The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix (40 page)

Trisha was down on a knee, assisting Mihai,
while some members of the king’s diplomatic council were helping
Planetee. Barely conscious because of the blinding pain from her
injuries given her by Eutychus when he restrained her, attendants
needed to place Planetee on a litter in order to remove her from
the field. The poor fellow had no intention of hurting Planetee at
all but, in the excitement of the moment, gave his dear friend such
a crushing blow that he dislocated her shoulder and cracked some
ribs. It would be several days before Mihai’s trusted councilor
would be healed enough to return to her duties.

Although he would deeply regret having hurt
Planetee so when report was later delivered to him, for the moment,
Eutychus was giving no never-mind to anyone but Sirion. He could
feel no pulse nor see any fog on his pocket mirror when checking
for a breath. Still refusing to give up hope, he continued to
gently rock Sirion in his arms while singing cheerful little songs
in her ears.

Gently rubbing Mihai’s swollen hand, Trisha
apologized, sadly bemoaning the damage she had done. “My lord and
king, I am so sorry, but did what I had to do. Please forgive your
servant girl for committing this travesty against you. Dastardly
yet are the deeds that must be done this day, and I beg you can
forgive them also. But if that is the case or not, by my hand must
they still be done. I beg your understanding regarding these
matters.”

Asotos was incensed, glaring into Mihai’s
camp at the people sprawled upon the ground. As he contemplated the
current disaster, he stared at the vile
thing
that had
failed to carry out a very simple mission, cursing it in his mind,
‘I will not forget you, evil treacherous thing. Today you
live…tomorrow you will wish you had not. Betrayed my trust once too
often, you have. There is no absolution for the agony you have
fetched me this day! Ruined it all you have! Ruined it all!’

As the realization of the extent of
desolation wrought on his wonderful schemes continued to grow,
Asotos became enraged. Stepping forward, he broke into a frothing
tirade against the miserable creature responsible for destroying
his grand plan. He screamed one abuse after another at her, the
woman paying no attention to him as she assisted Mihai.

With Anna’s aid, Trisha managed to get Mihai
to her feet. She was still in a bit of a daze, needing both women
to hold her to keep from collapsing. While Asotos continued with
his tempestuous verbal assault, Trisha directed the securing of the
camp as well as getting additional aid for Mihai. Before leaving
with their charge, Trisha bowed low to Mihai, calling out loudly to
her, “My king. My lord... Your servant… May the spirit of the
Cherubs go with you...”

Asotos was flabbergasted at seeing this last
antic. Placing his fists on his hips and rocking back on his heels,
he shouted out to Trisha in derision, “Has the court gone mad?!
Does the jester rule the day as high commander of a fool’s
army?”

Trisha slowly turned about, looking Asotos
directly in the eyes, asking, “Are
you
speaking to
me
?”

Asotos laughed sardonically. “Who else but a
twitter-brained joker would not understand? Of course I’m speaking
to you!”

Trisha smiled innocently. “Then it is… I
will accept your offer to conclude this moot with you.”

* * *

The sweet, pungent smell of evergreen mixing
with the musty odor of woodland decay filled Ishtar’s nostrils as
she awoke on the hillock where she had earlier watched the display
of grand armies pass her by. Countless twinkling stars filled the
night sky, providing the little light by which the girl could see.
Was it the same night, or the next, or were a thousand passed by?
This the girl did not know, but she was hungry and curious, a sure
combination to get the child up on her feet to go in search of food
while doing a little exploring.

As she neared the bottom of the mossy slope,
Ishtar noticed the wide plain was overgrown with low bushes,
shrubs, and wiry grasses. This was no land that multitudinous
armies recently marched across. For sure, such a place would be
trampled at the least. But here were endless fields of thorny berry
bushes, brier patches, mustard and lace weed mixed with countless
varieties of wild summer flowers, and tangles of vine-covered scrub
trees. Just how long had the girl slept?

In the world of dreams, a lifetime can be
lived in moments, but Ishtar did not realize this was a dream. At
the girl’s present level of cognition, the thought of vision or
reality was not comprehended. She saw, felt, heard, wondered… and,
and realized all the other wonderful things a child of her youth
and upbringing would realize, and for her that was an important
enough matter. What she was currently experiencing was already
wondrous without pondering whether this world was reality or
fantasy. After all, coupled with her body’s own excited congruence
of physio-psychic melding, there were other fingers dabbling with
their telepathic intrigues.

Ishtar’s journey, starting with a walk down
the moss-covered hillock of this fantasy world, and ending far in
the future with the woman-child standing upon Memphis’ high
battlements, was just beginning. The stage was set, the players
soon to be introduced, but now the girl must decide the trail she
was to take. The first of Destiny’s clues for that were soon to be
revealed in haunting and mysterious ways.

Mossy fingers reached into the overgrown
thickets that appeared to stretch far beyond the ever-darkness.
That same moss soaked up the starlight so that it illuminated the
area in a phosphorescent glow. A ghostly-white mist drifted across
the fields, it catching up that mystical glow as it silently flowed
across those twisting rivers of iridescent green. Not only were
Ishtar’s eyes attracted to this delightful scene, but countless
numbers of dancing fireflies also gathered together above the
glowing lichens.

Choosing the path Ishtar was to take was an
easy matter, her fiery companions revealing deliciously huge
berries hanging from tall thorny bushes, just what was needed for a
hungry palate. Though only a smattering of berries grew close
enough to the trail to be gathered without being scratched by the
long, barbed thorns on the fruited vines, the girl was delighted to
see the trail was lined with the luscious, sweet fruit. Off she
went at a skip, stopping to scoop up a berry or two here and there,
gingerly making her way along from one tiny cluster of the
titillating delights to another.

Does time exist when one is lost in a patch
of the sweetest, most luscious berries ever tasted? Why, does time
even exist in a dream? Whatever might be the case, Ishtar gave no
consideration to time as she diligently scrounged for berries in
the thorny thickets growing along her mossy trail. Further and
further down the twisting path the girl journeyed until, looking
back, aghast, she saw the hillock of glowing moss was now little
more than a tiny rise in a deep ocean of blackness. The inviting,
misty glow from the many other mossy trails and the multitude of
dancing fireflies were missing from the dark shadowy fields. Now
the only mossy luminescence remaining led off toward the immense
woodland, the spires of its tall, majestic trees standing out
forebodingly black against the twinkling night sky.

Ishtar never wandered the woods at night.
Why, she had never gone out alone at night before in her life. What
was she to do, hunker down here until daylight came, or… but wait,
what if daylight never came to this world? What if this was a land
of ever-darkness?

Ishtar looked down the path toward the
distant forest. There were still many berries to be seen in the
glow of the night, and her tongue was still set to enjoy more of
those fruity delights. Besides, the child was a curious soul, more
so than most. She would go a little further for now, to satisfy
that insatiable sweet tooth of hers in the least, and to discover
what lay around the next bend. Maybe then she would decide what to
do, maybe. As her feet set a cautious pace, hundreds of the glowing
bugs danced in the air about her, filling the night sky with their
colorful lights of limitless hues.

The girl was soon so absorbed in gathering
the tasty fruits she failed to notice that the briery hedges were
growing in height and immensity about her. When she finally awoke
to the matter, why, there the trail was now very narrow with
occasional thorny vines sweeping into it. A chill air, carrying
with it the feel of growing resentment, slowly crept in through the
briery hedges crowding close to the path.

Soon all the light was faded away except for
an eerie, bluish glow that surrounded the girl. Wait! Ishtar
gasped. The light was not surrounding her, but was radiating out
from her. She was aglow, the source of all light in this place,
that is except for a few of the firelight bugs that still flitted
about her.

Deciding to retrace her steps in hopes of
finding a different, friendlier, path, Ishtar walked smack into a
tangle of briers blocking the trail. In amazement she stared,
watching as the few remaining open spaces of the road behind were
filling in with brier-covered, hoary vines. As their fingers
reached ever outward in tangled masses, there arose around the girl
an angry, hissing noise. Stepping backward, Ishtar realized the
angry hissing sound surrounded her, it coming from anywhere and
everywhere. The remaining fireflies suddenly darted into the night
sky, scattering in every direction.

That’s the trouble with dreams - you never
can trust them. Deceptive they are, filling your head with
delightful musical fantasies one second and chilling the heart with
bone-numbing terror the next. A dream is fickle, playing to its own
desires. Bad enough it is when a sleeping mind opens random doors
in hidden places to haunt dreaming moments. But when other hands
play games within? Oh, the trouble that brews!

Ishtar had eaten berries to the point of
bursting. A nap was in order, something she had been earlier
considering, but now it appeared a much better idea to hurry along
toward the forest, seeing something was amiss here. As Ishtar
pushed along through a thickening thorny hedge, the ever-growing
hissing was turning into chanting evil words that the distraught
girl understood. “Greedy it is. It is! Eats all our children, it
does. It Does! Eats them all. Now we eats it. Eats it!” Again the
chant was repeated, this time accompanied by sinister laughter that
whistled upon a delicate breeze.

Doubtful concern grew into fearful insight,
and then into abject terror. Ishtar broke into a run, attempting to
escape the suffocating briers that whipped out from the hedge in an
effort to trip or catch her up. Torn and bleeding, the girl ran on,
paying no never-mind to her stinging, hurting injuries.

As tired legs ever hurried her onward,
Ishtar could feel the trail closing in behind, the chanting cries
of the thorny bushes gaining in strength as the other shrubs,
vines, and wild grasses allied themselves to this cause and joined
in the maniacal chorus.

With panting breath and burning lungs, the
torn and bedraggled woman-child continued her flight toward the
deep woods. No longer foreboding to look upon, she yearned for
their protection, never once considering that they, too, might be
allies with the field folk. In the dark, forested wood there might
reside untold dangers, but here the threat to life was certain.
Better it was to trust to the unknown than to perish in the
certain.

As her strength was waning, Ishtar stumbled
upon the last barrier hurriedly being erected to stop her escape.
Mistletoe was quickly weaving itself about tall brambles, blocking
the path. Only a few lonely paces beyond that blockade lay the deep
wood and hoped for safety. Shouting a cry of desperation, Ishtar
charged into the thicket, struggling and fighting with all her
might to break through. With one final grunting heave, the last of
the vines snapped, freeing the girl to make a run for it, the
enraged scrubland flora desperately charging after her, they
quickly catching up.

Just when all hope was lost, two long
spindly limbs reached down and caught the girl up and away to the
forest. Outside the wood, the bushy vines, scrub trees, and every
other sort of the wild plant people ranted on, dismayed over their
loss. The tall forest people angrily retorted, “Go away or we shall
send forth the driven wind against you!” At that, a howling could
be heard, growing deep in the forest. The plant people, cursing
foul oaths against their woodland neighbors, slouched away into the
darkness and back to the safety of the fields beyond.

After the plant people had retreated a
reasonable distance, the giant tree gently set Ishtar down on a
wide, well-worn path that wound its way further into the forest.
Although hurting from her many cuts and bruises, the girl bowed low
to thank the majestic tree for providing her rescue.

The soft needles of the giant hemlock shook
as the tree person unemotionally answered, “I care not good or ill
for you or any other walking creature. It is the wild field person
I detest, always attempting to overgrow my kindred with weed and
vine, smothering those poor souls who live on the edge of my world.
If you are an enemy of theirs, then you must be a friend of mine,
at least for the moment.”

The aged hemlock then warned, “Not all my
kindred may feel the same toward you as I. Many are those who live
deep in the wood that have not witnessed the glorious light of day
or felt the open breeze upon their boughs. They are very jealous of
any creation walking on two or four legs, for their very roots
refuse them freedom. Stubborn, you know. Unable to move about like
you, they become bitter because their universe is very, very,
small. Old they are, yes, old beyond your reckoning, but angry
still because you are so unlike them. Their ways you do not
understand, but your ways they do not want to know at all. They
seek not to gain an understanding with you should they call out for
a moot, but to do you mischief is their desire.”