The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix (64 page)

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The little café was all a’ bustle this
evening, the owner hustling about to wait on his customers in a
timely manner, promising that additional help would soon arrive.
The fellow, a certain JemShoul, after spending several centuries
mining for crystals on distant asteroid fields far out in the
Northern Rim, had decided to take up the occupation of tavern
keeper. Leasing an out of the way place far up the northern
concourse from the Winter Gardens, JemShoul had settled down some
twenty years before to the serving culinary delights along with ale
and hard ciders of his personal making.

Being rather out of the way, Café Jem’s was
usually quiet this time of season, a favorite place for those who
enjoyed good food and drink in a restful atmosphere. Tonight,
though, was far different - different ever since news of the
Prisoner Exchange had reached the ears of the inhabitants of
EdenEsonbar and its surrounding territories. Now was come the
gathering of the birds to the Great Evening Meal, or at least
symbolically so. Few had paid attention when announcement was
earlier made of an upcoming prisoner exchange, fewer cared. But
when news arrived regarding events during this last one? Well,
things appeared different now.

So, so many exchanges there were in the
past, all with similar results, a volley of rebukes and threats
followed by goods passing from the Empire’s hands into the League’s
in exchange for a few half-dead, sometimes dead comrades and
companions. The diplomats would return, waving hands high in
self-adulation, while Asotos ranted over imagined insults, and
everyone would go back about their business until another egregious
act threatened the tenuous peace. Asotos would again capture a few
hapless victims, accusing them of great atrocities, and the
children would gather up more of their precious wealth to buy the
victims back. So it had gone many times.

This exchange had broken the cycle. There
was a certainty in the air that things were different. Just as one
can smell the coming night frost on a chilled, breathless eve, the
news of events carried on the air a message of change, a big
change. Already sojourners from nearby territories and star systems
were arriving at Palace City to await their new king’s return. They
were also eager to learn more about this Field Marshal Trisha and
the strange band of warriors who made such a fool of Asotos. There
was also a great deal of curiosity regarding a certain Darla and
the part she played in all this.

These were the reasons that JemShoul found
himself hustling about so this evening. Not only were the regulars
present in greater numbers, the new arrivals pressed the resources
of all the business in Palace City, including Café Jem’s. Also was
the case that, since so few rooms remained available, many
customers often lingered at tables long after meals were eaten, the
people having no place in particular to go. Jem’s mead and grog was
happily quaffed so one could keep his or her place at the table,
but it did make the crowded tavern tumultuously hectic.

Into this lighthearted mayhem walked a man
newly arrived from a long sojourn in the wild jungles of EthoHule,
far to the south of Palace City. In a booming voice, he announced
his presence, plunging forward to press the flesh and gather hugs
from old friends and lovers.

A grinning Jem rushed over, slapping the man
on the back, shouting above the din, “Apollonius! Apollonius! I
feared your demise, or that maybe the Whispering Sirens of EthoHule
had stolen you away. Good to see you, my friend!”

Apollonius laughed, denying any tryst with
the witches of the jungle, though he’d wished for their company at
times. “They say their loving touch is next to none, and their
beauty worthy of the Immortals. Lo, the creatures found no delight
making me their captive, though I do believe I heard their hypnotic
songs at times, especially after consuming some of the golden
fungus that grew in the jungle’s haunting caves.”

Jem replied humorously, “You’ll find no
fungus here that will give your mind the siren’s call, but the food
and drink is good, the women comely… and looking for such a
handsome man as yourself to walk with them in the Winter Gardens.
You know SuanTorrie? Of course you do. She’s been moping about ever
since you left us. If you wish, I’ll tell her you’ve arrived.”

Apollonius beamed. “Oh, sweet SuanTorrie!
She was my guiding light, teaching me in the ways of your people,
my first love in this world. I remember her pouting kisses the day
I departed. So she’s here?”

“Yep...” Jem answered. “Came in tonight to
give me a hand... Find a seat and I’ll send her over with a sudsy
drink - some of my special brew.”

After thanking Jem, Apollonius worked his
way through the packed room, searching for old friends while
feasting his eyes on the beauty of the many naked women roving
about, several who shot him flirting glances as he passed.
Apollonius’ old Roman world was a wild place, and nakedness was
common, but usually it was slaves or prostitutes that carried on
that way. When a younger man, he had searched out the later to
satisfy his desires, considering love to belong to romantics.

In this world, Apollonius quickly learned
that love was natural to Lowenah’s children, and given the freedom
to express it, he found that it only grew. Many were the women he
had come to love here, each romantic encounter only strengthening
love’s bonds. Oh yes, the dream shares were an added delight, but
there was more. Conjugal interludes no longer satisfied merely the
flesh, but lifted the spirit to new heights, creating a sweet
longing to be again with old lovers.

(Author’s note:
Before the Rebellion,
flirtatious courtship of sorts was long practiced by the children
of the Upper Realms. Sweet interludes of intimate romance were
often preceded by rather lengthy intrigues where a couple might
spend weeks or possibly months and longer in the romancing ritual.
A coy glance might be followed by quiet conversation, later the
holding of the hands while taking a carefree walk along a flowered
lane. Gradually, usually by the suggestive invitation of the woman,
there would come the gentle touch and soft kiss.

In time, if the man had followed the
unwritten rules of courting, long established by this people, the
woman might permit a sensual touch, embrace, or a teasing squeeze.
Of course, the man must maintain a steady stream of poetic prose
filled with words of promised fealty and enduring love and
devotion. Also during this period of time, the woman would play a
teasing game of hard to get, or having possibly lost interest. The
man would then have to double down in his endeavor to gain his
prize. The woman, in turn, would play harder to get, yet seducing
the man with her feminine wiles.

In time, often during one of the many
festivals, or at some unexpected moment, the woman would surrender
the tease and give up her love to her suitor, the two promising
enduring devotion to each other. After consummating their vows of
devotion, the couple might escape into a lonely place to spend time
alone together. Possibly eons might pass before they would reunite
with civilization, often living a monogamous relationship during
that time.

This did not mean that during such a
courtship either party would avoid other lovers and companions.
Still, the game of ‘chase and run away’ was played to the full, the
emotion of the heart lived to the extreme. Passion denied when at
its height leads to untold, sweet frustration. But oh how wonderful
when its dreams become reality!

By the time the wild men from the Lower
Realms arrived, the many years of rebellion had change this
courting custom, love making being a much more hurried affair than
in the past. This was only exacerbated by the anxious disposition
of the children from the Realms Below. These men made love
aggressively and with a passion rarely experienced by the women
from the Upper Realms. As gossip spread in regards to their manly
prowess, curious intrigue grew among the female host to the point
of the men being searched out, the roe chasing the buck so to
speak.

There were few of those men entered this
Upper World in the days before the King’s War. The few who had
arrived were well known and highly sought after by the curious and
wanting of the women in that land. So it was, the night Apollonius
arrived back in Palace City, that flirtatious eyes follow the man
as he made his way among the people in the crowded tavern.
)

With those thoughts on his mind, Apollonius
searched the tavern with aching anticipation in hopes of seeing
SuanTorrie flitting about the room. As his eyes probed the shadowy
corners and distant crannies, he spied an old acquaintance sitting
alone in a tiny booth, the fellow’s dining companions just
departing. Hurrying over to grab the seat before another weary
huntsman could abscond with it, he shouted to his friend while
waving his hellos.

In a moment, Apollonius was slid up on the
bench across from his old friend. The booth was tiny, barely enough
room for two, yet tonight most of the small booths along this wall
were packed with four, and some with a chair added at the end with
an additional one or two seated at it. Apollonius was thus very
pleased to find himself and his friend occupying this cozy
enclave.

It was not that Apollonius disliked crowds.
Quite to the contrary, the fellow was a good-natured, jovial man,
always ready for a party or some lighthearted jousting. He
entertained life to the full with a boisterous exuberance rarely
found among the people of this realm. Quite unexpectedly, this
untamed energy attracted the people of the Children’s Empire to the
man, especially the women. By the standards of Apollonius’ younger
days, the fellow would have been called a ‘ladies’ man’.

Normally, Apollonius reveled in the
merriment such attention delivered upon him, and the game of
romance was one of his favorite sports during carefree hours, but
this night was different. He was just arrived back from the jungles
of EthoHule, having spent a year and some months alone in that
tropical wilderness, and he wanted to catch up on the latest news -
not from the general populace, though. Their perspective was always
gauged against their long lives, which often led to them
overlooking matters of immediate interest as being trivial and of
little importance.

Spying a friend and former acquaintance from
the Second Realm delighted Apollonius. Although being his opposite
in nature, a rather glum, self-deprecating guilt-ridden man, he was
well liked by those who knew him, and he was a good listener. Good
listeners, unlike Apollonius, who was a good yarn spinner or
talker, were apt to be filled with newsworthy accounts. All one
needed do was prime the pump, so to speak, and the news would come
bubbling forth. ‘Least that was Apollonius’ experience, if he was
doing the priming.

As Apollonius wiggled himself comfortable,
the man looked up from his mug of hot, spiced rum tea, smiling a
hello. Before the man could speak, Apollonius reached out, grasping
the man’s wrist, the man doing the same to Apollonius, squeezing it
with a shake. “It’s good to see you again, my friend! I’ve come to
this place for some good food and drink. To my delight, I have been
told my sweetheart, Suan, is here, and now I find that you, too -
my favorite acquaintance - are present also. What good
fortune!”

The man thanked Apollonius for his kind
salutation, and then went about asking him regarding his own
welfare and of his adventures in the southern jungles.

A tale rich in humor and intrigue rolled off
Apollonius’ lips. For five minutes, he spun a yarn as good to tell
as might be. After describing some of the strange plants he had
discovered, his delivering them to the city’s botanical gardens,
the lack of rooming to be found so that he dropped off his gear at
Symeon’s apartment, commenting, “the fellow is always so
accommodating, even when he’s not there”, he focused his attention
on goings on in Palace City.

“So, as I wandered through the crowded
streets, I pondered what things were all about. I found that the
entire city is abuzz with news regarding the recent prisoner
exchange. There were some wild stories, I tell you, mad men and
mayhem just to begin with. Then there was the new field marshal who
tore the place up a bit, or so I was told. Now there’s the gossip
of living swords and monsters risen from the depths and all, so
very exciting and all, but also confusing. Sounds sort of
bewildering to me.”

The man agreed with Apollonius’ assessment
of matters. He then asked him a very peculiar question that
appeared to play no part in the current conversation. “My friend,
your name, Apollonius Parrhesia Tharreo, how did you come by
it?”

Apollonius was taken aback. After thinking
about it a moment, he answered, “Apollonius the Younger Miller, is
my birth name, my grandfather being also named Apollonius, and
Miller the family occupational name. Parrhesia Tharreo I acquired
after falling in with that notorious villain PaulNomikos. I hear
he’s lately given up on his friends and can be found hanging about
with the people’s new king and all.” Both men laughed, casting
about a few lighthearted aspersions regarding the fellow.

Apollonius continued. “Parrhesia Tharreo
means ‘the destroyer with daring speech’, or something like that.
Although Parrhesia became my formal, official name, it never really
caught on, the shortened version of my birthing name clinging to me
for the remainder of my days. ‘Apollos’ was the name I was called
by, remembered by. Only the people in this world bother to call me
‘Apollonius’, ‘ApolloniusParrhesia’ as often as not. Why do you
ask?”

The man paused, silently nodding as he
peered down at his cup. Sadness grew on his face as he looked up,
asking, “Do you remember that day at the inn, at Troas, when I
first met you?”