The prisoner says, “She’ll be missed. You won’t be… coward.”
“I’m definitely not a coward,” he snapped.
“Why are you hiding…” the other soldier grunted with a breathy exhale, “If you’re not a coward?”
“Ethereal memories, freak number two,” he glances over. “I forgot you were alive. It’s about time you chimed in. Your friend was taking all the amusement for himself.” He takes a few steps, making his way around the room. “If you think you’re smart, how come I took her when the two of you were watching? You’re all tricked easily… oh… and hiking in Alaska is dangerous. Did you not know this?”
“She might not…” the second soldier pants, “… had the best soldiers, but we’re willing to die for her.”
“Correct… and you’ll die with only that knowledge. You’ll never know who slayed you. Pity. I’m not a moron, and I’m not going to be fooled into giving my identity away.”
The first prisoner says, “We might not know you, bastard, but the general will find you. He always does… it’s only aaaa…” his head falls back. His weakened jaw hangs open as he drifts off and speaks muzzled words, “matter… of time —
“I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m taking you off the battlefield for good.” Both prisoners are quiet behind the breaths losing strength. The commander continues, “I only need one soldier to gather all my plans.” The commander’s voice hovers through the dark, laughing like a vinyl record playing backwards. A brief moment of silence takes over. His presence eludes them. “You can’t even pick out where I’m at. You’re so tired.”
He whispers behind a soldier’s ear. “I was once a mindless soldier of the general… a freak like you. And when I’m done, no one will stop me. I have plans within plans.” He flicks the soldier’s head back. “I can feel your bodies dying,” stroking the other prisoner’s hair. “You have no clue of who I am. I’ve been completely erased. I have more power than you could possibly comprehend. You’ll be vapor floating in space when I’m done. Released from duty. As promised.”
He unsheathes a sword left on a table between them. Metallic material sharply sings a deadly tune. “It was easy to disarm you.” He studies steel. The faint light ricochets over the blade between the two prisoners. “A primitive metal you carry.” He draws back. “I’m tired of this discussion. You bore me…” and drives it deep, through two sets of lungs. The steel skewers straight through hanging soldiers, pinning them side-by-side. “As promised… you’re released. I can always keep my promises too.”
Their bodies are jammed together. Wheezing. The commander’s sniggering plugs the shadowy chamber. He presses the sword further, twisting it to the rise of screams. He raises his voice over yelping, “I have your keys. Every one of your deaths serve as bargaining chips to grow my army. You’ve all been working for me and never realized it.” He flips out the light above their heads and stands back. Listening. “Music to my ears.”
Chains wriggle, and laborious grunting echoes its breathing across the room. Dark drips slowly slide from the blade between the two soldiers. Finally, silence permeates throughout obscurity, and the commander is left smiling at no one. The only sound in the blacked-out chamber is that of the echoes from out in the hall. Movements of people’s feet. The faint screams of women reflecting off walls. He swims in the sorrow… until footsteps pause outside the door. A visitor… how did I know? He snaps, “Who is it? Nevermind… it’s obvious, Sam. I could hear mouth breathing all the way down the hall.”
Samstarsey peaks through. “Are there any ears in here, my Lord? I bring news.”
“No,” hopping down from the stone table, “It’s clear. None are tracking. There’s no evidence.” He pivots toward the door. “Enter, Sam.”
Samstarsey steps forward, “My Lord—
“I only want good news, Sam. I’ve just lost another wife… a virgin who was too fragile. I’m not turning back for another one, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“My Lord, I bring news about Yuleshua… I mean… Lucius.”
“Tell me.”
“We just had a visit from a scout.”
“A scout?” The commander says, “I don’t like random scouts having access to our docks. I only work with the Mangoram. Scouts leave too many tracks.”
“Yes, sire. But he was sent by the Mangoram.”
“What did the scout say?”
“He said a soldier in Texas has a strange way of protecting the general’s daughter. It was her. Josephine. He was talking about Josephine.”
“I get that.” The commander spirals his index. “Continue.”
“After the account, I erased the scout so this news wouldn’t spread.”
“It must be important news. We’ve exhausted most of our resources there. The Mangoram understand this. I’m intrigued, Sam.”
“The scout reported a particular soldier… well… he lies in bed and speaks with her while she sleeps —
“Yuleshua sleeps in the bed with her?” The commander’s voice elevates, “Then turn this vessel around. He’s already broken rules by defiling her. Hurry. The Mangoram can’t get a hold of them before us.” He walks toward the door. “We can get Lucius now before she starts showing. I want the child. He can’t be born. Wait… I thought you said the Mangoram sent the scout. Why would they send a scout with this information?”
“No, my Lord.” Sam’s words pause the commander as he continues, “It’s not —
“Sam, the general won’t send anyone to protect a defiled soldier. He’s cursed himself by it. The general will exile him, if she’s carrying his baby. We need to get to Yuleshua before the general punishes him and before the Mangoram grow brains. I need his abilities intact and the child’s DNA. I can harvest the child before he’s full-term.”
“Not exactly, my Lord. He doesn’t touch her like that. The Mangoram said they’re both undefiled. They ran scanners… both are virgin.”
“What is it then?”
“They’ve been watching him closely. He hides from her while she’s awake. There’s no doubt she waits for his return.”
“Bye, Sam. You’re on fecal duty now. And don’t bother me again with nonsense. The Mangoram are just buying themselves time while tickling our ears.” The commander waves a dismissive hand through a cracked door. “I already knew this.”
“This is different. It means we need to use other measures. They’re catching on.” Sam pauses at the door.
“Catching on? How is this different than what we’re already doing? It’s why we’re taking, as you say, measures. Rueshta’s nearly done with plan B.”
“But… he’s been watched lying in bed next to her. Talking to her. He has feelings for her.”
“Of course, he does. Yuleshua’s merely protecting his potential stake in claiming her. It’s called persuasive sleep. He’s just keeping the illusion of them being together.”
“My Lord…” Samstarsey lowers his head. “I’m trying to tell you. The ground troops are catching on, is what I’m saying. This is the third report of such unusual behavior. He’s letting his guard down because of the sparse attacks. In a way, the Mangoram are letting you know it’s spreading beyond their control — our knowing his identity.”
“What nonsense are you alluding to? You haven’t said anything I didn’t already know. Quit wasting my time.”
“Many factors. I’m alluding to many factors,” Sam continues. “Surely you’re reading my mind.”
“It’s jumbled at the moment,” the commander says. “Perhaps if you spoke more clearly?”
“The Mangoram are losing faith in us delivering what you’ve promised. They’re letting the news spread. We’re running out of scouts, Sire. It’s costing us to keep this quiet and we’re building more enemies the longer we wait. And now he’s showing signs of letting his guard down. He’s weak for her, and if we don’t act now, our ground troops might not be receptive to harvest what we’ve sowed. This is our only chance.”
“Wha
t are you saying about our alliances? Have you seen a switch?”
Sam steps closer. “I’ve read their minds. Many are making alliances… other forms of getting what they want. They can’t block their thoughts completely from me. We’re losing our recruits the longer we wait. They want those keys.”
“Relax. It means they don’t know who to trust,” the commander said. “They’ll quickly rejoin when we dangle keys in their faces. They’ll do anything for a pardon.”
“I have been,” Sam answered. “My Lord, they’re catching on that we’re killing them. Whoever we don’t kill to clean up loose fringe… Lucius does. We need those resources, especially, for when we’re ready to gather him. No stories have come back with successful escapees.”
“It’s simple.”
“How do you figure simplicity?”
“Keep the scouts believing keys have already been received for good service. Those who’ve gone missing have merely escaped and don’t want to come back. Nobody wants to follow the Mangoram anyway at this point. It’s easier to believe that they’ve been rewarded. Particularly if some are being erased and the Mangoram are sending them here. That thought alone would confuse the hell out of them. They’d rather listen to me and believe that they are being rewarded. Those ground troops are dumber than a box of hair if they haven’t pieced that one together anyway. They’ll get over it. Prisoners have no choice.”
Sam drops his shoulders. “When? When are we going to make our move?”
“Patience.”
“But when?”
“What would you have me do? We can’t buy off the Mangoram until Lucius is out of hiding. I’m walking a tight rope with the device not functioning properly. Rueshta’s taken it apart dozens of times already. Yuleshua might be weak when we use the army, but that device is an insurance policy that will keep him that way for when WE gather him.”
Sam says, “Maybe the slave is doing it on purpose? Maybe he’s a spy.”
The commander slaps Sam down into a corner and shoves an index against his cheekbone. “That boy has done everything I’ve asked. He’s no spy. You’ll not speak so lowly of him in my presence. He’s like a son to me, and he was there when I lost Abaddon.”
“Yes.” Sam raises submission. His fingers still tremble. “I apologize, my Liege. I lost myself,” and he peels himself up from metallic flooring. After he adjusts his jacket and unclogs his throat, he continues, “If you don’t mind my prodding —
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing? Along with pissing me off.”
“— I think it’s been long enough. It’ll work while Rueshta finishes the weapon. If… Rueshta can figure it out.”
The commander asks, “What will work? What are you supposing?”
Sam takes a step forward and nearly touches noses with the commander. “Let’s attack now.”
“That’s what you were getting at? Shortening the fuse? My… my… how slow your mind works sometimes, Sam. Are you sure you’re not high?” He chuckles. “Patience. We need time. Josephine knows nothing. But when she does… I’ll have a bargaining chip. He won’t be able to go back into hiding when a massive cat’s free from that bag. Nobody can erase that kind of perception.” The commander paces for several moments. “Wait…” He leans against the stone altar. The sound of stroked stubble scratches over jawline.
Sam bows his head. “Yes, sir?”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Have my son —
“Which one?”
“— Don’t be a smartass, Sam. You know very well which one. Have Apollyon speak with the Mangoram. The Mangoram that’s been bugging the hell out of me… and baiting you to come knocking at my door. The one who’s been sending scouts just to get things moving. Tell that Mangoram to bring in the pawn he was talking about…” waving his hand, “The pawn he said would be too tempting for Lucius.”
“That idea?” Sam asks, “Are you trying to get Lucius to break the rules again? Are you trying to get him to kill someone he’s unauthorized to kill?”
“Of course, moron.”
“But he’ll be imprisoned. We’ll lose our opportunity if he breaks rules.”
“You forget all the ramifications.”
Sam nudges forward. “Like what?”
“First of all, it will buy us time. The Mangoram will continue believing we’re working with them. Ground troops will blindly follow, as always. And… you’ll stop annoying Rueshta and me. We’ll finish finalizing our original plan without you beeping an alarm every five minutes. Lucius will be forced out of hiding if he fears losing her.”
“You think a civilian will work?”
“Absolutely. We can try it the Mangoram way for a short time. When they go to collect their bounty, have them report to me what they find.”
Josephine stretches, dreaming of how sunlight ricochets off the turquois water of the San Antonio River. A nostalgic warmth bathes over her almost like someone lying in bed beside her. Like someone cradling her against his warm chest. “I love dreaming I’m here.” The birds sing toward sun beams. A morning glow radiates as she sits along the wall. “Lucius, where are you? I can feel you.”
“You always know.” Lucius enters her dream. It’s become like clockwork for her. Anytime she senses him in a dream or picks up a faint hue of his likeness, like the living color of water, all she says is… Lucius. He’s there for her. “Here I am,” he walks out from behind trees. “Of course, you already knew. I’m coming back for you someday.”
“You say that a lot.”
“Because I am. I want you to believe it. That’s why I answer you when you call me. I want you to trust me.”
“When? When are you coming to get me?” She arises from her spot on the stone wall and embraces his chest. His aroma already permeates her senses. “When?”
“Soon, my love.” He strokes her face and she can taste his breath. It’s sweet and warm against her temple and cheek. He whispers, “Don’t forget my love for you. I am coming back.”
“I miss you.”
Lucius absorbs her hazel eyes. “I miss holding you like this. With your heart racing against me. It feels so good to be wanted.”
“Do you leave those presents for me?” She winks. “The little origami pieces of nature left on my front porch from time to time.”
He smiles. “Are you asking if I make things grow a certain way just to tell you how much I love you?”
She shrugs. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence… and I never realized how some things grow.” Her head rests beside him on a wall outlining the river.
Suddenly,
There’s a change. He says, “You’re doing it again.” He glances around at the changing environment. Her dream evolves and they’re no longer outside and along the San Antonio River. They’re inside her foyer of the cabin. Lucius’s exhales a stunned breath. “You clearly have the power to control your mind. You always surprise me. Not many can do this.”
“I wanna show you something. Something I had forgotten for some reason.” She points toward the front entrance. “It’s difficult to explain how it happened. Like a vague memory… or a dream. I don’t know how I forgot it.”
Lucius cranks a brow, “Oh, really? You remember some’n? What happened?”
An ambiguous silhouette of Artie dawns the foyer. It’s hazy, but it’s definitely his likeness. The golden highlights are unmistakable. “Somebody came to my house. He’s as tall as you, but with more blonde in his hair.”
Lucius gathers a stance beside the figure, measuring the generous height she portrays. “Maybe not that tall. Baby, come on.” He broadens his eyes. “I mean… continue with your memory.”
“Well…” the figure’s leather covered fingers raise to adjust a buttoned blouse, “…he wore these gloves and the same plaid button up you used to wear.” The character clears up some to reveal memorized stripes of plaid. “The purple one.” She squeezes the top of her nose when trying to visualize his face more vividly.
Lucius brushes the memory
away from her a little more with a sway over her cheek. “Don’t trouble yourself, baby.” The vision of Artie becomes less distinct.
“I know it really happened. Why’s it so difficult? It was so vivid before. He had a woodsy fragrance like a mountain. Like the pine that reminded me of my dad. But his posture and clothes reminded me of you. He was just like you.”
“Truly? Not exactly like me.”
“In many ways he was. He knew you so well. Anyway…” She tries focusing, but with all her boundless imagination she can’t bring his face to life. “I know it was real.” His face soon fades into the room like a glare peeking through curtains. She’s left transferring his presence and memory only through her emotions. Josephine rushes up with apologetic eyes. “I can’t remember everything. Sorry. I forgot what he looked like.”
“You’re okay, baby.”
“He said he was your friend. That you still love me and might be gone for a long time. It was Valentine’s Day.”
“Wait… you still remem…” shaking his head, “I mean… you dreamt that it was on Valentine’s? Do you remember the conversation completely?”
“Of course, I do. Maybe not his face, but his testimony of you. I remember his words most. They were words I wanted to hear. He had a lighter voice. Soft spoken. He was almost afraid to say it. But he brought the message for you.”
“How can you be so sure? How do you remember this?”
She snickers. “There was evidence of the conversation.”
“What evidence? He didn’t do anything. He didn’t leave any evidence.”
“Yes… there was,” she said.
“What evidence?”
“I ate two cookies from a package and was eating my second one when he knocked on the door. I left it on the counter. Amber was joking about it. You see? Those cookies were the dessert I was bringing to her dinner party that evening. She knew I would take a couple. And I knew I would. When I came home and saw the remaining half cookie, I remembered why I had left it. Your friend visited me.”
Ashes Remain Page 2