The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix (21 page)

Jonathan turned his gaze upon the procession
of wagons and mounted travelers, carefully studying them. Looking
back at Jebbson, he began, “This is such a queer world… so queer.
These people travel in giant ships across endless expanses of space
to strange and exotic planets in star systems so distant an
ordinary telescope cannot see them. They have machines that think
and serve them in ways the servants of my day served their masters.
They have fast wagons that quietly float above the surface of the
ground, and weapons that can destroy the enemy many leagues away.
And, yet, here I see these people, on a very serious quest, riding
upon horses and carrying weapons of swords, axes and arrows. Suits
of armor a thousand years old they cover themselves with, beasts of
burden pulling giant wagons that float above the ground, horse
maidens, campfires and torches, and the like.”

He sighed. “These people carry on with
saintly processions of serious sobriety followed by bouts of
unbridled emotion filled with intoxicated merriment and unchecked
flirtations. They blush red with the revealing of the slightest of
innocent naivete while openly practicing intimate conjugal acts
beside the heavily traveled thoroughfare.”

“What is it with these people? I do not
understand them at all. Look at them. They love the past so much
they refuse to see the present. I have read their history, the
history of these wars. Their captains lead from the front, surely
to be killed in battle. They charge the most fortified of positions
with sword and pike, facing missiles and bombs as they would a
helmed knight. Their chariots of steel race through the skies
above, raining down destruction while they butcher one another with
axe and blade on the horrid fields below.” He shook his head sadly.
“Knowledge does not make for wisdom. Indeed, should a people refuse
to change, how will they survive?”

Jebbson patted Jonathan on the arm. “That,
Captain, is the reason we have come here.” He looked into
Jonathan’s face. “We, the Children of the Damned, seek what is
always new when it comes to killing our foes. The newest and the
best, that’s what we do, obtain the newest and the best. We glory
in the extermination of our enemy on the field, wishing for none of
them to have a returning home. Why, our history shows that we
murder the sick and wounded upon the field, and then butcher the
camp followers accompanying the enemy host, and then destroy their
cities and ruin their people as best we can when there remain no
defenders to protect them. Yes sir, Captain, we practice at war
differently than our brethren do in this world.”

He grinned garishly. “Oh yes, these people
have devised hideous ways to exterminate their fellows, and torture
is all too common, primarily in the enemy camp, but deep within
their hearts they detest the violence, even some of the enemy do, I
believe. On the other hand, our kind
revels
in destruction.
Our righteous indignation permits us to commit the most abhorrent
and unspeakable atrocities upon anyone we call our enemy. Rape,
pillage, torture, and murder are what is meted out upon those who
have offended us.”

Looking about at the surrounding troop, he
wryly commented, “We have been delivered here by the Maker of the
universe to convert this world to a new religion, a religion that
glorifies war, making it holy and acceptable. We are to teach these
people how to revere the murder and destruction that we hold so
sacred.”

He turned his gaze and stared into
Jonathan’s eyes, his smile having fled from his face. “We must rape
and pillage… destroy the hearts and spirits of this childlike lot,
pervert them to our way of thinking. Forever will innocence be gone
from this world, at least for these people. A shadow of darkness
sweeps over this universe even now, a darkness that shall never
fully be removed. We - you and me, and the others of our kind
brought to this wretched place - are the goblins and demons who
will forever haunt this puerile world, continually reminding it
that by evil was evil destroyed, and that by evil immortalized does
the universe eternally remain at peace.”

Jonathan did not fully grasp the extent to
which Jebbson confessed, but he did understand enough to nod his
head in agreement. It saddened him to think that he, too, was
delivered to this place not to speak of peace and love, but to
bring about violent destruction, something he had been spared from
doing up to this time.

Jebbson leaned forward and patted his mount.
“Yes sir, this here Prisoner Exchange ain’t what it’s all talked up
to be: to exchange prisoners and all, and get our hostages
back.”

He grinned, angry. “Oh, we’ll get ‘em back,
all right - those still alive. I bet they’ve had quite a time of
it, not like the cushy life Salak and his crew has had of it.
Legion and that fat little girly-man of his, Godenn, wouldn’t allow
such
fun things
to pass their attention by, been workin’
those poor bastards since the Zephath was taken, I imagine.” His
steely blue eyes narrowed as his face hardened. “No sir, I know
exactly where this show’s a goin’. Today’s a new day, Captain, and
I intend to welcome it with a little appropriate celebration of my
own.”

Surprised, Jonathan queried, “What are you
up to? Our king, Mihai, runs this show, and she cautioned us to act
civil and keep our place. Let the experienced councilors negotiate
for the prisoners. We’re here to learn, to see how it’s done.”

Jebbson nodded. “That’s right, we’re here to
learn, do the learning, I mean. Gonna be a lot ‘a lessons learnt
this day, a lot ‘a lessons taught. That ol’ snake’s gonna be put on
notice that he ain’t dealing with those who ascribe to the pen and
handshake. He’s gonna learn that this new breed of chil’en sign
their agreements in blood, their opponents’ blood.”

Taken aback, Jonathan stared into Jebbson’s
face, seeing the man’s stolid determination. ‘Strange, so
strange...’ He thought to himself. In his world of old, a king’s
command would have gone unquestioned, there being no debate
whatsoever concerning its wisdom or valor. And the histories he had
studied of his own kind supported that to have been the case for
the greater part of man’s existence. But this Jebbson fellow was
born into a world so different from any that had come before, so
different that it created a race of men boldly stubborn, arrogant,
independent, and… and freedom-loving, who would chance to defy even
the ruling king of this universe should their freedom be
threatened.

Jonathan puzzled. He was well learned in the
history of this nation of Jebbson’s that based its political
beliefs upon the right of the individual, creating a bill of rights
and set of laws that allowed its citizens to depose their ruler by
voting him out of power. The stories of the savagery and tenacity
that drove the people of that new nation to conquer a continent
from one ocean to another amazed him, and this done not by a giant
army led by some outstanding captain, but by the sheer willpower of
the masses as they pushed ever westward into their new world.

Much to his enjoyment, Jonathan had absorbed
himself in the studies of this period of time in man’s history,
this one nation in particular. The thought of a civil war being
fought over the right to choose one’s own destiny, and to free the
souls of strangers enslaved to cruel taskmasters was almost
overwhelming, but to be staring into the face of a man who had been
part of that movement, who charged into the jaws of death merely
because he believed it the right thing to do… well, that was
entirely a different matter.

A shudder ran down Jonathan’s back. The race
of men Jebbson encapsulated took pride in their explosive
independence almost to its becoming a madness. They were as wild as
the new land they explored, and as proud of their recklessness as
his own people had been of their refined culture. Books and tales
of this race of people were amazing enough, but to observe someone
who lived there, and believed in that kind of freedom… well,
Jonathan just did not have words for it.

When comment was ever made regarding this
lot, Lowenah always remained silent concerning the wild,
independent spirit displayed, a spirit that often bordered upon
being rude. Jonathan had occasioned to meet a few others from that
strange land of Jebbson’s. They all acted like they carried a chip
on their shoulder, had a right to, and were proud of it. Sometimes
their actions were offensive to him, what with all the
peacock
struttin’
around they did. He never figured out why such crass,
even uncouth characters were delivered here, other than to test
everyone’s patience.

Now, he sat his horse only an arm’s length
away from one of these
wild
people. He liked Jebbson a lot,
always had. Jebbson was full of a contagious energy that made him
naturally likable, but he also carried a dark side to him that
could chill the bones. Yet, as much as Jonathan enjoyed Jebbson’s
carefree side, it was the darkness he felt coming from the man’s
heart that drew him to the fellow, making him wish, in a little
way, that he had been born and raised in his world, filled with
violence, risk, and… and freedom.

Freedom? Was it a disease brought upon
fallen men? No. What was it, then? When smitten with it, a person
would willingly die to keep it. He recalled the tales of Ishtar as
told him by some of the older men who witnessed the girl’s actions
in the arena at Ephesus. Freedom...what a wonderful and terrible
thing it must be to feel it and live it the way that Jebbson fellow
did! In a way, Jonathan wished that he, too, could, for just a
moment feel it, to breathe its intoxicating elixir so that he could
sit a free man in his own heart, become the fearless commander of
his own destiny.

Growing impatient with Jonathan’s pondering
silence, Jebbson piped in, grinning, “All right, old fellow, you’ve
wasted the moment in too deep a thought, or your brain slipped a
gear and you’re spinnin’ in neutral. What’s the question twirlin’
‘bout in your head?”

Shaken from his inner thoughts, it took
Jonathan a moment to recall what he wished to ask. Meanwhile,
Jebbson playfully chided him for such memory loss.

Finally he recalled, and after giving
Jebbson severe chastisement for his inconsiderate remarks, asked,
“All those grand things you may say about it being a new day and
all might well be true. Still… we are supposed to be attired in the
finery of statesmen, not going to some kind of a
hoedown
or
shindig
. What is this with you? You look no more the part of
on a diplomatic mission than a Cretan, a royal senator. You were on
the Council if you recall, and should act the part… as our king
requested.” He shook his head. “Look at you, wearing clothes from
some forgotten time and place and from a world that no longer
exists. Then you cloak yourself in that gray cape as though to hide
your appearance because of embarrassment. I know you’re not that
out of touch. You’re too smart to do such things. What’s up with
you, and why no protective armor?”

Jebbson roared with laughter, tipping his
head back as he exclaimed in question, “So that’s all troubling a
great mind the likes of yours?!”

Waiting for no reply, he looked Jonathan in
the eye, grinning while answering, “What one wears on the outside
means nothing compared to what clothes the heart within. Look, old
fellow, you and I… that girl Darla over there, and our new king,
Mihai, take a good look and see that none of us, ‘ceptin’ possibly
me, are comfortable with the duds they’re wearin’. Oh yeah, they
all look the part… that is ‘til some one of them opens their mouth
or moves around.”

He pointed at himself. “Me - you and me - we
don’t fit into this world. We don’t - can’t walk the walk or talk
the talk. Oh yeah, sure, we put on all the garments and read ‘bout
all these peoples’ history, but it ain’t us, not us. You and me are
still stuck in our past, our bringin’ up culture, so to speak,
‘ceptin’, unlike you, who’s always trying to fit in with everyone
up here, I like my past, am proud of it and the things I did. I
lived my life as best I could and have nothing to be ashamed of.
Nothin’!”

Stretching his hand out toward Darla,
Jebbson offered his observation. “Now that girl is the most
uncomfortable person here. Ain’t cuz she’s almost naked. No! Not at
all! Loves being naked, prances ‘round that way most the time when
she ain’t off soldierin’. No, she’s uncomfortable because of the
clothes she’s got on, or I believe that’s the reason. Honest person
she is and doesn’t like to see herself as a
loose woman
,
someone sellin’ her body for another’s pleasure, and that’s how she
feels ‘bout things right now. Least that’s the way I understand it
from watchin’ her body language.”

He then drew Jonathan’s attention toward
Mihai. “And she’s the second most uncomfortable person here,
doesn’t like all that
king
stuff, doesn’t like her new field
marshal… doesn’t trust her I suspect, and doesn’t like what’s
comin’ up down the road. Not ready for this
meetin’ up thing
with that evil brother of hers.”

Looking back at Jonathan, Jebbson added,
“Could say a lot more, but I think you get my point. You have to be
comfortable with your own skin and what’s in it - who you are. I’m
the odd man out this day. You are, too. Difference is, I’m shoutin’
out to the world who I am. No mistakin’ that I’m not from around
here. That old demon will see the fire in my eyes this day and know
I’ve come here to put him and his kind on notice, not the same game
anymore.”

He then pointed at Trisha. “Though that girl
is all duded up in the armor of this world, the observant eye can
tell she ain’t no child of this lost world. She’s come here for a
reason that’s a whole lot different than just retrieving a bunch of
captives. She’s makin’ to be noticed, to put on notice that there’s
a new game in town. She wants the world to know there’s Hell to pay
a comin’ down the road, and she’s gonna be the one deliverin’ the
bill.”