The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth (75 page)

One by one, the chains rattled and the prison doors slammed open and shut. Yelling ensued, echoing into the sanctum of the White Spider, yet the
four captains were brought forth. He had taken over three hundred prisoners, but they had all hung from the castle walls early this morning. He picked up Mikhail’s head, and stood by his brother. He looked down, and whispered to Jehrale’s ear.

“I will name a city after you, Jehrale, a mighty city. Mother misses you, and you will forever be Vermillion of the South. I shall let that name die with you, and Ebony of the South, Oggidan who you trained, shall take your position. We won, brother, shame you are not here to see it. Mark my words though, Bryant Salganat and that wood elf, will die very painful deaths when Farrigus returns with them. I swear to you.”

King Johnas Valhera looked up, nearly two hundred agents were watching him. As were the captives. He raised Mikhail’s head in his hand, and walked up to Lord Dimitri of Addisonia. He stared, with his
green
eyes, and with the severed head he held. His hand made it appear that Mikhail was inspecting him, and Dimitri fell to his knees in sobs as the rotting head was pushed to his face.
“Get them all on their knees!”

“
Hail!
” His members shouted.

“You serve this? Still, you serve this here head in my hands?”

“No, no Johnas, I
serve
you
now, I---“

Slice, thump, thump

“I hate traitors.” Johnas swept the blade across Lord Dimitri’s neck
hard and fast
, its enchanted edge took the head off clean.
Blood shot up a foot or more as the body fell forward to the stone.

“General Fandruss of Loucas, such a decorated soldier and knight. Would you kiss your dead king?” Johnas put the pale blue and blood encrusted lips of the head toward the face of Fandruss. He turned away, gritted his teeth, and then spit in Johnas’ face.

Slice, slice, thump

The blood ran like a gusher, all down his white prison garb, and Johnas dipped Mikhail’s face in the puddle of blood at his feet. Fandruss fell forward, splatterin
g
in the crimson river. Johnas set the rotted neck into it, made a slurping sound as if the decapitated head was drinking through its throat, and then lifted it back up. Everyone just stared.

“Mikhail was thirsty, sorry, I have to keep the guest of honor appeased.” Johnas laughed as blood dripped from the
severed neck and
head of the former king.
No one laughed.

“Sir Jallan of Hurne, would you kiss your king? Perhaps follow him into another battle?” The blood soaked face of his king danced now, through the air, as Johnas used the head as a puppet.

“Go fock yourself Valhera, I hope you rot in---“

Slice, slice, slice, slice, slice, Aaarrrghhhh!

Johnas plunged his kris blade into Jallan twenty or more times, filling his face, chest, and neck with blood pouring cuts and lacerations until he finally kicked the corpse over.

“Oh,
fock myself
, eh? Brave words, enjoy the afterlife.” He walked over to Marcus Mederris, Chancellor and Knight of Southwind Keep.

“Marcus, marcus, marcus…what shall I do with you? It is bad luck to kill a priest, but, I cannot trust to let you live.” He set the head of Mikhail Salganat in the lap of Marcus Mederris.

“Perhaps, you should seek some atonement, say some prayers, before it is too late.” Marcus let the head fall and stood, arms shackled behind his back. “God may forgive you, but I never will.”

“Marcus, you just do not understand, perhaps no one does. Let me expl
ain it to you.” Johnas paced. “T
here is that moment, in the life of every man, when they realize that what they have done or are about to do,
is
very
wrong.”

Johnas kicked the head of Mikhail, it rolled into the pit, and he smiled. “
I do not have those moments,
never have.”

“
You are a madman, a demon, and your day will come, Alden willing.” Marcus stated with assured resolution.

“That is a matter of debate, one that you may be correct upon, but why wait?” Johnas walked up beside Marcus, lifted his blade to his face, and cut off Marcus’ left ear.

“
Aaaahhhhrrghhhh!”
Marcus screamed in pain as blood poured down his neck.

Johnas spoke into the disembodied ear. “Can you hear me, oh heavenly one? Are you there? No, I thought not. Will you serve a new king, then Marcus
, or continue with
prayers to
one that doe
s not hear your pathetic suffering
?”

“God needs not my body to do his works, I go to meet Alden at the---“

Slice, slice, thud, thud

Johnas cut twice, across the neck, and the head of Marcus Mederris fell to the ground. “Then go, priest, and go quietly to that place that does not exist. Tell them there, who sent you, and tell them I will be sending many more, so many.”

“I feel better, much better.” Johnas sat on the throne, and his agents all stared. “Well, get to work, throw these bodies in the pit! Are you waiting for an invitation?!”

Bodies and heads were drug into the pit,
the agents of the White Spider scattered, and Johnas Valhera took his crown and set it on the table with the praying tiger hookah. He looked to his right and saw a black panther stroll slowly into the chamber.

“Crimson of the North, Farrigus, tell me news of our beloved prince and his rescuers.”

Farrigus slowly formed back into a man, naked, but he stretched a patch over his dead eye. He looked at Johnas and shook his head.

“No. Then tell me we have Lord Alexei T’vellon at least.”

Crimson of the North shook his head again to the no as he walked into the puddles of blood and knelt before the body of Jehrale Valhera.

“No again. And then I will assume you did not find Aelaine Lazlette nor her captain Shilde?”

“No, my patriarch.” Farrigus bowed to Johnas.

“Since it is the funeral of my only blood relation, and my first days as king, you will not be killed outright. You have one hour, one hour to leave this castle and start your hunt. Report back to me when you have something of value.” Johnas took a long inhale from the pipe, the smoke hit his lungs, and the world was his.

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Say it again, with feeling.”

“Yes, your majesty!”

“Afraid not, what’s that mother? You want me to take his other eye? You
had better try harder, Farrigus!
” Johnas looked to the sword then back to the naked man.

“
YES, YOUR MAJESTY!!! HAIL KING JOHNAS!!!”
Crimson of the North roared as loud as he could.

“
Hail King Johnas
!” The members of the White Spider replied in unison.

Johnas grinned from ear to ear, his body numb, his floors covered in blood. He felt whole again,
immortal, swooning in his own power.

“Better, yet I would like to hear a lot more of that as the days go on.” He drank some wine and sheathed his blade. “Now, we have a war to plan against Caberra, with Harlaheim and Willborne as allies. I need to have forces gathered here, so that we may take si
ege to Vallakazz. Ebony of the S
outh!”

“Yes, your majesty.” Oggidan was still in pain, yet he rose to his feet slowly.

“You will go with Crimson here, and find out where our enemies are. I want reports on the west as well. Find Sapphire of the East. I will send for the other four in Devonmir and Harlaheim. The Emerald Eight need to meet, with me, which means what, young Oggidan?” Johnas was pacing now, in front of the throne.

“We need a Jade of the West, your majesty.” Oggidan replied.

“Correct, find me one, someone to train. I want this all done when, Farrigus?”

“Yesterday, your majesty.” He bowed with Oggidan, then turned to leave.

“I love it when you have all the answers.” Johnas put the crown back on his head and sat back down.
He laughed to himself and addressed the crowd of criminals.
“
Men and women, and beasts I suppose, live wealthy, kill
often, and do not ever fail me.
For your rewards will be uncountable within the White Spider. We are just getting started, my fr
iends, oh yes, this is but the beginning
.”

“
Hail King Johnas Valhera!”
They all shouted, and he smiled that wicked familiar smile, and the emerald flared green.

Lower Mines of Kakisteele

“
Hirashi uhm atril!”
Gwenneth pointed the staff of Imoch toward the door, purple energy flowed into it, and the door slid shut.

Slam, slam, slam, scrape, screech, slam, scrape

“Take my shoulder James, time to move.” The arcane prodigy was terrified, but she could not sound as such, not now. His hand rested on her shoulder, his eyes still smothered with a black swirl of shadow that she could not dismiss, and she alone had to lead them out.

“How many more are there, Gwenne?” The knight of Chazzrynn could hear the demons, from all around them, then the doors shut and they were as far off echoes. He reached for his blade again, on inctinct, but it was not there.

“Twenty or more, they are scattered, trying to surround us in these tunnels. Come on, this way.” She walked fast, not having the energy to hover or fl
y, and she had to lead James, step by step
.

“Just banish them, like before, then we find the others.”

“James, it is not that easy. I had time on the plateau, a clear view, and they were massed in a group before me. Now, they are coming fast, down small tunnels, and…and…I am weak, James.”

His hand glowed blue, a faint trickle of small harmless warm flames, and it tickled her shoulder. James Andellis kept his shield up as they walked, not that he could see, but just in case. “You know where you are going?”

“No, I have been lost in these tunnels for the last four or five turns, but I sense something ahead. Something hidden, a door that is guarded by some force of magic. It is not far now. Watch the stairs, up, there you go.”

“I trust you.” James smiled as he took the stairs carefully.

“What choice do you have, truly?” She snickered. Her left hand held the green glowing staff, her right hand still shot pins and needles as her sense of touch began to return. The forces she had unleashed into Arabashiel had drained her, hurt her, and she knew that days of rest would be needed soon.

“I could stay here, guard these stairs while you found the others.” James smiled, trying not to think of what had happened, what he had heard. He knew Shinayne was blind as well, and Saberrak had told them to run. His ears told him of the great explosions and the earthquakes, yet all he truly knew was that somewhere in that chaos, Gwenneth had pulled him up and gotten him out.

“No, I need you now, we have to get to the temple of Haddius. What would I do without my knight and protector?”

“I do not think I can protect you much, not like this.” He rubbed his eyes.
The shadows parted and swirled, but clung to his face regardless.

“Then you are here for support, for I do not wish to march this cursed place alone while demons hunt for me.” Gwenne chuckled, turned left, and saw more stairs leading up.

“I will never leave you alone, Gwenneth.” James gripped her shoulder tighter.

“I know.” She felt stronger, his touch, the blue flames, and his words, it all seemed to put her at ease and make her ner
v
ous at the same time. Either way, she felt her focus returning.

“I am sorry, about your fathers’ sword. I will find it.” James hung his head as he walked the stairs blindly.

“It is just a sword, James Andellis, just a sword.” Gwenne felt something, a pain in her heart, an ache in her throat.

“No, for me, it is a reminder of the greatest man I ever served with, a hero of Chazzrynn. I carry it in his honor, and yours.
”

“
Oh James, not now, please
.”
Gwenne sniffled.

“One night I swore to it, after I met you, that I would always use it to protect and watch over you. I think
, I hope that is
, that Arlinne can see that I am living up to my vow.” James felt ahead with his boots, solid flat ground ahead, they had finished the stairs.

“Is that what I am to you, an oath to my dead father? A vow to the sword of a man I barely remember?” Gwenneth let a tear fall, but anger was starting to follow.

“No.” James spun her around, his hand felt for her face, still his eyes saw but darkness. But, he kne
w her face, every bit of it, by
touch, smell, with all he was
inside
.

“
Then what am I to you, James Andellis?”
She whispered, his hand warmed her cheek, blue light and all, and she closed her eyes.