ancient, a child from the beginning of the Second Age, always able to conjure up a story of some long ago happening that Mihai had never heard. Today he was whistling a new little tune. He liked to try out his latest inventions of harmonics on Mihai, she being too honest to tell him it was good if it was not.

Mihai sat back, resting her head on the overstuffed, pillow-like seat backs, listening to the coachman's melodious refrains...quite good, actually. She pondered recent events, trying to make sense of them.

Anna should have arrived over EremiaPikros by now, her ship passing beyond the frontier of the Children's Empire some days ago. Mihai had refused to see her off, leaving such legal matters to Alynnou and Treston, two very capable people to do the job. It was Darla who chose the ship, MoonDust, saying it was most fitting for Anna to be gifted passage on a ship where many innocent people were murdered because of her traitorous actions. Besides the guard crew who departed the ship just beyond the frontier, and Anna, there were almost two-dozen of her fellow conspirators aboard.

(Author's note: _True to Anna's confession, the murder of Captain Jusenah aboard Sophia remained unsolved. Mihai's failure to resolve that crime would eventually lead to disaster._ )

Mihai breathed a sigh of relief. The worst was over, at least for the moment. There still remained unsettling questions regarding the attack on the railstage. Enemy agents had managed their way into the newly built military transport tunnels that ran though the Kaissal Mountains, running parallel to the railstage's tracks just before the Trangil High Pass, the distance between the military tunnel and railstage at that point less than two rods apart. At that juncture, a series of charges had been placed, exploding at the precise moment the railstage rounded the curve heading for the Kaissal Long Tunnel.

What was so troubling to Mihai was how the enemy managed to enter the military tunnel and then traverse some eight miles of it with a half ton of explosives and never be detected. The arrests of Anna's agents provided no answers. If Lieutenant Ilanit was involved and possibly Lieutenant Crilen, whoever orchestrated the action made sure they would never divulge the facts. Dead men tell no tales. Mihai fussed and turned to look out the window, searching for a distraction.

The day was glorious. Spring in Palace City was beautiful, the flowers magnificent, the flying bugs and birds interesting, the air pleasant. Mihai recalled that once, as a young woman, after having endured a horrendous blizzard as she climbed Heaven's Stairs, asking Lowenah why she had chosen such a cold and dismal location for her home when all the universe was hers for the choosing. Lowenah only smiled and winked, answering, "When the prison door of winter is shattered by spring's warmth, the heart sings, bursting with life...something one can never experience in an ever-flowering world."

Mihai smiled. Yes, it was true. Her heart felt lighter just looking at the excited world of spring. Everything was in such a hurry in spring, but it was a happy hurry, not the kind one sees at the approaching of winter but one that is like a little child that is in a rush to enjoy life. Opening the window, Mihai laid her head back, closing her eyes, listening to the before-summer music flooding her senses.

The coach eased to a stop outside a drab, gray hangar, waking Mihai from a carefree doze. The armed guard sitting next to the coachman hurried to open the carriage door while the two guards seated outside, behind the cabin, took up their posts on either side of the machine.

Frowning, Mihai departed the coach, thanking the guard for her kindness. Security had been lax around Palace City until the railstage debacle. Now, by the will of her trusted counselors, including Paul, Mihai never traveled alone, the palace her only sanctuary of solitude, it being protected by the Cherubs. She had frowned because the presence of the guards reminded her just how much innocence had been stolen from the children of this world.

She was not allowed time to linger in such negative repose. Paul rushed up to her, wearing a cheerful grin as he clasped her hands, drawing close, speaking in just above a whisper, "More of the same tonight? Love, I have even managed more of that witch's brew you so desired."

Wrinkling her face in disapproval, Mihai sourly rebuffed Paul for his uncouth improprieties, chastising him for his wickedly seductive ways. No matter, Mihai could not hide the twinkle in her eyes, nor the sudden salivating...and not necessarily for the ancient bottle of Medeba wine Paul possessed.

"As you say, my Lord..." Paul leaned forward, softly kissing Mihai on the lips. "Whatever is your wish, my Lady..."

"Oh, shut up!" Mihai blushed, gently pushing Paul toward the hangar door. She spoke to him in a hush, "We shall discuss this at a later time...hopefully, much sooner than later." She kissed him on the cheek. "But now for business...and no touching until we're alone and business is finished."

Paul grinned. "As you wish, my Lady... As you wish." The two disappeared into the shadows of the cavernous building, the door slowly closing behind them.

* * *

Captain Ilaniya hurried along behind Asotos as best she could, the pain in her belly giving her a noticeable limp. Along dimly lit corridors and through one dark chamber after another they went, tens of thousands of voices from an excited crowd drifting down through the arena floor just above them. It had been a very bad night and this day was proving to be nightmarishly worse.

When hearing of Anna's arrival, Asotos had gone into a joyful rage, drinking himself into a blinding stupor with his junior officers. Ilaniya was forced to dance at the evening's orgy, accepting whatever abuses and vulgarities were dished out to her with smiles and laughter. If a woman did not laugh or pretend pleasure while being raped, often violently and by many men, she might not live the night. Ilaniya did not fear such a violent death, being Asotos' pet. But she did fear the man's wrath if he felt she had shamed him, so her performance was seductive and alluring.

The worst came after festivities ended. Asotos was in a violent, drugged-up mood, his anger at a peak against Anna, and he took much of it out on Ilaniya. Later, in his private chambers, he made the woman the focus of his attention throughout the night. After he tired of beatings and other physical and verbal abuses heaped upon her, he carried Ilaniya to his bed, she unable to walk. There, for the first time since her capture, he had relations with her, filling her mind with the most vile and nightmarish visions he could conjure. Eventually the woman passed out, not regaining consciousness for several hours.

Sometime in the early morning, Ilaniya roused herself enough to leave the bed and clean up the blood and vomit she was covered in. Sick to the point of fainting, the woman dared not stop her assigned duties, first hand-bathing her master and tidying up as best she could. Then, when he waked, she made sure his favorite meal and drink were promptly delivered to his bed. This day was also strenuous for her because of the repeated times she had to hurry away in another vomiting spell.

Now, as she hobbled along behind Asotos, Ilaniya could not shake visions of Anna's coming fate. All night Anna's name had sounded off the walls of Asotos' chambers and in Ilaniya's head as her master screamed curses and threats in the woman's mind, he dreaming she was Anna. The woman shuddered with trepidation at what Anna's fate was to be after seeing earlier events of the day.

By afternoon, Asotos was out and about, having joined in the revelry at the Judicial Coliseum. He ignored Ilaniya for most of that time, allowing her to seek shelter in dark corners so as not to have to watch the tortures and executions of Anna's co-conspirators, the 'traitorous villains who had accompanied Anna on her mischievous, clandestine journey to bring down the League of Brothers' as Asotos described it. But Ilaniya could not escape, going unnoticed all day. When the recent roar of the crowd was subsiding, someone moved aside the curtain behind the grand viewing stand, searching for Ilaniya.

"You get your ass moving!" Asotos shouted, angrily motioning Ilaniya to follow him. "We have business to attend to and your assistance is needed." Off she went on a stumbling run.

Now the captain found herself hurrying along to keep up with Asotos as they traversed a passage leading to the arena floor, attempting to ignore the pain racking her body. Upon reaching the double doors that opened before the crowds in the colosseum, Asotos was greeted by several officers and prison authorities.

"Are we ready?" Asotos asked with a determined smile.

The chief prison administrator politely bowed, answering, "Yes, my Lord. All has been done exactly as you requested. We wait upon your direction."

Asotos bowed eloquently, thanking the administrator for his loyal efforts. He then turned to another officer. "I wish to have some private words with this person before we officially proceed. Have the band play some rousing music until I say otherwise, and keep the sound system off us until told."

"Yes, your Graciousness! It is already done!" The officer bowed low and upon rising, saluted then rushed away to carry out his master's orders.

Everyone faced the doors, waiting. Suddenly, a three hundred piece military band struck up with the music, 'Prelude to Greatness' the national anthem for the League of Brothers. This would soon be followed by 'Humble Shall all Mighty Men Walk', Asotos' personal anthem.

While waiting for the double doors to open, Ilaniya studied the surrounding gathering. There were a few highly decorated, neatly dressed officers of prestigious rank; armed guards – the ones who accompanied the two on the way here, and others waiting for their arrival; some junior officers and then the judicial personnel, those people assigned to administer punishment to the offender of justice.

Ilaniya had never been in the bowels of the Colosseum before, doing her best to avoid it all together. Although called the 'Judicial Coliseum', where justice and fairness were supposed to be administered under the righteous laws of the League of Brothers, it was more often used as entertainment for the warped and twisted members of that dictatorship. War prisoners were often delivered here when no real criminals could be found. Real criminals? Ilaniya frowned. The real criminals were the ones in charge!

The band began 'Humble Shall All Mighty Men Walk' and the giant double doors slowly started to open. Everyone stood at attention, the officers saluting while the judicial personnel gathered their assigned tools as soldiers would their weapons. The judicial administrator, his surgeon's bag at his side, held his right hand over his heart, softly singing the words of praise for his leader.

When the doors had spread wide, revealing the host within, Asotos and Ilaniya, followed by his lieutenants and the others, slowly marched from the cavernous darkness into the brilliance of domed stadium lighting. The crowd cheered, throwing passionate kisses and flowers down to their godly leader. Here walked the most majestic of men in this kingdom, no, in all kingdoms! He gave to them life and breath, he was all things to them, his soul was their soul, his might theirs.

Lifting his hands high, Asotos slowly turned in a circle, bowing at appropriate intervals and showing his beaming face to the world. When finished, he lowered his hands and the people became silent. At the same moment, a quartet of horns started with 'Darth and Amerce', a dirge played when calling one who has been found guilty to the judge's seat to receive sentence.

While the horns continued to sound, two leaved doors at the far end of the arena slowly opened, revealing a huge wheeled platform, empty except for a small wooden derrick surrounded by a curtain. Two bound hands tethered to the derrick's upper posts could be seen extending above the curtain's wall, hiding the person being delivered up to the greatest judge, Asotos.

Looking up toward the vaulted ceiling of the immense theater, Ilaniya watched the giant projection screens as they focused in on Asotos. How he could put on the charm and mesmerize an audience when being the center of their attention. The man never faltered in front of a crowd, at least never since Ilaniya had arrived, except at the prisoner exchange when that Trisha woman made him look the fool. No one in his kingdom ever saw that news event, and any one of his people present either never mentioned it or claimed it was only Erithia's - Lowenah's - witchery at work.

Asotos and his party made their way to the center of the arena floor, waiting there for the approaching wheeled machine. All the while, the excited crowd continued their uproarious applause, it becoming more intense as their anticipation grew for the coming games. Already they had witnessed the retribution meted out to those who dared threaten the League... three hours of continuous bloodletting and torture, slow death administered in every way one could possibly imagine. It took an hour to clean up the blood and gore before Asotos could proceed with the grand finale. Now those in attendance believed the ringleader of this treacherous band was arrived to receive righteous judgment, one reserved for only the vilest of the vile.

When the machine halted, the band abruptly stopped playing and the cameras focused up close on the drawn curtain. Asotos paused for the excited crowd to hush, the throng reveling in the growing suspense to have revealed who the evil person was hidden from them behind the opaque cloth. At just the right moment he signaled, the curtain dropping at the wave of his hand. A collective gasp rose from the rapt audience as realization sank in as to who stood before them chained at the wrists and ankles, waiting upon the judgment of their king and leader.

Asotos allowed a moment to pass in which the people could gather their senses. Then with a nod, the band began anew, this time playing 'Ode to Humility', a favorite dirge when those accused of treason and blasphemy stood before the judgment seat. Indeed, nothing could be done in the officialdom of the League of Brothers without adequate pomp and circumstance. And there always appeared to be some special hymn or ritual for every event and occasion.

Anna was stretched tall, naked, her hands separately cuffed, extended straight up together. Her feet were spread wide with just the woman's toes touching the wooden deck. From the way she agonized, her weak and pitiable moans as her head lolled from side to side, some time had likely passed since they put her there. Ilaniya noticed the woman's hands had turned a pale shade of blue, apparently from the cuffs being clasped so tight around her wrists, and there were tiny rivulets of dark red blood oozing down her arms.

With another nod from Asotos, the chief prison administrator followed by his assistants hurried forward and up the steps at the side of the platform. The administrator placed his surgeon's bag on a tiny stand and withdrew a syringe, sticking its needle into Anna's neck just behind her jaw. The woman jerked in pain, crying out as her eyes opened wide. The drug coursed through her body, removing any fatigue, while bringing every cell of her flesh alive with hyper-sensitivity.

As the band played on, finishing one song and starting another, and then another, keeping up the solemn tone of the hour, Asotos strode forward and up the steps to the platform, Ilaniya closely following. The chief administrator bowed to his king and backed out of the way, yet remained close enough to be of service.

Smiling, Asotos indignantly approached until his face was only inches from Anna's. He asked, inquiringly, "So, did the horses provide you with appropriate welcome?"

Anna moaned, the agony of her belly rides still cripplingly painful.

"Well, well, I thought you would find them to be so." Waving a hand toward Ilaniya, he added, "Most of our female guests are welcomed here by such hospitality. It prepares them for other weightier responsibilities that will be demanded of them later. All who I have asked have told me that it was a most enjoyable experience, though few request another ride...something they really have little choice in anyway. Isn't that right, Captain?" He glanced toward Ilaniya.

A nightmarish vision tore through Ilaniya's mind. Four times she had ridden the beasts' bellies, nearly dying during the last episode. And those had not been part of the weightier responsibilities delivered upon her over these many months...responsibilities that scarred body, mind and spirit. Fighting back a churning sickness, she forced a smile and nodded.

Leaning closer to Anna, he asked, "What have you to say? Are you willing now to confess your treacherous ways and admit to the treason you have borne against me and my people?"

Anna began to weep, begging, "My Lord! My Lord! Only you I have loved for all these many ages, wishing so to be by your side. With all my power, I have tried to please you, bringing you delight the very purpose of my life."

"Is that really so?" Asotos sourly replied, spitting in her face. "Repeatedly you have embarrassed me with your wicked deeds. And then to deliver twisted reports about my enemy's war plans and that bitch-woman from the prisoner exchange? Your failure to warn me of such a creature ruined many months of concerted effort. You made me a public spectacle of humiliation!"

Anna denied it, shaking her head as she cried, "My Lord! My wonderful and loving Lord, I have only worshipped you! All that I have done has been for you. My only desire has been to wrap you in my warmth, sheltering you from the cold of this world."

Asotos backed up, rubbing his smoothly-shaven chin as he pondered a reply. Grinning, he stepped forward again, placing his right hand on Anna's bare breast, nodding, "Yes, yes I do believe you will have your way with me. They..." He placed his left hand upon Anna's other breast. "They will make excellent gloves to warm my hands on cold wintry nights."

Anna gasped in shock, terror growing in her eyes.

"Oh..." Asotos leaned closer, hissing, "and your hide will wrap itself around me in a most beautiful coat. It will keep me so warm, and... and it will be a constant reminder of you whenever I slip it on."

Anna cried out, "No! No, my Lord! You will not do such a thing to the woman who loves you so! I will do anything you want me to, anything at all..."

Asotos grinned. "Yes you will. I believe you. And this is what I want - a snug, cozy, jacket to wear on those damp, cold days, you know, the kind when you just feel like pulling something tight around you."

Wailing at the reality of Asotos' reply and that he was not playing with her, but was serious, Anna beseeched the man, "Please, my Lord, my god, let me be a slave in your house. Let me serve your every wish. Do not do this cruel thing to a faithful servant of yours."

Asotos snarled, "Shut up, you, for I have spoken only of the kindness I will show to you! You have betrayed me and my people. For that you must suffer the fate of a traitor, indeed, the greatest of traitors. You are to receive the judgment of agnaphos eso (lit. to lay naked the inner body)."

Anna cried out again with oaths of devotion while imploring him for mercy.

Asotos scowled angrily, "You are to be impaled upon a stake until death. In the meantime, you will become bereft of your female parts, not deserving to be a woman. Then your skin, from the soles of your feet to the top of your head shall be removed from you. But not to worry, my surgeons will assist you so that life remains long within your soul. With precision, these men will help you gain insight into your inner self... literally."

Anna's face went ashen, shaking her head in disbelief.

"No...No...It's really true, my dear." Asotos' face became grave. "These people are well-practiced and know how to assist you in every way, just like they assisted me with the others you delivered here, that is, all except this one." He pointed at Ilaniya. "She I've taken fancy to...at least for the moment. The others, though, made excellent teaching tools for my people who have become highly skilled at keeping the flesh alive long after the soul has tired of the sport."

Anna whimpered tearfully, "But you loved me! You promised me we would be together forever in a lasting bond! You do not see who is before you. It's me, Anna, your cherished lover!"

Asotos' mocking reply burned Anna's senses, freeing ever so slightly the shadowy mist so long clouding her mind. "See, woman!" He pointed toward a neatly dressed officer. "He is a better lover than you ever were. His breasts intoxicate me and his ardor fills me with power. You are a hopeless slut-whore, an imitation rag of reality. You and all your kind are trash and deserve no notice whatsoever!"

Paying no further attention to the woman's pleas for mercy, Asotos turned to Ilaniya, pointing at Anna. He confessed, "This person sold you into my hands. For a false hope and a fool's chance, she delivered you here to become my special plaything until I tired of you as I have her. Do you not despise her? Do you not wish to seek some retribution from her for what she has done to you? Shall you have a sow's ear or a groin pelt as your reward, seeing that she has been delivered into your hand?"

He took a sharpened blade from a belt sheath, offering it to Ilaniya. "Here, take what you wish from this pitiable whore who sold you and all your kind into damnation."

Ilaniya lowered her head, declining the blade.

Asotos growled, "What is wrong with you?! This is your opportunity for sweet revenge. Take for yourself what she has stolen from you for look, she still has a foreskin to have circumcised... something stolen from you so many months ago. Here! Take it and regain your pride."

Ilaniya peered into Asotos' face, quiet desperation showing on hers. Tears began as she quietly answered, "She is the goddess of light, Consort Divine, the one offering promises to all the daughters of despair. I cannot touch her flesh or spirit and not become unclean regarding the gift for all of Mother's daughters."

Asotos' hands began to tremble while his face went white with rage. But as quickly as it had begun it ended. The crowd was watching, and the crowd must see the god they adore. He was a man in control of himself and thus he was in control of all things. They trusted him to bring them salvation and he would not let them down, for it was only by his personal strength that this entire world remained together. Never could the people see their king out of control. A rebellious woman was not going to cause that to happen!

A sudden laugh cut the evening air, "All right, then! As you wish. I will deliver to you the gift you seek."

Midst screams of agony, Asotos cut away the skin from Anna's pubic region, tearing off her external female parts while doing so. Holding high the bloody prize, he presented it to the audience and then bowed in a gesture of chivalry before Ilaniya. The crowd went wild with drunken applause, clamoring for more.

"My Lady!" Asotos extended the crimson flesh toward Ilaniya, but quickly withdrew it before she could publicly embarrass him by refusing it.

"Take this!" He handed off it to an attendant. "Clean and tan this so I may make it a fair gift to this woman so deserving. Be at it quickly!"

Turning back to Anna, the surgeon already busy stitching and cauterizing the ugly wound, Asotos glanced at his handiwork and grinned. "You will learn more about yourself than you may wish, my Dear, and you will have a front row seat to witness the talent of my team as they practice their dissecting abilities. Fear not! You will not be totally blinded, for you are to see how skilled these people are. The projection screens are here for your viewing pleasure."

Asotos touched Anna's lips, cooing, "I will be right over there. If you need me, just call." As he turned to leave, he sourly ordered an attendant, "Remove those ghastly things from off her face, now!"

The orderly smartly bowed, nodding, "Yes, your Graciousness! Now! As you wish!"

Several dozen seats had been set up some ten paces away. Banquet tables were also scattered here and there along with wine and other hearty drinks. It would be a long night and, should anyone grow hungry, it would not be polite to make the guests become famished. Also, it was customary for the one receiving a lengthy judgment to be offered some refreshment at times as a polite courtesy.

Ilaniya sat, trying to keep from viewing the execution, but her eyes refused to always obey. In sickening horror, she watched the surgeon wile away the evening's hours, being well past midnight before Asotos signaled they leave. For months afterward, the ghastly visions of that night would not give the woman rest, the stress of that experience and following events tearing at her sanity and health. But her life refused to escape her, that rescue arriving in future days and in most mysterious ways from an unexpected savior.

While Asotos and other elite officers and judges seated themselves, a herald took the stage, standing in front of the accused. He pronounced the many treasonous acts Anna had committed against the League of Brothers. No one questioned the validity of the accusations. It mattered little anyway, being just a formality for the records. Those gathered there cared not for legal reasons. They wished only for the show to begin. This was simply a necessary prelude to murder, legitimizing it.

When finished reading the charges against Anna, the herald proceeded to deliver a lengthy dissertation on the findings of the court and reasons for meting out the coming punishment, explaining in clear detail why it was so richly deserved.

'Be on with it!' those in attendance shouted in their collective minds, but no one dared speak it aloud. Protocol must be followed, even though all present knew the real reason why Anna must die such a horrid death. 'We have waited this game long enough! Give us her joyous screams and cries of pain so that we may live our emotions through her, so that we may feel again! To feel her agony is better than to feel nothing. And nothing is all we can feel unless it is another's dread and anguish.'

Eventually Anna's judicial punishment was announced, immediately followed by gleeful shouts of the thousands gathered in the arena. For twenty minutes, the herald described in detail the actions that were to be taken, often stopping to once again state the justification for the extreme measures. Long before he finished, the audience was chanting, demanding for the torture to begin.

Finally as the herald stepped from the platform, the judicial administrator and his experienced staff of surgeons hurried forward, ready to excise Anna's flesh while medical technicians stood by their machines, prepared to lend assistance when requested. Microphones were turned up so that Anna's every shreik and moan could easily be heard. All the while, drone cameras hovered like hungry vultures, seeking to capture every probe and cut in minute detail to be displayed on huge multiple screens located around the coliseum.

Asotos motioned to the medical team. Hidden servos whirred to life, slowly spreading Anna's arms up and out, lifting her body until her toes barely touched the floor. Then a surgeon and two technicians busied themselves preparing the woman for execution, attaching tubes for fluids and whatever else was needed to keep her alive and alert, administering more drugs that heightened sensitivity to pain. When finished, the administrator nodded to the head surgeon who promptly reached for the instruments of his trade. In seconds, Anna began her screams of torment that lasted throughout the night.

The surgeon was very patient, making sure his every stroke and cut was artfully designed to induce searing agony. He whistled a merry tune, enjoying his task as an artist does. Anna was going to be his greatest achievement, his most perfect dissection to date. Time? He was in no hurry. Perfection takes time...

At length, the surgeon stood triumphant as he pulled Anna's internal female parts from her lower body cavity, fully intact. He grinned, holding the trophy high for the crowd to see. With a beaming face, the man resumed his work, much to the joy of the viewers. Slowly, carefully, and with the same patient skill previously shown, he removed other organs through the same cavity. Anna's bladder, kidneys, spleen, and various smaller body parts soon lay on display for all to cast their hungry gaze upon.

Satisfied with his work, the surgeon signaled that he was now finished and it was time to proceed. Servos whirred again. From the floor of the platform, a cylindrical shaft with a conical point a handbreadth across slowly rose from its hiding place beneath the platform. Two men took hold of Anna, maneuvering her into position, while a third greased the shaft and then guided it in its slow, unrelenting ascent.

The crowd went wild with anticipation as Anna's face filled with panic and grief when feeling the thrust of the impaling ram forcing its way up and into her lower bowels. The woman's feet were lifted off the floor, the skin of her ankles being cut and torn by restraining cuffs that prevented her body from rising along with the shaft. Ilaniya closed her eyes, but not before seeing bloody vomit gush from Anna's mouth as the impaling shaft crushed her insides and ruptured her stomach.

Now came time for a break. The band struck up with some gay melodies, marching around the outer ring of the arena floor. Food and drink vendors ventured into the crowd, hawking their goods while other vendors – those who offered mind-altering drugs or other favors – busied themselves at their trades.

"Hey you!" Asotos had noticed Ilaniya. He leaned close so others would not hear, speaking in just above a whisper, "Open those eyes of yours or I'll put you up there next to that slut! I will remove your eyelids, if necessary. You need to see this. It will help you remember your place in my house..."

Ilaniya dutifully obeyed, wetting herself in anguish and disgust. She sat, clutching her upper body with her arms, attempting to control her unrelenting shakes. Tears ran down her face while an occasional whimper escaped her lips. Asotos watched, his anger increasing, but he said nothing for the moment. When asked, he explained that it was her pent-up emotions being released at seeing justice finally meted out to such a wicked person.

The surgeons began again, Anna's wild screeches empassioning the people whose eyes were glued to the viewing screens, all of them crying for the violence to escalate. Soon two attendants were busy with crushing pincers, one at each hand, slowly removing fingernails then fingers, one joint at a time. When finished, they started on the toes, doing the same with them. Seeing that Anna continued closing her eyes to avoid the viewing screens, not wishing to see her increasing disfigurement, the surgeon carefully removed her eyelids, leaving what appeared to be a woman staring aghast with bulging eyes. The audience loved it.

An electrical charge jolted the woman, sparks flying off the chains binding her hands and feet. Anna howled, her body shaking in uncontrolled tremors. The howling was taken up by those in the Judicial Coliseum, driving many into trance-like orgies, screaming and tearing at their own flesh while rolling in the aisles. These shocks to her body were repeated at random intervals until Anna expired.

Returning to his work, the surgeon proceeded to finish removing the remainder of Anna's femininity. After carefully cutting away the woman's areolas, he took from the holes in Anna's breasts all tissue, muscle, and even the lymph nodes that make a female a female. Using all his surgical skills and tools designed for ultimate pain, the surgeon carefully extracted each gland and fiber with exact precision as if dissecting a specimen in a laboratory, holding up with pride each one of his successes. When finished, two empty sacks of skin hung limply from Anna's chest.

Ilaniya could not hold her stomach in check and repeatedly vomited throughout the night, using whatever bucket was available. Asotos confessed to others that she had eaten some soured food earlier in the day. He politely asked her if she needed to take her leave, his eyes threatening her if she did so. Ilaniya only shook her head while attempting not to puke on Asotos' feet.

Sitting down next to her, Asotos leaned over and whispered in Ilaniya's ear, "This is so abhorrent to you, isn't it? But you are no better than I, slut-maiden."

She stared at him, aghast.

Asotos smiled as if about to reveal a dark secret, his white teeth showing brightly. Holding back a laugh, he chided, "You think yourself so pure? I've watched you...your eyes. I will tell you for a fact, you are no better than I or any of my whores watching the games today."

Ilaniya puzzled at his statement.

Sneering, Asotos asked, "The finely tooled leather furniture that you luxuriate in, your leather jackets, pants, and purses...where do you think I have found such exquisite hides to have them crafted from? And those spiced and pickled meats I share at my banquets, so delicately flavored so that each morsel excites the tastes...have you ever found any animal to be as sweet in flavor and richness? Why do you think I have so generously gifted you with such riches that are worth far more than the largest battle cruiser?"

It took a moment for Asotos' words to sink in. Then, in a violent rush, Ilaniya gagged, puking until bloody froth dripped from her mouth.

So this was the real Chrusion! What a fool she had been to grasp at so little a hope of remembering the gentle, loving man she once knew. The visions that had kept her alive in this awful world were shattered, the loving and tender words from long ago when they had shared private memories beneath the twin moons on the planet Chrusion. His touch, his kindness, his enchanting love songs... all her ancient visions shattered into ghastly shards savagely ripped away by the torrid, nightmarish reality of this hour.

When the tumult in her intestines eased, Ilaniya stared up at Asotos' gloating face, snarling a reproach. "There is no greater gift that could be given than to offer up one's soul to present to you the same reward you have given to my sisters!"

Asotos' face went white with rage. His body shook with a desire to rip this worthless slime to pieces. She was ruining his fun, his night! This woman was supposed to grovel at his feet after seeing Anna's demise, but no! She had become emboldened to speak against him in a way no other person had ever dared.

Forcing his rage and anger back into hiding, Asotos hissed, "Later with you... expect it later!"

Suddenly, Asotos realized that everyone was waiting upon him. The surgeon stood, presenting his many trophies already extracted from a tortured woman. Asotos rose to his feet and walked over to examine the man's handiwork, nodding approvingly. He clapped his hands, twirling around to face the applauding crowd. "Fresh and sweet is the meat, and choice are the prizes available to those of you wishing to buy such goods! What is the value placed upon a part of the Consort Divine, daughter of Erithia? To the highest bidder shall these favors be awarded!"

Thousands of greedy hands shot into the sky, followed by shouts and cheers as countless feet hurried down to the field to place their bid for even the tiniest of fleshly morsels offered for sale. A finger joint, even a nail brought a year's wages, Anna's other body parts being afforded only by the powerful and wealthy. Every muscle, sinew, gland was esteemed worthy of great value. Several fights erupted among eager bidders when pride or small purses forced a loss of purchase.

It was during this time that an attendant returned with Anna's pelt, neatly trimmed and preserved by a rapid tanning process. He handed it, bowing, to Asotos. "Your Graciousness, as you have requested."

Returning to Ilaniya, he thrust it at her. "Take this! It's my gift to you, worth more than a king's ransom."

Ilaniya vehemently shook her head. "I will not!"

Angrily shoving it into the woman's hands, he snarled, "You take it or I'll have my surgeon remove yours and sew this on in its place! Do it, Bitch!"

Her hands shaking, Ilaniya took it, shedding a torrent of tears upon the pelt she held.

Asotos stood tall, hands reaching toward the sky, grinning, "See, she weeps with the joy of a maiden after receiving her first manly gift!"

The crowd roared its approval.

Soon it was back to business. After the crushing removal of Anna's nose and the tearing away of her ears, the surgeon began the time-consuming and delicate process of scalping and skinning his victim. He was extremely careful, not wishing to damage the material goods. Asotos desired a fine jacket be made of this, something he wanted finished before Anna lost her awareness of what was going on. The crowd relished the professional, expert way he succeeded. In slightly over an hour, an attendant was hurrying it away to the tanner.

'Living flesh'... How else could one describe Anna's physical state? She was now a skinned, living carcass being kept alive by the most advanced medical equipment available to the people of the League of Brothers. That is what this once greatest flower of beauty had been reduced to, a machine of flesh that contained a brain for thinking and a heart for living...oh, yes, and nerves for feeling. With all their medical technology, they could keep Anna alive and conscious for days, possibly weeks. It had been done before and for lesser reasons.

Shouting again to the people, Asotos cried, "Now to the feasting!" Once more the crowd went wild with excitement while he motioned to the surgeon and his attendants.

For the next three hours, Anna's flesh was cleaved from her bones, being cut and sliced, and served up roasted to the highest bidder. By the end of the night, there was little more than a bloody skeleton sustaining only enough flesh and sinew to keep the bones together. Except for the nerves which had been meticulously preserved down to the tiniest of fibers, little remained of this tortured creature. Later, after her final breath some days from now, Anna's body would be cut up into small parts and auctioned off to the highest bidders or sent as gifts to distinguished fellows in Asotos' kingdom.

Two oversized orbs protruded from a bony skull held up by chin straps tied to the derrick, its garish grin accusingly smiling its sordid approval for the evil done. Asotos hurled one insult after another at this living skeleton which was once his lover, deriding her. "Your beauty is now beyond compare! What a wonder to behold. Look! Look and see! This is the real person you are...traitor to all living things. Your mother you forsook for a falacious love that was burned away long ago. This was your end I promised you should you step your foot across my threshold. Did you think I would forget that day when you squealed on my activities and then helped rescue your sister from my clutches? I warned you then, but you did not listen. You did not believe me. Be damned! Forever damned!"

Anna's eyes stared blankly forward, there being no muscles remaining to control their movement. Asotos stared back, his agitation growing by the second. Finally, in a rage, he took a surgeon's tool and drove it into one of Anna's eyes. "There!" he screamed, "You will not glare at me that way and escape my wrath!"

Except for the machine monitoring Anna's brain waves, which spiked high indicating great pain, there was no other physical movement or reaction. How could there be? All that remained of a living machine was a beating heart and diaphragm involuntarily pulling life-sustaining air into tired lungs. Only a medical monitor revealed that Anna's soul still struggled for life, that a brain still thought and hurt. Did she still have feelings for Asotos? Did she now understand the man he really was? No one could tell. Those secrets remained locked within a silent chamber, her one remaining eye staring blankly into space.

Asotos stepped from the platform, waving to his admirers as he did. He motioned Ilaniya to follow, telling his bodyguards to remain behind. Still clutching Anna's pelt, Ilaniya hobbled along behind him.

After passing through double doors, Asotos took a tunnel leading to the left and up an iron staircase without railings to a landing some eighteen feet above the granite floor. Ilaniya had just stepped onto the landing when Asotos spun around and, with a flagellum grabbed from a corner post, struck the woman a crushing blow across her face.

Ilaniya yelped in surprise and agony as pieces of bone and jagged metal ends of the whip tore into her, ripping away chunks of skin and flesh.

"You bitch! No good fucking bitch!" Asotos screamed, pummeling her with another and then another blow, grunting with each strike. "How dare you humiliate me! I'll skin you myself, but won't be as gentle as I've been with that whore!"

Ilaniya crashed to the floor, doubling her knees up under herself and wrapping her arms around her head. It did little good. Asotos flailed on, shredding her uniform and tearing away her skin. She let out a scream, but there was no one to give rescue for there was no one around to hear. Even if there was, no one would come to her aid. She began to cry out once more, just as Asotos brought the flagellum across her face again in a smashing blow. Broken teeth and bloody pieces of her tongue were ripped from a ruined mouth, her cheek torn from lip to molar.

After his arm grew tired, Asotos tossed away the flagellum and started kicking and punching Ilaniya, all the while keeping up with his vile insults and threats. Soon the woman laid there, little more than a mass of bloody pulp.

Asotos stopped, heaving with exhaustion. He studied his handiwork and then laughingly mocked, "There, Bitch! You'll be more respectful of me tomorrow."

Ilaniya's fingers twitched, but there was no other movement.

"Bitch!" Asotos shouted, "Get up, ya hear?! Get up, Bitch!" but she remained motionless.

Suddenly it occurred to Asotos that Ilaniya might be dead. Looking around at the bloody mess, he knew his servants would realize what had happened. He must put on a pretense for the public. With a heaving grunt, he kicked the woman off the uppermost landing and down the stairs.

Ilaniya crashed on the edge of the lower landing, crushing several ribs. Her body flipped over the side, spinning downward another nine feet, smashing face down onto the granite cobblestones.

Asotos slowly retraced his steps back down the stairs. At least now he could claim that she had fallen to her death. It would be a good enough excuse for the people. No one would question it. Why, he could even claim that she was so overtaken by grief that she took her own life, Asotos unable to stop her. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he stepped over to Ilaniya's crumpled body, glaring down at her.

Suddenly Ilaniya coughed and turned a ruined face toward Asotos. An eye opened, glancing into his eyes, and then it closed. Asotos blinked in surprise. At that instant, a ghostly white haze began rising out of Ilaniya's tormented body, gathering in density and height until it took on the shape of some sort of shadow-demon.

Asotos watched, dumbfounded, as two fiery eyes formed in the misty shape while a glowing, fog-like appendage extended itself in his direction. And then, as if this thing had opened its mouth to bring the gale, a bone-chilling breeze swept the chamber, covering everything in a frosty layer of white ice.

The apparition's eyes grew hot with anger, a voice from deep within it roaring, "My patience with you has ended! No more will I hold back the winds for the sake of any living soul. My daughters you have murdered, the very children I produced in my manliness to give you pleasure. There is no word left for you. Dead you are and dead you shall remain. There is no hope left! No hope!"

It then pointed down at Ilaniya, declaring, "This child is not yours to keep, for a great king will bring her down in his own hour. Be afraid, for as she lives so does your kingdom. Know that when her soul does pass beyond your grasp all your glory is soon to follow. This is my daughter, born of my flesh. I shall not take kindly to her further torture! Your skin in place of hers I will make it if you touch this child ever again! In the day you strike her in your anger, know for a certainty that your final hour has come near!"

With mournful groans and thunderous cracking noises, the iron stairway began shattering into pieces, falling all around. Asotos cowered in dread, trying to protect himself from the brittle shards. When all was quiet, he looked around to see no one there other than Ilaniya lying as she had fallen. Then he heard the sound of running footsteps approaching. By the time assistance arrived, the air was again warm and the frost dissipated.

Coming to his senses, Asotos ordered a medical team, on the double, for his captain had a very unfortunate accident. "Bring me the best team we have! I must save this child before she expires. Oh, hurry with her rescue! Hurry!"

Refusing any medical help for himself, but feigning loving concern for Ilaniya, Asotos remained close as doctors used their medical expertise to help preserve the woman alive, waiting outside the operating room until the medical staff assured him that the woman would survive. Then, in the wee hours of the morning, he quietly entered the patient's room just to make sure he was being spoken to truthfully.

Later that day, when repair crews were working, cleaning up the rubble from the fallen staircase, a worker noticed a charred pelt which turned to ashes when he attempted to retrieve it.

(Author's note _: Ilaniya remembers that night. Through the fog of hazy consciousness she remembers. So much she recalls, but not through her eyes. Some other creature experienced that night of terror, she merely a spectator, seeing through the windows of its glassy orbs. Still she remembers...remembers while the doctors hurried to keep her flesh alive, remembers while they struggled to mend torn and punctured lungs, feverishly removing shattered ribs from a broken body, remembers the surgeries to rebuild a ruined face, crushed pelvis and...remembers while they repaired the hundreds of mutilations and disfigurements. Yes, the woman remembers._

And Ilaniya remembers something else so strange and puzzling. She can recall Asotos' daily arrival as he quietly entered her chamber. She recalls his whispers to the orderlies. She recalls seeing his silent concern as he stood by her bed.

And she recalls something else. It was in his eyes, something concealed from all but her, for he could not hide it from this woman because she was its creator. Yes...yes, for sure she saw it. It never ended, not after her recovery and return to her duties...never. For all the days Ilaniya survived in that wretched land, it hid behind Asotos' eyes, a disquieting unease, uncertainty of some sort, a fear of not knowing for sure. That was what Ilaniya saw but could never understand...not from him, the self-proclaimed 'Lord God' of this universe. But it was there, ever hiding behind his gaze.

For Asotos, too, he saw something in Ilaniya that troubled him. No one in his world revealed it so blatantly as she did. He could not understand it, but it was there, not allowing him rest or giving him a feeling of security. It changed him concerning her. She was to keep to herself in the darkening hours of night, not serving him in the waking moments of early day unless summoned. She was to keep her distance when he was not alert, and he must now always remain alert when she was near, never finding himself alone in her presence.

Yes, Asotos saw, too, and was secretly troubled. At first he thought it was only resignation, believing a fate like Anna's was a real possibility for her, but, no! No, that was not it. It was a resigned fearlessness. The woman no longer cared for life or death. Asotos had lost his hold on the woman. Ilaniya's spirit no longer concerned itself over what he could do to her. But Asotos' twisted mind was unable to conceive such truths as innocent and self-preserving. Selfishness was the only motive he any longer understood. It must be selfishness driving the heart of this woman, but he could not tell what selfish motive she might be harboring. Was she seeking sweet revenge for imagined atrocities? Was her passive silence merely a cover while she waited for the right moment to return all the favors he had heaped upon her? Would she selfishly surrender her flesh to destroy his? It was the one question he could not discover answer to by peering into Ilaniya's opaque, expressionless eyes.

And now Asotos could never dismiss the woman from his service....for not only his fear, fear of her secreting herself into a position to bring her revenge, but also his pride. He had bragged to too many of his lieutenants about this pet of his, how he had stolen her from the one who truly loved her, how he would break her and make her publicly denounce her mother. He could never release the woman now, in life or death. Oh how he desired her demise, to be rid of her! But her death would scream out his defeat, his inability to break her. She must keep living and he, as his hatred for her grew, must be the one defending her soul from death.

Yes, Ilaniya remembers, and what she did not recall she heard whispered in the halls and in the passageways, in the quiet streets, and from those gathered in the hidden shadows. A silent dread began growing among the children of the League of Brothers, a collective fear that this one act of bringing justice upon Anna for her wicked deeds was beyond absolution, that the very spirits of the underworld, those mythical beings born before Time, in ages lost, had tired of the games these people played, had tired of duties to keep the universe in check, in balance. The hour of Fate no longer stood aloof and uncaring. Time was waked, and it cared little for what it saw.

Asotos did not know it, could not grasp it, never realized it, and only much later did the reality and import of that moment gather itself into Ilaniya's conscious mind. And in that moment when she understood, her soul felt its release, its freedom. Yes, in her final breath, at a future time, Ilaniya smiled, realizing that it mattered little what the Fates chose for her. She was no longer a slave in Asotos' house.

As the warrior turned poet and historian so soundly put it, "In that day, on the hour Anna breathed her last, a collective despair rose among the people of Gog's horde. Deep inside each living soul, the hands of Fate had released the pendulum of time. Gradian's Clock breathed anew, filled again with vengeful purpose. Each heart knew it, but no tongue dared speak it. Jericho's walls stood solid and firm, but for how long? The universe was doomed to the whims of a boy not yet a man. His fickle will would either finish all things or renew all things. The Fates promised it and would not be denied. Death and life were but one heartbeat apart, showing no partiality to might, power, or glory. 'So, shall the sparrow decide which cat will delight in its flesh?'")

Early afternoon of the third day found Asotos hurrying into the Judicial Coliseum. He had visited the tortured Anna the day before as well, enjoying spewing his little rants and curses at her expressionless face, mocking her disfigurement and continued agony, citing the woman's evil, treacherous deeds as excuse for such justified punishment. It had given him so much pleasure to watch the graph on the machine monitoring Anna's brain spike upward, indicating intense pain when an electric charge would pass through her body, or some other cruel device was applied to raw, exposed nerves that Asotos would laugh in ridicule.

Oh, but today was to be his day of triumph over this wicked traitor! Under his arm, Asotos carried a bundle just delivered from the tailor. What fun he would have today, showing off his new, finely crafted jacket. 'She will be so impressed!' Asotos smiled, thinking to himself. 'Oh the pleasure I will have seeing her reaction to just how much I think of that whore!'

At length, Asotos made his way down to the arena floor. Several hundred people were milling about the coliseum, there always being some sort of festivities going on here. From vendors selling drugs to merchants offering goods and favors, to some legal matter being settled, to some brutal jousting, there was always something to draw a lurid heart. Asotos noted that besides these other activities there were also several dozen observers gathered about the center of the arena floor, an exceedingly large group for this time of day. Well, why not? Anna was a celebrity of sorts. It wasn't that often that someone of such renown graced this sordid world with their presence.

When spying Asotos, the judicial administrator hustled to greet him. Rubbing his hands with satisfaction, his eyes beaming with pleasure, the administrator approached, offering salutations. "My Lord, Chrusion, they work so well...the new machines, I mean." The administrator politely bowed, smiling. "We have been able to maximize the woman's pain and at the same time prolong her life... indefinitely, I believe."

Asotos grinned, congratulating the man. He heartily slapped him on the arm and, with his hand resting on the fellow's shoulder, strode across the arena.

The complex machinery was truly impressive to behold. This was the zenith of technical know-how, the culmination of centuries of study and research into the physical, mental, and emotional makeup of Erithia's children. Thousands of years of laborious effort may well be ready to pay off.

"See!" The administrator stepped up on to the platform, nervously pointing toward an array of dials and gages. "We've done it! We've done it!" He looked at Asotos, half stuttering in excitement. "It's...it's...not...not the Eden Stones, but who could...could duplicate that witchery? But we're close...real close!"

Asotos nodded approvingly, studying the gages, smiling as he proclaimed, "We will find them. She cannot have destroyed them, for they are as immortal as her Cherubs, and her flooding downpours have only hidden some of them from view for now. Soon my followers below will gather the remaining ones together, and then..." His smile faded as he cursed, "The Eden Stones will become mine again. She cannot hide them forever."

The administrator anxiously replied, "Yes. Yes, Lord Chrusion...er...my brother. We will rebuild the laboratories again, just like before the ruination of the land. We were so close! So close! But we're so close again! Look! Look!"

Asotos stepped onto the platform, casting a glance in the direction of the bony person impaled and manacled before turning his full attention to the medical team busy at their stations. "So," he asked inquisitively, "tell me, my brother, what have you really accomplished that we have not yet seen?"

The man grinned, resting his hand on a machine like a proud father with a favorite child. "My L...er, brother, the keeping alive of the flesh is too easily accomplished. A hand or foot, even a heart, any body part is no major task for us to preserve alive." He snapped his fingers. "Easy!" Then he frowned. "It is the soul, that hidden part of living matter that has defied our grasp...that is until now. You see, to keep the conscious person alive, the mind must display a willingness to remain within the body. That has always been our defeat. No matter how skilled we have become at keeping the body alive," he motioned toward Anna, "when the mind...the spirit tires of the game, it will abandon the body, seeking more peaceful harbors to escape the torments of the moment."

He leaned closer to Asotos, beaming, "I think we've done it...broken the code that allows the mind to escape! I believe we can take hold of the mind's will and make it stay trapped within the living flesh of the person until we choose to release it, or until the flesh itself can no longer support life...something we have long ago mastered."

Asotos rubbed his chin, knowing what this meant, but he desired to hear it directly. He asked, "So what do you really mean by what you're saying?"

"I mean...I mean..." The man looked at Anna and then his inventions and back at Asotos. "I mean that we can keep a person alive for as long as we wish. And soon, with the more advanced equipment being developed in the laboratories..." he pointed down toward the subterranean levels of the coliseum, "we will be able to sustain that life with just the possession of the brain."

Asotos' brow furrowed, feigning concern for the more noble things in life, asking, "How does this bring value to the Brotherhood? How can this be used for the cause?"

"Oh... oh... my... brother..." The man showed a faint tinge of growing nervousness, realizing that he must also deliver the reason in order to carry on this pretense for such evil. "Well, you see, all of our experiments have really been to assist our brothers who have been severely damaged on the field of battle. All this..." he swept his arm toward the machines, indicating that current accomplishments were being included, "this has all been done for them, to save from possible oblivion the souls of our kindred brothers, giving the doctors time to mend broken bodies."

Asotos smiled approvingly.

"Of course...of course" the man explained, "it also helps to satisfy justice, and it is a way we can make the punishment better fit the crime."

Asotos looked past the man, staring at the gages, smiling to himself as words slipped from his mouth. "Hell on Earth. No, Hell wherever I wish it to be. They will all obey me in life or forever be repaid by me in a living torment!"

Getting Asotos' attention again, the man explained, "See these many graphs...see? Each one is monitoring a different part of that creature's brain. One is showing conscious thought processes, this one displays fear, that pain, that anxiety, that..." On and on he went, describing everything happening in Anna's brain. When finished, he concluded, "Notice that there is no indication of a reduction in brain function. It's as sharp now as when the judicial punishment began three days ago." He grinned in satisfaction. "The creature's level of pain doesn't diminish... never becomes dull over time, ever. A year from now it will be suffering as greatly as its beginning hours. All the processes that allow the mind to reduce the tortures have been halted. The mind can never escape its prison bonds as long as the brain lives."

Pleased, Asotos asked, "So, is my darling still able to see and hear?"

Smiling with pleasure, the man reassured Asotos it was so. "The added drugs make it hyper-sensitive. The accused may well be able to hear us even now, as we speak."

"Good! Good!" Asotos patted the administrator on his shoulder. "If you are as successful as you say, then there will be a grand reward waiting for you and your team of assistants."

He looked up, slamming a fist into an opened hand while declaring, "The witch cannot win just because she has stolen my dream powers. She will suffer! Her daughters will wish they had never been born!"

Remembering the main reason for this day's visit, Asotos excused himself, mentioning his desire to speak with the prisoner. He stepped up close to Anna, sneering, "Well hello, Sunshine. Just another day, a very long day I suppose for you. But time does fly when you're not just hanging around," he taunted. Then, while tugging at the bundle, he bantered on. "I wanted to liven up your day some, you know, break up a dull routine." He smirked. "Well, as soon as this was delivered, I so much desired you to see it, it being one of your fondest wishes, you know, to wrap yourself around me and keep me warm." With a tug, Asotos pulled a finely crafted leather jacket from the package, a glove falling to the platform floor.

He held up the jacket. "Isn't it beautiful?" he asked admiringly while examining it closely. "Yes, yes, I do think it will keep me warm on those cool days." Snapping his head around and locking his stare on Anna's one eye, he glowered, "Much warmer than it ever kept me when you wore it as your own!" Stepping close, face to face, Asotos mocked with contempt, "So, my darling, do you think I still love you?!"

Suddenly, a technician let out a howl of surprise, seeing the gages monitoring Anna's brain waves go off the chart as the machine exploded in fiery clouds of smoke. At that same instant, a reeking, nauseating breath erupted from Anna's mouth, hitting Asotos in the face just as he inhaled.

Asotos stumbled backward, dropping the things in his hands, dizzying sickness sending him reeling. Staggering to maintain his balance, the confused man looked, stupefied, into Anna's face. She was staring at him. He could see it. Her stare was cursing him.

Then, from a mouth with no vocal cords or tongue came deep guttural sounds that crashed upon Asotos' ears with deafening rebuke. " _PatroosOrgeDidaiosRaah!"_ (lit. 'My Father, let me purchase your righteous wrath for my one good eye!')

A sudden, violent wind shattered the upper windows along the southern concourse of the Judicial Coliseum, its tornado-like energy scattering debris in every direction. From the midst of this howling tempest came the screeching of a banshee's cry. " _A'marN'um A'marN'um 'Arak 'Arak 'AwenNasa!"_ (lit. 'By oaths given shall sin be repurchased'.)

Instantly, the wind vanished. Still reeling from his dizzying sickness, Asotos turned his attention back to Anna. During the commotion, straps holding her head up had broken so that the woman's bony skull fell heavy upon her chest. A glance at the machines told Asotos that Anna was now dead. His angry threats were cut short when he observed a look of growing terror on people's faces.

It started like a low growl in the center of the planet and grew until the entire building trembled with the fury of deep quaking, erupting into such violent shaking that the people were unable to stand. Tables toppled while equipment crashed to the floor. People screamed out in fear and distress. Walls cracked and buckled, twisting the building's roof supports into crazy corkscrews. In one concussive rush, the entire center dome collapsed into the arena, crushing everything under its weight.

Asotos tumbled into an opening made when the floor splintered under his feet, saving him from death as a giant support fell above him. Looking up from the darkness, he watched as the coliseum collapsed around him, the quake growing more violent by the second. With a renting moan, the entire center of the arena buckled, sending Anna's body along with the mobile platform and the surviving prison staff as well as many of Asotos' closest officers and personal body guard cascading into the dark abyss below.

Clutching his tiny island of shattered timber, Asotos trembled at the chaos surrounding him. Little could he see above him, but shrieks and cries for help convinced him that violence rode a pretty wind up there as well. At that moment, another part of the dome fell, scattering its debris across the ruined arena, pummeling Asotos with jagged stones and splintered wood. He managed to escape with only minor cuts and bruises. How, he did not know.

The quaking eased and then stopped. A choking dust lay heavy upon the air, so thick it was nearly impossible to see. Quickly coming to his senses, Asotos began crying for help. At first there was no reply, but momentarily someone called out his name, asking him where he was. In a few minutes, an officer was climbing down to him with a rope.

No sooner had he been tied into a harness than a new and more frightening sound filled his ears. The quake had apparently ruptured the huge fuel storage tanks deep in the bowels of the coliseum and the numerous fires had ignited it. Now, like an angry river, the flaming froth was flooding the lower galleries, explosions of volatile materials and screams of helpless victims harkening its rapid approach.

"We must hurry!" The officer shouted to a dazed Asotos. Dumbly nodding, he held the rope as the two worked their way up to other rescuers. He was no sooner free than a violent explosion shook the building, followed by another and another. Geysers of liquid fire burst through ragged openings left by the quake, consuming everything in their reach.

Those few able to move were scattering in every direction to escape a horrid death. "Run!" screamed the officer assisting Asotos. "Leave the others and save yourselves!" There was soon a little group of half a dozen frantic men, dodging this way and that, retreating from the raging inferno. Few gathered at the coliseum that day other than the tiny group that managed that Herculean feat, most of the others there vanishing in fire and smoke.

It took weeks for the fires to subside enough for searchers to return to the destroyed coliseum. Little remained but remnants of shattered outer walls. Much to Asotos' dismay, nothing still existed of the laboratory machines invented by the prison administrator and his medical team or their plans. What had been written down burned in the blazes or dissolved when the administrator's mind departed into the mist of nothingness, he being a very secretive man.

Never would Asotos be able to threaten Lowenah's worlds with his hideous mind control gadgets. Never again would he attain the glory of imprisoning the mind, it being a ring held always beyond his reach. No, never would he look into the hope of achieving immortal power. The Cherubs had seen to that.

(Author's note: _The execution of Anna had not been some secret ritual of murder, but was publicly broadcast on open channels of communication. Of course, the fiery destruction of the Coliseum and those final effects were kept hidden from all but Asotos' closely trusted lieutenants. Still, from a strategic standpoint, it proved a big blunder on Asotos' part, a dilemma created by his own unbending pride._

Anna had done him no evil, she being his most faithful of accomplices, being thwarted by forces beyond her control. And the business regarding Mihai's long-ago attack? It was contrived from the beginning, Asotos calculating Anna's loyalty to her little sister would force her to do what she did. Truth be said, Asotos had tired of Anna long before the Rebellion, just as he had tired of all things decent. He had used her, all the while his hatred for her growing by the day. Why? Because she truly did love Mihai and, in her warped and twisted way, reconciled her feelings for both Mihai and Asotos such that, she believed, they could be made harmonious again.

_Indeed, it was this real love for her younger sister that tricked Mihai into revealing her innermost secrets to Anna. Mihai was trusting but not naive. Anna's love, though_ _twisted, was real enough to allow her entrance into her sister's greatest secrets, secrets she then shared with Asotos. Anna's feelings for Mihai began disintegrating after she saw the coming war as unstoppable and conclusive. She saw then that there would never be a reconciliation and it gradually drove her mad - her sanity only returning during the final moments of her life._

_Was she evil? Was she hopelessly wicked? Did the woman deserve a second chance, or even to be gifted having her life cut short by the Cherubs? I wish not to be a judge in such a matter. For a man who has soaked the worlds of men and angels in the blood of countless victims, can I really stand aloof in my righteousness, declaring who is good or bad or which person deserves to live or die? Truly, each man is a victim either of his own wantonness, pride or desire. All men who have died, died for a reason, and it is in the court of the Cherubs that their eventuality is examined._ )

Section 25:

"Shadows and Dreams"

"Good afternoon, Colonel Patch." Gabrielle saluted her new wing commander as she exited Starlight's ramp and then stepped forward to hug and kiss her little sister.

Embarrassed, Sirion returned the salutation. "Er...Admiral SodasonieGabrielle..." She nervously stepped back and returned the salute. "Wing Commander SirionSandevar requesting permission to board, Admiral."

Gabrielle laughed, "Sodasonie...Sodasonie...? Do you know how long it's been since I've been called that? Thank you. Maybe I should reacquaint myself with using it again. Sodasonie..." she smiled, "It gives me pleasant memories." She took Sirion's hand, requesting she stand aside with her as the remainder of Starlight's crew was welcomed aboard.

As others were being greeted, Zadar slid up next to Sirion, slipping his arm around her waist, softly whispering endeaments that only she could hear. Sirion giggled and squeezed his hand. "So, is my little brother on a new scent this soon, one, I must add, he has little more than whiffed on the breeze in such a long time?"

Zadar pretended surprise, quietly answering, "My dear sister, is that all that I've become in your eyes, an unaffectionate cad seeking primal gratification?"

Sirion grinned, squeezing his hand again. "It's been a long journey from EdenEsonbar and lonely, too, for rare is the stag on that ship full of does. It was _my_ primal gratification that I was intent upon satisfying."

Zadar's eyes met Sirion's. He said nothing. Then, glancing at the new uniform she had only received a few hours before joining up with the fleet, it having been delivered by courier with papers confirming her new position, he changed the subject. "Wing Commander...Old Iron Pants...looks to me like you've put yourself in a real pickle. You won't have any friends now...stags or does."

Sirion turned and examined Zadar's crisp new duds, whispering back, "Didn't do so well yourself, either, did you? Can't find any darlings now that you're a fleet captain?"

Zadar frowned, hiding a smirk. "Not the case at all, not at all. Doesn't take much these days, you know. In fact, I recall one day overhearing a famous or infamous '14' pilot saying that all it takes to get a promotion around here is live long enough. It ain't ability, it's _availability_."

Sirion replied, "We both may well live to regret this if that's the case. Do they have someone already picked out for your job? I imagine they have a whole list for mine, the way I've been lately."

Nodding, Zadar added so seriously, "I think it's the cook...you know, the way he keeps eyeing me when I'm in the mess."

Gabrielle interrupted their conversation as General Treston arrived, accompanied on either side and behind by Alynnou and Clarion. Taking his arm after delivering a tender kiss, Gabrielle and Treston strolled along as the others followed them from the hangar into the corridor and to the elevator. Waiting for the machine to arrive, she turned, taking both of Treston's hands, asking, "I have report that your stay here is brief and that your troop departs for MueoPoros very soon. Is that really so?"

Raising an eyebrow, Treston answered, curious, "Admiral, that's not quite true. Starlight must be fueled and supplied first. Then I will have to wait for my escort to arrive. I hear that IronStone has been reassigned to that duty. To answer your question, no, we will be here at least into the late evening, possibly longer."

"Good!" Gabrielle smiled, "Then we will have a little time for additional conversation. I also hoped you and the others of your party would dine with me tonight."

She turned to Zadar. "Captain, would you be kind enough to find some quarters for our other guests so they can freshen up and relax a bit? Then will you show our wing commander to her new officer's quarters? General TheraponTreston and I have some business to attend to. We will see you at dinner."

Zadar bowed politely. "As you wish, Admiral." He motioned the others to come with him. As they departed, he leaned close to Sirion, whispering, "I know where there is a primal den available for your use, that is if you don't mind a little detour before fulfilling the admiral's request."

Sirion blushed, smiling, "I will trust to your judgment if it helps me become better acquainted with the new fleet captain."

Zadar smiled, saying it would.

As the others departed, Gabrielle offered, "Would the fine general wish to retire with me to the admiral's stateroom, a much quieter and informal location for some discussion, and to wile away a few well-deserved hours of rest before dinner?"

Treston blushed, feeling that Gabrielle's proposal included more than just discussion. He glanced down the corridor at Zadar, wondering what kind of hidden powers the Cherubs had given him. Gabrielle was beaming, her smoky gray eyes sparkling so brightly. Oh yes, she was still very sick. He had heard of her recent stroke, but there was something new about her, something he hadn't seen on his last visit. She was a witch, he knew, and her bewitching powers were becoming evident again. Zadar had managed to reawaken the woman hiding behind the smoky gray windows of her soul.

Treston's heart jumped with erotic excitement, causing him to momentarily forget Alynnou and Clarion. He bowed his head, a little embarrassed. "I am your humble servant, my Lady. How can Tolohe, the Queen of Fantasy, delight in a mortal's company?"

Gabrielle asked, surprised, "Where have you come by such a term to describe me?"

Treston smiled, reminding her, "My Lady, was PalaHar not my teacher and mentor for many months? He also called you 'Keeper of the Crystal Skies', smiling when I asked him to explain its meaning, saying I must seek you out to gain full understanding. Your reputation is also well known among my kind gathered to this realm. Your sisters' dream shares are filled with whispering rumors of the mysterious enchantress who was once called 'Daughter of the Hoarfrost'. They, too, seek to learn the reasons why your sisters swoon when recalling tales of your love-making with the men of this world."

Gabrielle kissed Treston. "Many are the women who have shared your bed in this world and the one below, yet your ardor grows strong for myth and fantasy, stories concerning my witchcraft of long ago." She paused, pondering what Treston's words really implied, then sighed. "Thank you for having faith in me. My powers have diminished, my strength waned and my sickness increased, but a witch is always a witch. If you are willing, I shall attempt to live up to some of my renown. The glory of my mother may still smolder in the shadows of my soul."

The elevator doors opened. Arm in arm, Gabrielle and Treston entered. Gabrielle's eyes were filled with sad wonder as she pondered just how different these men from the Lower Realms were from her own brothers born to this world so long ago. To them she was not a diseased cripple, but 'Princess Divine'. Her thoughts flashed to the coming lord of these men. Would he feel the same way? She hoped...she believed...she wanted so badly to believe...

* * *

Hand in hand, Darla and Ardon quietly strolled down the meandering trail leading from Tashi's grave, both caught up in their own memories. In the distance, the sound of machinery could be heard as work crews scurried to ready a new base for Darla's Wildcatter Navy and Special Forces. Even from here one could see the damaging effects on this tranquil land, forest clearings, hastily dug roads leading off to crystal and ore mines, and roughly built lodges and storage buildings for the busy workers and their needed supplies.

Ardon was glum. He scanned the horizon, sighing, "It's not that I regret seeing this world torn up so, it's the reason for it. I did eventually plan on sharing this wonderland I created with others one day, and I knew there would have to be roads and buildings constructed, much nicer ones, of course, than what are being built now, but for war? Never did it cross my mind, even after the Rebellion began."

He faced Darla, staring into her eyes. "There were so many things I didn't see, didn't want to see. I sat on my ass for thousands of years, extolling the virtues of diplomacy, believing that somehow diplomacy was going to bring us real success, that the fighting was only a necessary evil until everyone returned to their senses. Mother warned me, all of us on the council, that it could not be, but we, I being one of the most vocal, continued to beat the drums of peace through diplomacy and negotiation. And during all the time that I believed that I, the great statesman, was securing the safety of the Empire, you and others like you were pouring your blood out on the horrid fields of slaughter so that people like me could continue to sit on our asses and extol our virtuous wisdom."

Darla began to interrupt, vehemently disagreeing. Ardon stopped her, placing a finger to her lips. "No...no, my Sweet Queen, I speak facts and truths. You have taught me that. I understand now, oh so clearly now, that this war will never be won through any form of diplomacy. This world, my world, has become so infected with the cancer of wickedness that it, too, must pass away. A new world must rise from the ashes of the old... burned, clean, purified ashes. It is that new world that people like me, like Anna, and even Mihai have so long resisted. PalaHar saw it afar off and his counsel was scorned because of it. But for people like him and like you who saw so clearly those facts, and those who willingly surrendered their own souls to buy us time for such reality to sink in, there would be no Children's Empire or hope remaining."

Darla wanted to speak, but Ardon resisted. "Please, Lovely One, allow me this moment for my heart may never have opportunity again to express in words what I need so badly for you to hear."

Darla promised to be silent.

"In the weeks recently passed, you have opened up your heart to me, showing me some of the terrible things that torture your soul. Never, in all my many days of life, could I have imagined one person able to endure such horrors and still maintain any sanity whatsoever, and yet you also carried Mihai's demon within your breasts for all those many days. No one is there, in this world or the next, who will be found of stronger will and fortitude. And I as much as called you 'cracked' in front of the entire assembly, both at the last great gathering and at the Council of Eighty. What a fool I was... no, still am." He raised his hand, reminding her to remain silent. "Until the day that I, too, can stand tall with the pride of a knowing warrior, I shall remain a fool, only seeing reality through such a beautiful mind as yours."

Darla reminded Ardon of his battle with Salak. Ardon refused to accept Darla's argument. "That Jebbson fellow saved our bacon that day. I only did what he recommended. Now, he's a real warrior. I watched his eyes when we went after Salak. They sparkled with excitement. His voice is deceiving, making you think he's carrying on some casual conversation. All the while he's calculating...calculating what to do next and how best to do in his opponent. He always knows what he's at, the reason for this war and why it must be won. I'd like to be like him, brave as him, smart like him. Someday...maybe someday I will be."

Darla smiled sadly while tenderly stroking Ardon's face, her eyes telling him it was her turn to speak. "My Lord Ardon, do not think it heroic to murder your brother and sister."

Ardon argued, "I spoke not of murder! In war, people must d..."

Putting her fingers to his lips, Darla reminded him that it was her turn to speak. "War is waged on many levels, all of which are cruel and evil. Think not that your diplomacy was placid and harmless. Many thousands of lives have been wasted because the evils of diplomacy worked their way through the system of war. Yet it has often been by diplomacy that lives have been rescued from certain death, just as through murderous violence have many lives been saved. The prisoner exchange saved the lives of several of my brothers and sisters but, had there been no chance of a diplomatic exchange, would Asotos have wasted his time capturing those people in the first place?"

She gently pushed a finger against Ardon's chest. "I spoke, though, of murder. Murder, my love, is what I do, have done these many years. Oh, not the Stasis Pirates...they have no souls remaining, they being only living flesh. But what of the others? Do not your own philosophical leanings present the question, 'Have those who joined against Lowenah in the Rebellion really lost their souls?' Then for the question, my Sweet One, if the soul has not, itself, departed the flesh, then do I not murder a living child of my own mother?"

Darla looked away as if suddenly studying the earthen path in front of her. At length she continued, "I do not wish to murder anyone, but if it is so or not, it matters little to me. To win this war, to drive Asotos from these realms, to bring an end to these evil days, the enemy must die, justly or no. Then I say to you, it is not heroic to bring to a finish a living soul, counting that as brave. It is the willingness to live forever with the knowledge that you are able to murder someone who is possibly still deserving of life in order to accomplish a greater good and accepting the consequences of such acts that is heroic.

"Does that mean that I feel heroic?" Darla looked back into Ardon's face, her eyes revealing the pain of endless wars. "No. I feel dirty, unclean, filthy...that is, in my heart. My mind rationalizes all that I have done, justifying my actions, calling me guiltless. But I know better. I know I am also evil because of the passionate thrill I experience when my enemy's blood spatters upon my flesh. I exhilarate in the madness of the battlefield. The gore and destruction excite my spirit and flesh to nearly orgasmic proportions. No, think me no hero, for I fear that it is for selfish gratification that I stand upon the torrid field of honor."

Darla refused to allow Ardon's response. "My Love, please, it is my turn to confess all wantonness. Do you know that I have drunk the blood of my fellow man? Yes, yes, it's true. It was by accident, or so the situation that led up to it was.

"It was long ago, when the wars were still contained, small and deliberate, short-lived and often fought for a single cause. There I was, in heated contest over a gate, a worthless gate. I gored a man in the throat with my pike and his blood gushed into my face, my mouth open. I gasped, at first, swallowing reflexively...at first. To my surprise, it tasted sweet, like some hot, sticky candy. I swallowed again, this time seeking the lingering flavor that haunted my tongue.

"Oh, I have never taken to the drinking of it, in hunger or pleasure, but I have tasted it several more times when in battle, almost craving the moment when it would spatter upon my tongue. And yes, what you have been told about Anna is true, at least the part about my puncturing a vein to spit in her face, but the rest? I savored her flavor, it exciting me with its teasing romance. I hate that woman, she getting less than deserved in her demise, but in that single bite I found that I had made love to her, at least sensually, it exciting my flesh so passionately."

She took Ardon's hands, confessing, "I sleep soundly in your arms because you are innocent of the murders I have committed in my lust and self-pleasure. You make me feel clean for an hour, a night. With you I can believe that Mother can one day look at her little child and not see the rivers of blood that her child has shed. You...you are already my hero. What you do for me is heroic. Your innocence makes me feel innocent. Please, don't seek out the murder of another to see if what I speak is truth or not. Remain, for me, the innocent and carefree philosopher, always wondering and never knowing for sure."

At that moment, voices of people approaching interrupted further conversation. Darla and Ardon peered down the trail, waiting to see who was coming. It was not long before they caught sight of Jebbson and Planetee cavorting like two lovers unaware of their being observed.

Darla whispered, the two not having seen her and Ardon yet, "That Jebbson fellow shares my passion for war but he has found peace with his past, and the present is seen by him as a holy duty. How I wish his dreams could be mine, to make war holy and righteous in my heart."

Ardon squeezed Darla's hand, also whispering his reply. "You are wrong to think the way you do. This war is holy, as have been all the ones we have fought. Jebbson sees correctly, but why shouldn't he? I and the other cruel and miscreant, self-righteous bigots have riddled you with guilt, implying war was a folly, a stopgap until our diplomacy won the day. You, my Love, are holy and Mother sees you as such. I know. She told me. Indeed, as I so pointedly learned after the Council of Eighty, her fondness for you... no, her deep love for you was revealed to me in not so uncertain terms. You are a hero to her, she wishing all her children would be like you."

Darla would have none of that, but Ardon was adamant. "Do not think yourself evil! I know that a crown is reserved for you... heard it from Mihai herself. She said it was told her by Mother that you were to stand in great power and glory with the immortals themselves, the Cherubs becoming your brothers. It's true! As I live, I am telling you this with knowledge and wisdom. And what's more, I think it's a very wise decision on Mother's part to have it done."

Planetee noticed them first, cautioning Jebbson concerning his romantic overtures, not that it embarrassed her, but fearing some of Garlock's quaint, old-fashioned ways might make him feel that way. It didn't, but his old view of proper decorum and the lingering thoughts that his romance with a woman was private for the two of them made him desist, he promising this was only an interruption of their sweet interlude. At length, they made their way up the knoll to Darla and Ardon.

After offering proper greetings, Ardon informed Jebbson and Planetee, "We leave by the evening hour," he looked around, smiling,"though I guess that means by evening hour, Palace Time, there never having been an evening here."

Jebbson grinned. "The commodore general here has promised me another week to gather the crystal specimens I need. Then we shall hurry back to EdenEsonbar with my... er, your wonderful rocks. I will have a lot of work to do... you know, analyzing everything. By the by, thank you so much for allowing us to tear up your planet so. Sorry about the mess. We'll try to have it cleaned up a bit before you return."

Ardon raised an eyebrow, asking suspiciously, "What is this 'we' business? I recall that you were to take YaugKinsChangee back to EdenEsonbar while your lady-friend, the commodore general here, was to join the fleet at MueoPoros with the new carrier R'oxanah."

Planetee spoke up, her eyes twinkling, "No, Commodore Elect Ardon, you misunderstood or I wasn't clear...whichever. Admiral SthukaaChonbae will be delivering R'oxanah to the Second Fleet by way of MueoPoros, making the enemy think it's being added there. The carrier is to become his flagship for the time being. I'm returning with the dear major here to EdenEsonbar via the cruiser MingdolPassion, the brigantine YaugKinsChangee, and cutters Lorineal and Sibyl accompanying us. There I will linger..." she stole a glance toward Jebbson, "until the major has completed his test results concerning the shakedown cruise of our newest carrier fleet additions."

She shrugged, "Then, I will have to decide what to do. My plans to return to MueoPoros have been put on hold with the latest news of enemy activity...news that recently arrived via Sibyl this very morning seeing that no communication exists other than by courier or transport in this place. For the moment, I see no need to leave Marine Headquarters on EdenEsonbar until the enemy decides our next move."

Ardon acknowledged Planetee's revelations, but still couldn't help chide Jebbson over the convenient circumstances that prolonged his and the commodore general's time together. Still, he was troubled over Darla's guilt regarding war and death. Risking her disapproval, he diplomatically raised the issue with Jebbson.

Jebbson, having shared many dreams with Darla, knew well the woman's mind and emotions concerning the matter. Speaking with understanding, he answered, "My friend, please allow this one account from my life and its explanation to provide you with insight into the question you raise.

"It was a warm, early summer day back then, the kind of day that makes you feel glad you're alive... I mean really alive. Well, my troop of fellow Rangers and I had just come off two weeks of hard riding along the upper Colorado and were making our way back to Austin along the San Saba watershed, a tributary of that Colorado River. All along the way we had seen burned-out camps and homesteads, hearing reports of murders and abductions of settlers there. To say our dander was up for a fight would be to put it mildly. We were out for blood, didn't matter whose as long as they were 'Redskins'...what we called the local aboriginal people back then.

"Sometime in the forenoon, we came across a small Comanche village that was hidden below a shallow rise near the river. They were lazying around, like most people do on one of those kinds of days, and never saw us until we were right on top of 'em. There were over two dozen of us, all on horses and packin' at least two six-shot revolvers. I carried three. It was over in less than five minutes, more than thirty of 'em dead. Most of the rest who fled were run down and dispatched."

Jebbson looked down and sighed. "Well, I did my part. Kil't two in the camp and then rode after the escapees. I caught up with one down at the edge of the river. Riding up fast, I drew up short, my gun drawn. There was a man, dead, half in and half out of the water. Next to him I see this girl, maybe eleven or twelve, down on her knees with her arms around the man's neck. Must've been her father. She looked up at me, tears streaming down her face. I'll never forget that look."

"What happened?" Ardon asked, suspense growing on his question.

Jebbson hesitated, slowly answering, "I shot her...right between the eyes. She never felt a thing, the force of the bullet knocking her back and into the water. The girl never even twitched."

He hurried on before an aghast Ardon could reply. "A few seconds later, one of the other Rangers rode up and, seeing what I'd done, gave me a real dressin' down, telling me that he wanted that child to have some funnin' with and I spoilt it for him. I didn't say anything to him, but I felt real good she was dead, knowin' what him and some of the others would have put her through."

Releasing Planetee's hand, Jebbson began to gesture, explaining, "You see, I didn't hate the girl...didn't want to make her suffer, not like some of my fellows did. Why, they didn't even see her as human, just some piece of meat to satisfy their animal instinct with. To me, she was the enemy and needed to be gotten rid of if we was to win what we came to call the 'Indian Wars'."

He sadly shook his head. "I remained with the Rangers until early fall. In the meantime, I helped another half dozen people surrender to the evils of that world. Men, women, and children I killed... no murdered 'em, I did." He looked up at Darla. "I left the Rangers, but not because I tired of the killing. I never liked the killing from the start, but believed it necessary. It wasn't the warring that forced me out. It was the attitude of some of the men I rode with. There were lots of other girls I didn't get the chance to murder, and I'm filled with remorse that I failed them. But most of all, I feel remorse over the little girl I murdered that early summer day."

He turned to Ardon. "I went east... Ohio. Met up with some old college friends and sort a' hung around there, wasting my life till the Big War sucked me into it, and there I oversaw the death of hundreds of more young souls. Oh yeah, in the meantime, before the war, I got married. Wife died in childbirth. Took to the beer hall ladies for a time. Went back West for awhile, shantied up with a Cheyenne woman and her teenage daughter. Loved 'em both. Woman died of the fever and the daughter ran off with a cavalry officer. I hunted him down on the plains and no one ever knew what happened to him. He wasn't fit to live, anyway. I still feel that way. Oh, the daughter? She'd already run off on him, too. Beat her pretty bad, I was told."

Jebbson stroked his golden beard, smiling. "Went back to Dakota Territory, shortly after the Big War...the War Between the States. Heard from the woman's family that soon after I'd departed for Ohio, the daughter came lookin' for me, saying I was father to her newborn child. If that's true, and I believe it's so, then it's the only blood kin offspring I ever had that lived. Who knows? If she'd found me before I left, I'd stayed with her, I know it, and then, well, maybe I'd never found a way to make it here."

He shrugged, "I got off my tune. Sorry." He grinned humorlessly, "Guess I had to tell you that I never was a saint...still not. But I don't feel guilty over the things I've done." He stared Darla in the eyes. "That's because I didn't do anything to feel guilty for. That's right, you hafta know it's wrong to feel guilty, otherwise it's remorse. The two smell the same, but are different flowers."

Jebbson reached out and took Darla's hand. "My Lady, I do know the troubling dreams you have tried to hide from me." He shook his head. "But you can not conceal such secrets from a fellow patient. I know too well the symptoms of the disease. Look, sometimes you will do something that gnaws at you for the longest time. It may change you and you can't figure out why. Adaya, I fight this war not because I believe the enemy must be destroyed, which I do believe it must. It's because that little girl has haunted my dreams for all these many years." He smiled, "And you know why? Because I loved her..."

Ardon interrupted, astonished. "What?!"

"Yes," Jebbson did not shift his gaze from Darla. "I fell in love with her the moment I saw the girl look up at me. There was something in her eyes that told me, or at least I wanted to think told me that, had circumstances been different, if we had met at a different time and place, she and I... well, it's only nonsense anyway.

"Look, I have been filled with regret over that child for a long time... at least measured by me. Still, my regret is that I had to kill her. There was no other choice. If the circumstances were the same, I'd do it again. And I wouldn't feel guilty over it, either. My remorse is that it had to happen. And I'll never know now if there would have been something special between us."

He squeezed Darla's hand. "You know what I'd really like to be able to do? If I could, I'd like to be there to personally welcome her back. Oh, I know she'll be back someday, and her father, too. I'd sort a' like to just be there to let her know how remorseful I really was... am. I'd like to be the one to make it right with her." He shook his head. "But I'm here now. Another somebody will get to do that.

"Honey," he said to Darla, "if any of them bad guys deserve any kind of a return, you'll be here to set things right in your head about them. You can fix up any feelings that trouble you over this long war. Remember, it was them who chose the wrong side. Who knows, maybe cutting their lives short saved 'em from a fate far worse than what you provided. Possibly that Cherub fellow of yours...the one you got so friendly with in your dreams before you returned to us on Shikkeron...maybe he's used you to save some of his children." Jebbson smiled wistfully, "Maybe one of them fellows used me to save that girl from a far worse fate."

Darla leaned forward, kissing Jebbson on the cheek, embracing him. After a moment she stepped back, still holding his hand, tears growing in her eyes. "You do not appear that person of grand renown who you have so often told me about from the stories of younger days, but you certainly are my Lancelot come to rescue me. My friend, my Cherub is a wonderful man, but he is no more so than you. Let us both dream for the same future and see our wishes fulfilled."

Jebbson agreed. "Honey, to feel remorse, it means that we're still human, that our souls remain in tune with the Web of the Minds, that we care, that we still love. You and me, we're like that. I have to believe it's so with you to be able to believe it's so with me."

Darla nodded agreement, her tears having become many. "And I feel the same as you. Our souls are one in this regard."

The shriek from Shikkeron's whistle brought an abrupt end to matters. Ardon glanced at his timepiece, frowning. "How the moment escapes when we wish to linger." He looked at Darla. "I can check on current business if you would like to stay a while longer."

Darla shook her head. "No, thank you, I must see to some matters myself. They cannot be relegated to another." She kissed Jebbson again, reaching up and stroking his face. "You are my soul mate, you know, I will always love you in so many ways. Someday...someday may all our wishes become reality."

She and Ardon hurried away, waving goodbye, Jebbson and Planetee waving in return until they had disappeared beyond the rise.

* * *

Mihai's sleep was escaping her again this night, her vivid dreams of Anna's torture never surrendering to other, more peaceful dreams. The visual images openly broadcast by Asotos in hopes they would instill fear had done just the opposite to Lowenah's faithful children. Already the chant, "No more surrender!" was being heard on many a battlefield, fueled by a new ferocity growing within the hearts of wearied warriors. But for Mihai it was different, heartrending, the woman unable to shake the long emotional relationship she had with her once close confidant and lover.

Yet it was more... Mihai was seeing a new kind of savagery emerging among her own brothers and sisters, a savagery unmatched for its wild abandon. Two days after Anna's execution, a guerrilla force on Pilneser captured an enemy compound, burning alive any survivors and taking no prisoners. Symeon left behind a note, skewered to the skull of the commander, "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. A ruin I shall make it!"

On Avery, a riotous mob tore down the gates of a prison compound and slaughtered nine hundred enemy officers and enlisted, screaming, "For Queen Anna! This is for our Queen!" And the fervency over Anna's murder was only increasing, troubling Mihai all the more.

Other than those who judged Anna guilty, the people knew nothing of the woman's treachery, Mihai keeping her promise to speak not of it. Asotos, trumping up charges to execute vengeance on Anna, had only perpetuated the notion that Anna had been captured and murdered by him because of her loyalty to the cause. General Tabitha Copeland put it so succinctly, "The pigeons have come home to roost." Asotos could not reveal the true reason for his actions for fear it would weaken the trust his people had in him, showing them his real nature. So now he must silently suffer the consequences... consequences that would hasten the demise of his empire. Anna's murder by torture now guaranteed it.

At length, Mihai could take no more. She sought escape in the darkness of the night outside the city, and only by his masterful persuasion did Paul manage to journey in her company.

It was early morning, the sun still sleeping far below the distant hills when the two arrived at the entrance of the Silent Tombs. After passing through the iron gates, Mihai turned to Paul pleading, the strain of events telling on her words, "Please, my Faith and Hope, allow me this hour alone. I need the moment to find myself, a child lost in the wilderness." She peered into the darkness. "My soul seeks knowledge that will provide solace for my heart, and it knows not what it is. But it must be out there, somewhere. It is where I've lost it." She looked back and into Paul's eyes. "I don't know if I will find it tonight, but I must try."

Paul nodded, speaking not a word. Turning away, she took her leave, departing down the path that led to hidden questions and desperate hope. But she did not travel alone, for in the darkness walked the ghosts of Christmas Future. Tonight was not one for her to seek total solace and those spirits saw to it that it was not to happen.

By the time the sun cast its first radiant beams of light above the mountains, Mihai had journeyed far into the heart of this 'land of hope', a place where she could search for those lost but not forgotten. About a mile past the gated entrance, rolling hillocks gave way to a large expanse of flat, sandy fields. Once covered with beechnut and twisted, shagmore hickory groves, there was now only the occasional sycamore or hemlock to be found, transplants placed to complement the somber solace that lurked here. Upon this broad plain, the Memorial of Remembrance wound, snakelike through grassy fields, two giant hemlocks anchoring its ends.

Begun by Lowenah shortly after the First Megiddo War as a memorial tower for those fallen heroes whose bodies were never gathered back to these tombs, it became a great wall, its two wings sweeping to the east and west of the royal purple amethyst tower that anchored them in the middle. Uncountable were the names, Mihai believing that over a million were now engraved on it. Still, in Lowenah's wisdom, there were many sections of the wall that remained void of any inscriptions, she knowing that before this war ended, so many more of her sons and daughters would find remembrance here.

In her witchery, Lowenah had made the wall magic, as if something within it lived. As Mihai wandered along beside it, her hand gently touching the carved names in passing, when her fingers found someone dear to her, her head would fill with delightful memories from long-forgotten days, bringing with them a wistful sadness accompanied by a soothing hope for a troubled heart. It was by coming to this wall that Mihai had so often found solace and peace, knowing that these children's futures were secure in the fact that Mother had set them here. "Like gems in a crown..." she once said to Mihai.

Euroaquilo's booming voice shouted into Mihai's head when she chanced upon his name in the darkness. Avdiel...the memory of his sweet love titillated her senses as she fondled the letters of his name. Ehleenohr Kalahnit's wise counsel filled the woman's heart with warning to always be cautious when in a strange land. And then there was Tzidohn. His outrageous tales of adventure were most humorous.

These, as well as other haunting memories from so many lost lovers, flooded Mihai's thoughts with yearnings for future days when, once again, she would share such recollections face to face, and have even more adventures with these same loved ones. Tears began to trickle down the girl's face, quickly followed by quiet sobs, as painful hope swelled in her heart. "One day...one day soon... May it be soon." Mihai choked between her sobs. This was so good for her heart to remember such things.

The orange-red of the sun's first rays was just breaking over the distant mountains as Mihai reached the end of the western wall. With it came a sudden gust of gritty wind, picking up the dusty sand in a twirling vengeance, driving it into the woman's face. Mihai stumbled backward, her hands protecting her eyes. Down she fell, the scolding wind tearing at her exposed flesh. In one last gasp, she cried out in desperation, begging for help from the blinding, choking tempest.

Instantly, the cyclone died, the dust gradually settling to the ground. Coughing up dirt and spittle, Mihai clawed her way toward the wall, hoping to use it to regain her footing. Drawing close to the shadowy form, she stretched her hand out, touching it with her fingers. To the woman's surprise, they came to rest on the sharp edges of a newly cut surface. 'Strange...' Her fingers probed the recesses of the chiseled stone as a rush of long-forgotten memories flooded Mihai's mind, putting it in a twirl.

There she was, so long ago, just turned twenty and newly released from the servitude of her virgin years. She was now a free woman, able to choose her intimate companions. Standing before her was a woman with black satin hair, mesmerizing brown eyes, and glistening, olive-colored skin. The woman's voice had the sound of a siren's haunting call, its hypnotizing melody as intoxicating to the heart as wine is to the palate.

The woman reached out, cupping Mihai's face in her hands, cooing, "A man's love is fine for the soul, but a woman's can reveal secrets unbounded. Come...come with me this eve, now, into the hills beyond, and I will give you the maiden's dream. Then you will see...then you will feel the Song of Songs. Then you will, your sisters' love, crave and desire all the more."

She took Mihai's hand. "Come" she urged, "my lovely child of morning. Come with your sister, Anna, and see if all the whispering tales you have heard are not so."

Mihai, her fingers still caressing the inscription on the wall, lowered her head and wept.

* * *

Allow me to sum up Anna's life and demise through the words of RosMismar, the greatest of the Cherubs:

"Forever is a very long time to pay the price for foolishness."

* * *

