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Authors: William Bernhardt

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BOOK: The Black Sentry
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The crowd cried out—
whether in relief or terror he couldn’t be sure. As the noise of the people died, the voice of the Acolyte soared. “Let this be a lesson to all those who would transgress against the Sentinel. Let this be a warning to all those who would resist him or rebel against his Laws and Ways. Resistance is futile. Repent now, lest you face the unstoppable might of the Silver Sentrymen.”

The Acolyte pointed toward a medium-sized wooden wagon on the floor of t
he Arena.

“Target the wagon.

Again they heard the horrible grinding
and whirring noise as the unnatural man lifted its arm and extended it toward the wagon.

“Destroy it,” the Acolyte sai
d.

An instant later, a stream of blue-colored light burst out of the Silver Sentryman’s hand
. It flew across the Arena directly toward the empty wagon. The instant the light touched the wagon, it burst into flames. In a few moments it was completely incinerated.

Cries rang out from the gallery
. Women screamed. People rose to their feet, clutching their children in their arms.


The Sentinel has given this new Sentryman his own power to fight this holy fight,” the Acolyte continued. “The enemies of the Sentinel will fall before his mighty hand. This is just one Sentryman, but more, hundreds more, will be created and scattered throughout the Sentinel’s great empire.”

The commotion in the gallery continued
. More people rose, some in fear, some in panic. Some ran toward the back exit.

Watching from down below, Daman’
s throat went dry. These monsters must be the new enemy Drake had mentioned. How could the Resistance ever hope to defeat these invincible creatures?

“And now,” the Acolyte said, “the time has come to deal with one particular enemy of the Sentinel.

He gestured, and the Black
Sentry dragged forward the Old Man.

“It is time f
or your day of reckoning–Rico Dandel!”

The Old Man’s surprise was evident.

“Yes,” the Acolyte said, “I know your name. I know everything about you. You and all your traitorous companions in this so-called Resistance. You may wonder how I came by this information. Well, let me tell you then. Your friends gave it to me.”

“It isn’t true,” the Old Man said, but his voice sounded weak and thin.

“Oh, they didn’t give it to me right away, but eventually I was able to persuade them to talk. I know everything about you. Your Resistance is at an end.” He turned back toward the gallery. “And should any other twisted traitors think to rise up against the Sentinel, they will meet their punishment too. At the hand of the Silver Sentryman.”

The Old Man’s eyes
widened. He had undoubtedly expected death, but not to be obliterated by some unholy silver monster.

“Rico Dandel
, you are cut off from the Sentinel and his people. Consider yourself shrouded.” He snapped his fingers and several Sentry lifted the drape and placed it over the Old Man. It covered him completely, from head to foot. The wind blew the cloak back and forth, keeping it in constant motion around his body. He was maneuvered to the raised platform in the floor, presumably so his corpse could dramatically disappear after he was executed.

The Acolyte continued the ceremony, recounting a long list of crimes supposedly committed by the Old Man
. The crimes were more numerous than anyone could possibly commit in a single lifetime. According to Brita, some of them occurred in places hundreds of miles away. It seemed the Old Man had become the scapegoat for any setback the Sentinel had suffered during the past several decades.

At last the time for the completion of the ceremony arrived
. The Acolyte held his hands over the head of the draped Old Man.

“The Sentinel is a good and just Master,” he chanted.

“The Sentinel is a good and just Master,” came the response from the gallery.

“The Laws and Ways of the Sentinel
are good and just.”

“The Laws and Ways of the Sentinel
are good and just.”

“May the guidance of the Sentinel be with you, always.”

“And also with you,” the crowd responded.

“His will be done!” the Acolyte shouted
. On that cue, the evil Silver Sentryman whirred into action. He pivoted, then walked a few heavy steps until he faced the draped figure of the Old Man.

More whirring, and
the Silver Sentryman’s arm rose till it pointed at the Old Man.

A
collective gasp emerged from the gallery as the Acolyte shouted: “
Destroy the Rebel
.”

 

 

 

 

 

24

 

The instant the Acolyte spoke, Daman saw the deadly blue light burst out from the Silver Sentryman’s hand. The instant the light touched the drape, it burst into flames.

Many of t
he villagers in the gallery turned their heads away. It was too terrible to watch. Even if the light did not obliterate the Old Man on contact, the heat of the flames would send him to a tortured, painful death.

Several moments passed in
tears, horror, sadness. Until at last, one voice spoke. The voice of a child, a small boy seated on one of the lowest rows of the gallery. A boy brave enough to lift his eyes and his voice.

“Look!” the boy cried
. “He isn’t there!”

E
very eye in the gallery turned. The Acolyte whirled around, as did the legions of Black Sentry surrounding him.

A
fierce wind had blown the burning drape almost completely off the platform, exposing what lay beneath.

All they could see was a
high-backed chair, one that had been tilted and wedged so that it straddled the hole in the floor and held the drape in place even after the platform was lowered.

The Old Man was gone.

 

*****

 

A few minutes before:

Daman knew they needed to make their move quickly, but the Sentry and the slaves kept a careful eye on him.

“I need more rope,” Xande
r said, addressing the Sentry who had remained. “Please fetch it for me immediately.”

The Sentry
’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I think this would not be a prudent time to leave. The Acolyte might need assistance.”

“The Acolyte will need rope
. These are dangerous criminals. Go!”

The Sentry
drew himself up. “No.”

“I
insist.”

His lip curled
. “I refuse.”

“Very well then
. I guess I’ll just—”

Xander swung ar
ound, his fists clenched like clubs, and hammered the Sentry right in the face. The Sentry fell to his knees. Before he could respond, Xander hit him again, this time at the base of his skull. The Sentryman fell forward onto the floor and stayed there.

Daman’
s jaw dropped. He knew his slave was strong–but he had no idea how strong. All those years performing menial tasks seemed to have given him incredible physical power.

Bri
ta tied and gagged the Sentry while Xander raced toward the two slaves who had remained in the room to operate the pulley.

“I am one of you,”
Xander said. He removed his hood so they could see the bulge over his temple. “And I need your help. Quickly.”

They
did not say anything, but their expressions changed. It was almost as if Xander continued talking to them, persuading them, even though not a word was spoken.

At last, one of them replied
. “We’ll do whatever you ask.”

He couldn’t believe Xander h
ad been so successful so fast, but he didn’t stop to question it. He knew they had precious little time. He climbed up the pulley mechanism till he was close to the ceiling of the antechamber. Xander passed him a tall high-backed chair.

H
e eased the chair beside the Old Man to hold the drape up as Xander lowered the platform. Fortunately, the constant movement of the drape in the wind disguised the substitution. Once the platform was low enough, he wedged the chair over the opening and helped the Old Man off.

“Daman!” the Old Man said
. “Brita! And—”

“His nam
e is Xander, and despite his uniform, he’s with us. We must go.”

The Old Man understood
and followed them out of the room. He noted that the Old Man was able to quickly grasp the situation. He had far more experience running from the Sentinel than the rest of them.

They raced through the corridors as quickl
y as possible. Fortunately, they didn’t encounter anyone. Presumably most people had gone above ground to see the Silver Sentryman in action. Unfortunately, the confusing array of passageways made it difficult to find their way back to the tunnel. They soon became confused. And lost.

“We don’t have time for this,
” Xander said, teeth clenched. “The Acolyte will finish his litany and realize the Old Man has escaped.”

They stood in the middle of a corridor with three choices
—straight ahead, left and right. All the passages were dark and long. There was no way to see what lay ahead other than by trying them.

“I think it’s this way,” Brita said, pointing at the passage to the right.

“I thought it was the left,” Daman offered. “Xander?”

“I haven’t
the slightest idea. But we must do something quickly.”

He knew Xander
was right, but he also knew a wrong choice would make it impossible to escape.

“Fine
. We’ll go my way,” Brita said, tugging them to the right.

Something about
the way she said it rubbed him the wrong way. “What makes you so sure you’re right all the time?”

“We have to try something.”

“Fine. Let’s go my way.”


Don’t be an imbecile.”

“I’m tired of you telling me how stupid I am and how much smarter you are than everyone else.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Xander reminded them.

“He’s correct,” Brita sai
d. “We’ll go right.”

“Left.

“Actually, you’re both wrong
,” a new voice said. “The exit is straight ahead.”

They whirled around and saw
not one but two Black Sentry behind them in the corridor.

“Thought you’d make another escape, is t
hat it, traitor?” The Sentry stared at him with hatred in his eyes. He knew there was no hope of deceiving him. He had heard too much. “You were lucky once. You should have quit while you were ahead.”

The two Sentry
moved toward them.

Xander stepped in front of his companions
. “You three go ahead,” Xander said quietly. “I’ll deal with them, Daman.”

“No
. We won’t leave you.”

“Don’t be foolish
. You must get the Old Man to safety.”

He
bit down on his lower lip. He hated the idea of abandoning Xander. But Xander was right–getting the Old Man back to the Resistance was their top priority now.

Before he coul
d do anything, the two Sentry rushed them. Xander dove, letting loose a savage growl. He leapt into the air sideways and hit both of them broadside. They all clattered to the floor, Xander on top.

He
did not doubt that Xander would defeat them. But it would take time.

“Come on,” Brita urged.

Reluctantly, he followed.

They met no
further interference as they wove their way through the corridors. The Old Man held up well, but his breath was fast and short, and his hand rarely moved from his chest. But he kept moving.

At last
they arrived at the room connected to the tunnel.

“Great,” he
said breathlessly. “Now all we have to do—”

He stopped
. A lock hung on the tunnel hatch. The tunnel was closed to them. And that was the least of their problems.

A
young man blocked their way. He held a huge club, and his expression made it clear he did not intend to let anyone pass. They knew him to be a member of the Black Sentry, even though he was out of uniform.

He was out of uniform for a reason.

It was Mykah.

 

 

 

 

 

25

 

Daman stared at his old friend and saw nothing but hatred in his eyes.

Xander ran
up behind them. It seemed he had dispatched the two Sentry. When he saw Mykah, he slammed to a stop.

“That’s a fine uniform you’re wearing, Xander,”
Mykah said, his lip curled.

Xander made no reply
. He suspected Xander was sizing Mykah up, determining whether he could take him, despite the enormous club.

“You have all transgressed against the Laws and Ways
. You have betrayed the Sentinel.” Mykah peered at Brita through narrow eyes. “And you have betrayed me.”

Brita stepped forward
. “It was necessary, Mykah.”

“Necessary
? Necessary to become a criminal? A traitor? To make a joke out of everything? Including us.”


Mykah...”

“How do you think this makes me look, Brita
? I want a career in the Black Sentry, the defenders of the Sentinel. And my own betrothed openly defies the Laws and Ways.”

“I mea
nt no offense against you.”

“Last night.
” Mykah took a deep breath. “Last night you led me to believe there was some hope. That you cared for me...at least to some small degree.”

Brita made no reply.

“But now I see that was all a ruse. A trick you played. So you could steal something that didn’t belong to you and give it to a slave.”

Brita walked
toward Mykah, stopping when she was but a few feet away from him. Her voice dropped so low he could barely hear what she said. “Mykah...it was not...all...a ruse.”

His head twitched
. “It wasn’t?”


You’re a fine boy. Any girl would be happy...” She paused. “It has nothing to do with you. It’s me. I can’t settle down to a life of dusting the farmhouse and watching the children. I just—I can’t explain it properly.” She shook her head. “I’ve always felt that there was more that I could do. More that I was supposed to do. Until this week, I didn’t know what it was. But now I do.”

“You plan to join
this Resistance?”

She nodded her head.

“I took an oath,” Mykah said. “An oath of allegiance to the Sentinel. I swore that I would enforce his Laws and protect him against his enemies. You’ve befriended the Sentinel’s greatest enemy.”

A
t that instant, they heard a commotion from the Arena—shouting, crying, running. He knew what it meant. The crowd–and the Acolyte–knew the Old Man had not been incinerated.

I
f they were going to escape, they had to go now.

“They’ll be here soon,” Brita said, peering into
Mykah’s eyes. “If they capture us—you know what will happen.”

She moved even closer to him
. His hand brushed through her stunning blonde hair.

“Just answer one question,”
Mykah said. “Last night, when you told me—what you told me. Was that the truth? Or was it another lie? Another trick you played so you could get what you wanted?”

He
could not help but wonder what she had said, but no explanation was forthcoming.

“That was the truth,
Mykah. I meant it. I still do.”

His face
softened. “I’m glad. What I said last night was true also. All I want is what’s best for you.” He lowered his club, still gazing into her eyes. “Go.”


Mykah—”

“Go
. Before I change my mind.” He turned toward Xander. “Do me the favor of clubbing me over the head on your way out.”

A strange request, but
they all understood why he made it.

“Wait!” Brita
ran forward suddenly, threw her arms around Mykah’s neck, and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

A brief smile flickered on
Mykah’s lips. “Quickly, Xander.”

Mykah
closed his eyes and Xander knocked him in the head with the club. Mykah fell to the floor. He probably was not unconscious—Xander had not appeared to put any great effort into his blow—but it would leave a mark sufficient for him to claim he was overcome.

Xander beat
at the lock on the tunnel door but he could not get it open.

The Old Man gazed at the tiny tunnel door
. “I doubt,” the Old Man said softly, “that I could make it through that tunnel in any case.”

Daman knew what that meant
. They would have to take to the streets.

They raced outside
. They were relieved to see that the Black Sentry had not yet surfaced. They ran toward the north wall of the fence at top speed, helping the Old Man along.

As they p
ulled away from the Arena, he saw several Black Sentry platoons cascading out the main entrance. Curiously, however, the Sentry did not race after them. They seemed to collect in the marketplace, falling into a loose formation. He could not imagine their reason for not pursuing, but he was not about to stop and ask, either.

They reached the wall and used the rope with the metal hook to scale it
. They all managed to get over the fence in record time–even the Old Man. After that, they darted toward the north road.

By the time they reached the road, they had
not met a single Black Sentry. They walked for a good while without interference. He thought they were either enormously clever or uncommonly lucky—when he heard the voice.

The voice boomed through the air, rustling branches and frightening birds out of trees
. “
Stop, enemies of the Sentinel
!”

The Old Man gripped hi
s arm tightly.

“What was tha
t?” Xander murmured.

Again the booming voice split the air
. “Your efforts are futile. There is no escape.”

None of them had ever heard such a
thing. The voice seemed unconnected to any person, any body. It seemed to descend from the sky.

Brit
a looked at him. He knew what was in her mind.

It was as if
the Sentinel himself spoke to them.

He
turned to the Old Man. “Have you ever heard anything like that before?”

“I have not
. But I have spoken to others who have. The Acolyte has a Construct that amplifies the voice. Makes it louder.”

“But Construct
s don’t work—”

“You’re wrong
. Constructs do work. But only if the Sentinel wants them to work.”

“Then the Sentinel
—”

“The Sentinel is nowhere near here
. The Acolyte has the device. He’s trying to scare us.”

If so, he
thought, the man is doing a fine job of it. “What can we do?”

“Ignore it
. He’s nowhere near us and neither are his minions. We must hurry.”

They continued running
. They followed the north road and soon crossed another bridge over a wide river. As soon as they had crossed, however, the voice returned.

“Your efforts are futile,” it bellowed
. “You have no hope of escape.”

“Don’t let him disturb you,” the Old Man said
. “He cannot see us. He is not here. There’s nothing he can do.”

“Prepare to suffer the fate that awaits all enemies of the Sentinel,” the voice continued, even louder than before
.

“I
think we should run,” he said.


Yes,” Xander replied. “But where? From what?”

“Defenders of the Sentinel,” the voice boomed, “
engage
!”

At that m
oment, they saw why the Acolyte was so confident they would not escape, even though the Black Sentry had made no effort to pursue them. Ahead on the road, just peeking over the horizon, they spotted a splash of silver glistening in the sunlight.

“Oh, no,” he
whispered.

“We’ve lost,” Xander gasped.

“Not them,” Brita said. “Anything but them.”

On the road before them
, they saw the monstrous Silver Sentrymen.

Three Silver Sentrymen. Heading straight for them.

 

BOOK: The Black Sentry
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