by Gene Stiles
“This is what you ask of me when you demand vengeance on Atlantis,” Ra said coldly, his words sharp and acidic. “This is what you insist I visit on you, our warriors, our citizens and our cities. Is this what you really want?”
He could see how his words touched the hearts and souls of his people. Their flesh paled as they bowed their heads at the heinous images Ra was painting. Some gripped their hands almost in silent prayer on the tables before them. Others looked as if they were about to retch out their noontime meal. That is exactly what he wanted from them – to see and feel the full reach of what a war with Atlantis would do to all of Nil.
Sadly, Ra also saw many who did not care. Those who still agreed with Set relished the idea of destroying their enemies in such an atrocious fashion. No matter what he said, he could see they believed Cronus would fall under the massive power of Nil long before he could retaliate as Ra said he would. He could see the hunger for war and the bloodlust coloring the cheeks of their stony faces. They would not be dissuaded. Ra would have to watch them carefully. He glanced back at Isis and Astraeus. They both gave small, curt nods. They saw it, too.
“The Atlantean legions which passed through our lands did not kill wantonly,” he said in grim conclusion. “Only one life was lost and then only because he attacked their Commander first. If the Lord Father had slaughtered our people, no matter how much it would grieve me, we would be having a very different conversation. I assure you of that.”
“Now go,” Ra finished with a sweep of his hand. “Think carefully on what I have said. When we meet again, tell me what you have decided.” His azure eyes blazed as brightly as a bonfire as he spoke his last words. “Remember, the fate of not only Nil but of the entire planet lays in your hands. Go.”
“Do you think you got through to them?” Isis asked as she settled in a corner of the large, overstuffed couch in Ra’s private quarters. She placed her crown on the small table next to her, shook loose her luxurious mane of shiny auburn hair and ran her fingers through the soft waves. She picked up a goblet of dark, red wine, needing something stronger than her usual green tea after the hours of heated debate.
“One can only hope,” Ra replied wearily. He sat heavily into his cushioned, brocade armchair and stretched his long legs out on the ottoman. Outside his huge windows, true night had fallen and the sky was a tapestry of shimmering stars. Even the glow of the city lights could not dim their incredible brilliance. Ra found great comfort that awe-inspiring sight.
“And if you did not?” Astraeus dropped like a stone on the opposite end of the sofa from Isis. Using the staff without the armor to back it took a toll on his body and left him tired and hungry. The kitchen was sending him a large bowl of venison stew and a platter of cheese and bread to replace his expended energy. Until then, the tankard of strong ale would have to do.
“Honestly,” Ra said with a deep sigh, “no matter what our commanders and counselors say, I will not send our armies against Atlantis at this time. I was both surprised and pleased when Zeus and his sisters arrived to beg for restraint and they were right. This is their fight, not ours.”
“And what if Cronus does attack us outright?” Osiris asked bluntly. He stared into his steaming green tea, his jade eyes narrowed and dark. “As much as I dislike agreeing with my brother, Set does make some valid points.”
“The Lord Father has assaulted Nil before,” he said, looking up at the others. The warm smile and good nature for which Osiris was known was absent from his long, sculpted face, replaced with a deep concern. “What is to keep him from doing so again?”
“That was in the far past when he thought us weak and defenseless,” Ra replied calmly. “He learned a terrible lesson back then. We are far stronger than he could imagine. That is why we are at peace now.”
“True,” Osiris countered curtly, nodding his head. “However, as Set pointed out, Cronus has built hidden bases on our lands in recent years and secretly sent troops to our shores. Afrikanikis is too vast to know if or how many might still exist.”
“What I do know,” he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, “is that a large number of tribes, villages and settlements I encountered on my explorations have seen airships in their skies. You have read my reports. Some have seen strange, tall peoples in their woods. I have seen temples and shrines built in their honor where they are worshiped as gods. It may have been our own explorers…then again, it may have not.”
“Well,” Astraeus said after thanking the servant for his food and waiting for the young woman to leave the room, “we also know Cronus created the Atlantica fortress on our shores with a specific goal in mind. Maybe for a planned invasion of our cities. He was not at war with the Olympians at the time. If not for the intervention of Zeus and the blockade Poseidon put up against weapons on the high seas, we might have Atlanteans on our doorsteps at this very moment.”
Ra hated to see the truth in their comments, but it was there and could not be ignored. He knew how ruthless Cronus could be. He witnessed it firsthand long centuries ago when he had been Captain Ramathus of the Atlantean fleet. He politely declined the platter of cheese and bread offered to him, his stomach in too much turmoil to handle food at the moment. He could barely tolerate the soothing chamomile tea he sipped to calm his frayed nerves.
He looked out his at the vibrant nighttime city and the Great Pyramid glowing in the distance. What they had created was beautiful and peaceful. How could he risk everything they worked so hard for? The Message would be sent within a month. The first Nillians said the star-spanning empire was kind and caring. If the Siriuseans were listening, they could arrive in time to prevent further conflict and take them all home. The lost colony of Atlan finally reunited with their ancestors. Ra sent a prayer to the Creator, begging him for guidance.
“Well,” Ra said with a deep sigh, “we stand upon a precipice. No matter how we feel, all it will take is a spark to force us into a hellish war we may not survive. Let us hope Cronus pays heed to Raet and the warning she carries. If not, I fear the entire world lies in great peril.”
Raet strode through the streets of Atlantis, an entourage of ten, blue-robed Aam at her back. The snows had long vanished from the city, but the air was still crisp and cold, not that she could feel it. The sidewalks were packed with awe-struck citizens who braved the bitter chill to stare open-mouthed at the stunning procession that passed them by. More of the People hid behind closed windows and doors, gasping in horrified wonder at the terrifyingly beautiful creature that led the troupe. Even the Black Guard that flanked the envoys kept a respectful, fearful distance away from them though they clutched their rifles a little too tightly to their chests.
Raet smiled inwardly. This was exactly the reaction she intended to create by landing her skyship so close to the outskirts of Atlantis instead of the airport father away where they would have had to take transports to the Central Pyramid. It was why they were dressed as formally as they were. Raet wanted all of the People to feel apprehension and dread and to see the power of Nil with their own eyes. Hopefully, that would make Cronus listen carefully to what she had come here to say.
Beneath the thick, night-blue robes her Aam wore, they were clad in crimson-tiled armor, each small, square plate edged in raven black that covered them from neck to waist. Dark red leather breeches hugged their muscled legs, a wide stripe of gold-trimmed black running down the outsides. The ebony boots they wore were knee-high and polished to a shiny finish.
As impressive looking as the Aam were, it was Raet who caused such wonder and concertation among the Atlanteans. Instead of a person, they saw a fearful creature of myth and legend walking through their city. The shapely, hard-muscled body was wrapped in maroon and yellow-gold armor from head to toe that clung to every curve like a second skin. Only her copper-colored arms were exposed to the weather, but they did not seem cold. Wide bands of crimson, edged with thin, black stripes surrounded her bare biceps, each inlaid with strange-looking symbols.
Sheaths of similar style covered her forearms from wrist to elbow, also embedded with runic shapes. Wings of metal sprouted from her shoulder blades, rising slightly above her amazing face and falling almost to the ground. Each elegant red feather was trimmed in midnight-black.
It was her face that caused many to choke on the acidic bile filling their throats. Where a beautiful woman’s face should have been there sat an ebony-headed falcon with a throat of gold and a wicked-looking, curved jonquil-yellow beak. The large round eyes were maroon encircled by a thin ring of gold. Brilliant black and yellow feathers flowed across her broad, square shoulders, halfway down her back and fell in the front to the middle of the sensuous rise of her ample chest. Encircling the savage forehead, just above those piercing eyes, was a crown of gold centered by two upraised horns holding a glowing sun between them. Around the woman’s falcon neck, was a heavy chain necklace that stopped mid-torso. A huge sun disk held between upraised silver horns hung from the necklace and was strapped around her V-shaped ribcage. Like the one on her crown, it swirled and pulsed as if it were something alive and terrible, black and yellow mists shifting within as if eager to escape its imprisonment.
As if the ferocious apparition was not enough to cause legs to tremble and bowels loosen, the magnificent bird-beast was cocooned in a thin, shimmering aura of light gold that the coldness in the air was incapable of penetrating.
The spectacular parade intentionally took just long enough for word of their arrival to spread faster than a hurricane wind. Cronus already knew Raet was coming and that is why he sent the Black Guard to escort them. He would greet the envoy at the steps of the pyramid, forcing her to come to him. He intended to keep the Nillian in her place. If he had realized she would be dressed in full Cydonian battle armor, he would have rethought that tactic.
Cronus walked down the last few steps of the Central Pyramid dressed in thickly padded, ebony leathers and a heavy wool blouse to fend off the wintery afternoon air. His long, black robe swept the granite blocks beneath his booted feet, the diamond chips inlaid in intricate patterns upon the midnight material glittering in the bright sunlight. The crown of Atlantis with the Tree before the Pyramid symbol at its peak kept the fiery curls of his shoulder-length hair from his ruggedly handsome, grim-looking countenance.
His dark-jade eyes were narrowed beneath his crinkled brow as Raet approached. Cronus kept his face impassive and hard, but the sight of that incredible creature sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold. He had read his brother’s reports of his encounter with this woman, yet the actual sight of such spectacular, barely restrained power shook his core.
To his right, the inscrutable Iapetus stood like a pillar of marble, his raven hair held in a tight braid down his massively muscled back. His ebon eyes were flat and unreadable as he stared at the visage which massacred so many of his troops in one fell swoop. He remembered her standing at the wall of Olympia, alone against legions and how easily she had decimated his terrified forces. This was not someone to be underestimated. Though he would never speak the words, the thought of this deadly Falcon on the streets of Atlantis filled Iapetus with ominous, gut-wrenching fear.
Raet stopped on the huge, polished marble platform at the base of the steps, her guard fanning out to the rear and flanks. As she had planned, the courtyard and streets around the front of the pyramid were packed with curious throngs. She looked up at the Cronus, gave a curt bow and spoke, her words amplified by the armor’s circuitry.
“Lord Father, ruler of Atlantis,” she said respectfully, “I am Raet, ambassador of Lord Ra of Nil. Thank you for receiving me.”
“Welcome to Atlantis, Lady Raet,” Cronus replied, his tone as hard as the stone beneath his feet. “Please come inside,” he said, sweeping his hand behind him. “Warm refreshments await. We will speak thereafter. I do require your escorts to wait in the foyer. I assure you, they will be treated well and you will be safe and secure as long as you are here.”
“Of that, I have no doubt,” she said with a nod of agreement. Behind her elegant, ornate mask, Raet smiled grimly. She remembered how Cronus had tried to kill her the last time she left these shores. That is why she came in armor this time. Any attempt on her life would be met with force enough to bring this pyramid smashing down upon his head.
Once inside, Raet took off her lavishly stylized helmet and had one of her Aam remove and secure her wings. It was incredibly difficult to sit with them attached to her back. The rest of her outfit she kept on, letting the swirling orb upon her chest give warning against any thought of aggression. She decided to forgo refreshment and requested to relay her message without delay. Raet had no desire to stay in Atlantis any longer than absolutely necessary.
“We of Nil have done our best to stay out of your conflict with your children,” she said without preamble as she stood at the end of the giant, polished mahogany table in the council chamber. Her long midnight hair flowed down her back like a cape, loose and glistening with natural luster in the brightly lit room. Yet, her large, almond-shaped, hazel eyes were filled with flickering flames. Her small, rose-colored lips cut a hard line below her aero-straight nose as she spoke.
“We have kept our truce with Atlantis,” she said sternly. “You have not. The Trinity sends word we will no longer tolerate your incursions upon Afrikanikis or your invasion of our cities. Should you continue these assaults on our lands, we shall respond with devastating force.”
“You dare threaten me in my own city?” Cronus said with a deep, rumbling growl. He rose from his chair at the other end of the table, leaning heavily on his white-knuckled fists. “I could have you killed or imprisoned in a heartbeat!”
“You could try,” Raet replied icily. The runes on her wrist guards glowed bluely and the sun-disk on her chest churned malevolently. “I assure you, you would not like the outcome.”
Cronus felt his cheeks burn with the rage growing inside him and his emerald eyes flashed with dangerous lightning. When Iapetus put a restraining hand on his trembling shoulder, Cronus gifted his brother with a withering glance. Somewhere in the red haze that blurred his vision, Cronus remembered the power of that armor and what hell it could unleash. Before his temper overcame his reason, Themis cut into the dark fog swirling around him.
“You say you have kept our truce,” she said calmly. “You have not. You might not have attacked us directly, but you have given our enemies sanctuary and provided them with armament to use against us. You have given them lands that rightfully belong to Atlantis and driven us away from our own outposts.”
Themis looked over at the others around her. Her twin, Thea was enraptured by the stunning beauty of the Nillian woman and the strength of her stance. Coeus studied the armor as would any scientist, admiring the artistry of the workmanship while trying to fathom its alien mechanics. Phoebe absently ran her fingers through her long, platinum-blond hair, her pale blue eyes carefully watching the pulsing orb and sensing the danger in its depths. Only young Crius looked as if he wanted to slap the arrogance from the envoy’s insolent face. What Themis did see in all of their countenances, except for Crius, was a wary agreement with the Nillian position. It troubled her greatly.
“You are incorrect,” Raet replied bluntly, turning her gaze on Cronus. “True, we did give Heliseous to Olympia, but only after your Lord Father sent warships stationed there to destroy me on my way back to Nil.” Her eyes went dark and her tone was bitter. “I lost many a good crewman to that unprovoked, vicious attack. I have not forgotten.”
“As for arms,” she continued, looking back at Themis, “it is also true we provided Zeus with weapons, but they were for defense only. We did so to allow Olympia to protect itself from frequent Atlantean attacks. We give no offensive arms and never have.” She stared hard at the council members. “Your Lord Father has destroyed Olympian homelands and slaughtered its citizens. You should be grateful we do not do more.”
Ignoring the bristling of the faces before her, Raet re
turned to her mission. “Atlantis has established bases on Nillian soil.” She was amazed at the surprise on many around her. She thought they were all party to this knowledge. “They have been dealt with. Just months ago, your armies invaded two of our cities and occupied them to use them as footholds in an attack on Heliseous.”
“I come here with a specific message from Lord Ra and the Trinity,” Raet said sharply. “If you plant Atlantean feet on Nillian lands again without express permission, we will perceive it as an act of war and will respond immediately and with all the power we possess. That is not a threat. It is a promise.”
Raet turned on her heel without further comment and strode out of the room. She was not afraid to put her back to the Lord Father and actually did so on purpose. Her armor would respond automatically should she be attacked. She steadfastly ignored the furious fervor and shouted curses she left in her wake as if they were of no consequence.
The Black Guard at the chamber doors eyed her warily as she approached, their hands going to the butts of their weapons. Not knowing if they should impede her exit, they looked to Cronus for direction. The Lord Father raged and bellowed at the woman, only the strong hands of Iapetus keeping him from leaping on Raet’s retreating back. The rest of the council was in an uproar over the information the woman had imparted and was in turmoil. Seeing no one to guide them, the guards stepped aside and let Raet leave unmolested.
Willenheim met her in the foyer and handed Raet her helmet. The Captain of her escort grinned, seeing the tiny, satisfied smile on her face. “I assume all went well and as planned,” he said while keeping a watchful eye on the Atlantean Aam milling about the huge indoor courtyard.
“Yes,” Raet replied with a nod to the big man. “I do believe we should hasten to our ship and be on our way, though.”