“You are all hereby under arrest under the authority of the Inquisitors,” the soldier said, stepping forward, “Your charges are heresy, high treason, murder of high ranking Govian officials, aiding a criminal, and many others. You will be transported to Korgath prison until your trial.” He looked to the soldiers behind them and pointed at Sarasin and her group, “Bind them.”
As the soldiers surrounded Sarasin, any amount of hope that existed in her melted away. Every bit of faith or belief that she had previously been struggling with completely broke and under her breath, she cursed the idea of the goddess and the church. As the soldiers placed the dark bag over her head, she heard Eryc softly apologize, and then everything went dark.
“Do not give up…” She heard little Sarasin whisper, “This is not over…”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rubaan VI
20th of Ramlia – 346AG
15:00 – Canrom City
“Amaria, listen,” Rubaan pleaded as his wife stormed from the kitchen to the living room, “Stop for a minute and listen.”
“No, you listen,” Amaria hissed, spinning to shove her finger into Rubaan’s face. Rubaan shut up and stared at her obediently.
“I told you, I told you, that if we were going to be together and make this work, then you could not stay in that organization. I pleaded with you to leave; I feared for your life every day. You pulled me from a life of romance and adventure and turned me into naught more than a simple housewife. I was fine with that as long as I got to see you when you got home from work every day. THAT was the agreement. Now, here you are saying that you want to go back on the agreement? What gives you the right?”
“Listen!” Rubaan held his hands out in defense, “I am doing this to protect you and Roc. I do not want to leave but please just trust me here!”
“How can I trust you if you will not even tell me what is going on with you?” Amaria asked looking at him expectantly, “Is that what you want this relationship to be about?”
“No,” Rubaan whispered and shook his head, “But you would never believe me. I don’t even know how I would even explain what is going on with me.”
Amaria smirked and shook her head, “You should have left me in Barus then,” she snapped, glaring at him, “At least I wasn’t alone then.”
“You’re not alone now dammit!” Rubaan shouted. All was silent until Roc began to cry from his bedroom. Amaria sighed and shook her head.
“Great job,” she snarled with another glare, “Thank you so much.” Amaria walked past Rubaan without another word and retreated to the back of the apartment to tend to Roc.
“Why can’t you just fucking trust me?” Rubaan asked as he slumped down on the couch. He grabbed a cup off the coffee table and took a drink, “You just don’t understand.” He set the glass down and buried his face in his hands.
It had been a week since his confrontation with Eon and Rubaan had spent much of his time worrying about Eon jumping back into his body and harming his family. The time he did not spend worrying he spent trying to make sense of everything else. He thought a lot about the implications of there being two Rubaans running around... that one was an original and one was a copy... he knew he was the copy.
Rubaan looked down at his hands and shook his head. His hands looked like the same hands he had been staring at his whole life but he knew in reality that they were only a week old. His memories were all there, there were no gaps. The only thing he could not remember was the night that the body he was in was “created” by Eon.
Among his worries, Rubaan frequently thought about his split conscience; about the fact that there was another Rubaan being held prisoner in his own body by Eon. After a week of thinking about it, Rubaan had grown very distressed that his old conscience was being put through so much pain. He knew he might never speak to him again and that his old conscience would never get to see Roc grow up or hold Amaria... that for some reason bothered him deeply.
Rubaan stood and turned to face Roc’s bedroom door. He wanted to go and make everything right, to tell Amaria that he would not be rejoining Black Knight. He wanted to hold Roc and make the boy laugh, to kiss his sweet head and know that they had a happy future in store. Unfortunately, he knew that could not happen. Not with the threat of Eon jumping into his body constantly hanging over his head. Tears welled up in his eyes and he clenched his forehead with his hand.
“It’s not forever,” he told himself, “It’s not forever...” He looked one last time at the door his wife and son were behind, listened closely to hear one last sound come from them and finally turned and walked out the front door “It’s not forever,” he whispered again as tears fell from his eyes.
***
“You’re going to get me killed,” Rubaan said to Eon as they marched closer to the Marauder camp. Eon chuckled lightly to himself and shook his head. Rubaan made Eon’s legs stop moving and put his hand on his chest, “Seriously. This is my life; you’re going to get me killed.”
“You are developing a very risky boldness,” Eon commented, “Considering the fact that your family’s life is dependent on your cooperation, I find this deeply alarming.”
“Spare me,” Rubaan replied with a snarl, “You have been making the same threat for a week now and you have yet to kill my family. You know I’ll just put a gun in my mouth if you harm them.”
“You have no idea how easy it would be for me to find a new host,” Eon reminded him, “You are a mere pawn in this game of gods. You would do well to remember that.” Rubaan begrudgingly silenced himself and left Eon to do as he pleased.
“Hail the mighty Marauder army!” Eon shouted as he approached the camp’s crude fortifications, “Make way for your new and eternal king!”
The Marauder guards were adorned in light armor made of scrap metal, bone, and leather. As Eon approached, they looked at one another and laughed. Eon stopped before them and spoke.
“Should you not bow before your king?” He asked, his voice sounding almost robotic through the mining mask, “Your superior officers will surely hear of this.”
One of the guards who wore a helmet fashioned from the skull of some fallen being licked his lips and spat what he could muster at Eon, “You’ve wandered too far into the Wasteland your majesty,” The guard mockingly laughed and held his spear to Eon’s throat. “Lucky for me; I was growing hungry.” The guard went silent and from behind his mask, Eon smiled.
“What is the matter?” Eon asked, cocking his head in an inquisitive manner, “What is it that is preventing you from thrusting your weapon?” The guard grunted and his face began to sweat as his face turned a bright red. Only his eyes moved and a look of fear was glued to his face.
“Is your weapon too heavy for you?” Eon asked, “Here.” Eon reached his hand up and snapped the head off the spear, “Does that help?” Eon looked to the other guard who wore a similar helmet and smiled.
“You are tired,” He observed with a tone of false concern, “Do your eyelids grow heavy? Remove them, be free of your weariness.” The guard remained completely silent as he pulled a knife from his belt and removed his helmet.
“The fuck?!” The first guard shouted, still unable to move, “Put your knife down idiot!” The second guard remained completely silent as he sliced away his eyelids with his own knife.
“The fuck?!” The first guard repeated.
“Your friend mentioned he was hungry,” Eon hissed with a tone of sadistic delight, “Help your friend, feed him.”
“No!” the first guard shouted, “What in Hells is going on here!” The second guard turned to his friend and forced his mouth open. The first guard, unable to move or physically object tried with all his might to resist but ultimately the second guard placed his eyelids in the first’s mouth and closed it for him.
“Delectable, no?” Eon asked, “Now I know you may want to savor the taste but as my grandmother used to say when I was a child, be not rude chew your food.” At Eon’s command, the first gu
ard began chewing the skin and hair in his mouth while the second stood and silently watched with wide, reddening eyes.
“Is this not delightful?” Eon sang as he extended his hands for Rubaan in presentation of the show, “This power over these beings, is this not intoxicating?”
“I have nothing to say to you,” Rubaan replied. “Leave me out of this.”
“It would be much more pleasant for you if you would cooperate,” Eon groaned, “This power could be yours to enjoy as it is mine.”
“There is nothing pleasant about this,” Rubaan argued, “I will never enjoy anything you do.” Eon snickered and returned to his work.
“Tell me oh Marauder,” Eon turned to the guard who had just removed his own eyelids, “Do you hunger as well.”
“If you would have it so.” The guard replied, unmoving.
“Then hunger,” Eon commanded, “Yearn for sustenance.”
“I hunger.” The guard obediently said. Eon felt a chill sweep across his body, the euphoria of his power was giving him a rush that he had not felt since before he was killed a century prior. He turned to the first guard whom he had commanded to eat his friend’s eyelids and issued a new command.
“Your friend is hungry,” Eon smiled warmly, “Open your chest and feed your friend.”
“No!” The guard shouted, as he dropped his spear and pulled a knife from its sheath at his waist, “Please!” With a loud crack, the guard plunged the knife through his own sternum.
Blood rushed from the wound and down onto his hands. He wailed as Eon forced his hands to saw through the bone and pleaded for it to end. Finally, the blade reached his diaphragm and he felt his rib cage split in two. He dropped the knife and placed his hand into the wound he had created.
“Remove your heart,” Eon urged with an eerie tone of anticipation, “Feed your friend.”
The guard wrapped his fingers around his heart and proceeded to pull it through the gaping wound in his chest. Blood was gushing from his mouth and from the wound and as he handed the heart to his friend, his eyes closed and his head went limp at the neck. His friend grabbed the heart and held it to his lips.
“Eat,” Eon sang, “Eat and be filled.”
***
“Mother, listen,” Rubaan said into his phone as he sat in his Caroset, “My family is in danger. I need you to take care of them.” Rubaan turned into the alley that led to Dauid’s shop and parked.
“What is your family in danger of Rubaan?” His mother asked from the other end of the line, “What do you need me to do?”
“I’m going to Aunt Emerald. She is the only one who can help me right now,” Rubaan replied, “The less you know, the less you’ll worry. Please, go and get Amaria and Roc. Let them know I’m safe and that everything will be fine.”
“Will everything be fine, my son?” His mother asked with a hint of worry in her voice, “What have you gotten yourself into?”
“Mother I love you,” Rubaan said, “Please tell Amaria that I’m not leaving her. Tell her I will be back.”
“Rubaan,” his mother argued, her voice sounded more worried and slightly frantic, “Rubaan, tell me...”
“Goodbye, mother.” Rubaan flipped his phone shut. He threw the phone across the car and rubbed his brow with his hand.
“Fuck,” He lowered his head and rested it on the steering wheel, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He sat for a moment and thought one last time about whether there was another way or not. He knew there was not.
He turned the key to start his car and sat silently. He had his papers and identification at the ready and was prepared to leave the city. He knew he had enough money for gas to make it to the village of Empyr and then he could walk the rest of the way to Base 21 if he had to. He knew his aunt Emerald was his only hope.
“Open the door!” Rubaan jumped as he heard a voice suddenly shout. It was a deep slightly muffled voice. He turned his head to look out the window and saw two Inquisitors standing outsides with rifles at the ready.
“I repeat, open the door and step out of the vehicle!” the Inquisitor shouted, “By order of the Emperor whom you have sinned against, open the door!”
A feeling of dread shot down Rubaan’s spine. His heart began to race and he instinctively raised his hands in the air. “What’s going on!” he shouted, “What have I done!”
The Inquisitor reached his hand out and forcefully pulled the car door open. Rubaan sat motionlessly and could only watch as the Inquisitor grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him onto the ground outside the car.
“Stay down!” The second Inquisitor commanded as he knelt down, firmly pressing his knee against Rubaan’s back. He pulled Rubaan’s hands behind his back and bound them together.
“You are under arrest for the murder of Glen Kaar, one of the Empire’s own,” the Inquisitor growled, “By order of the Emperor whom you have sinned against your rights as a citizen are hereby stripped from you,” The Inquisitor pointed at their car across the street and looked at Rubaan, “Get in the car.” He ordered, “We have a cell waiting for you.”
***
“Dearest… you do wish to be called warlord, right?” Eon asked, unimpressed by the appearance or title of the Gaian Marauder standing before him, “I do not wish to insult you by addressing you improperly.”
“Get on with it!” The Marauder bellowed, “You have killed two of my own and proven yourself worthy of an audience with me. Now, what is it you want?”
“Straight to it then,” Eon replied, “I want what you call your army.”
The Marauder stood silently for a moment and then snorted, “You want… my army?” The warlord repeated, looking to his second in command at his right, “You, the tiniest little fuck I have ever seen are bold enough to kill two of my warriors and then prance up to me and ask for my army?”
“Yes,” Eon nodded, “I am willing to pay you handsomely.”
“Pay?” The warlord belted, “Are you serious? We are not for hire!”
“I wish to hire no one,” Eon replied, “I wish only to have.”
“You can have nothing!” The warlord shouted, flinging spit onto Eon’s mask.
“I simply do not have the time to convince you,” Eon sighed, “I do wish you were more open to negotiations.”
“I negotiate with nobody!” The warlord shouted, grabbing the axe from his side, “Now leave before I…” he was unable to utter another word before his body exploded in a mess of blood and tissue. The former second in command’s jaw dropped and he fell to his knees before Eon.
“We will fight for you,” he quickly, yet calmly declared as he placed his hands on the back of his head in submission, “I give you our army.”
Eon nodded and motioned for the bowing Marauder to stand, “A very wise decision.” Eon took a step forward and extended his hand. The Marauder cautiously reached out and grabbed it.
“I am your king,” Eon informed him, “Say it.”
“You are my king.” The Marauder obediently repeated. Eon walked around to his side and placed his arm around the Marauder’s shoulder.
“Tell me, what is your name?” He asked, “What shall I call my new second in command?”
“Heklaar,” The Marauder answered, “I am called Heklaar.”
“Well, Heklaar,” Eon grinned, “We have much to do in preparation of the arrival… arise. Bring me your best five men. They shall be knighted and adorned in my regalia. Prepare my tent that my host may rest… and arm every man, woman, and child in this camp, for soon this world will be ours.”
Heklaar nodded and stood to his feet. He stood two whole heads taller than Eon and carried a heavy looking maul with him.
“We must begin the creation of my army. Have we any prisoners that I may see?”
“We do,” Heklaar said, “Follow me.”
“Very good,” Eon replied, “This is the beginning of the age of Eon… I am that I am, watch and see.”
***
It had been two days since he had
been taken by the Inquisitors, two days he sat in the darkness of the cell and all he could do was weep. He had lost everything including the shred of hope he had mustered the day before when he had departed for Base 21. His heart told him he would never again see his son, never again hold Amaria. He regretted all that he had done and wished he would have just stayed home and hoped that the other him would not let Eon down. He knew it was selfish to think such a thing but he was about to die so that justified it in his mind.
When the Inquisitors had brought him into the jail, they had stripped him of everything he had. They left him in soiled rags that he was sure had been worn by countless others before him and never been washed.
His cell was dark and humid and smelled of urine. The dirt floor he sat on was moist and soaked through the rags he was wearing. At that point though, he did not care. He silently sat and prayed to the Brothers to help him.
Rubaan thought about Roc’s future as he prayed. He wished he could watch the boy grow and teach him everything he knew about life. He wanted to teach him how to play brayball and what to do when girls turned him down. He wanted to patch up skinned knees and spank the boy when he misbehaved. Rubaan laughed warmly at the thought of being able to do any of those things with his son but his temporary happiness fled when he realized it was all a fantasy.
“I am a failure,” He found himself saying. He lowered his head and tears fell from his eyes again, “I’m sorry…” Rubaan heard footsteps coming his way. He knew that dawn was probably upon him and sighed.
“I’m sorry Rubaan,” He said to himself, “We tried.” The footsteps were drawing nearer. Rubaan wiped the tears from his eyes and prepared himself for whatever was to come.
As the sound drew closer, Rubaan realized he was not hearing just one set. He listened harder and realized that many people were coming his way and that they were moving rather quickly, almost running. He halted his thoughts for a moment and listened as he fearfully imagined what could have been going on.
The Black Knight Box Set Page 53