Past the gates and onto the path, that fiery air caused the sweat to soil my hair and neck, and, already fatigued, the idea of entering this rock and rescuing one of its prisoners was more than a little overwhelming. Where would we even start?
Allowing answers to come to him, Kat's only notion was to walk, and that elementary action triggered the expected, but still highly unusual welcoming committee. From a far off opening, an army marched to meet, or greet, us. Seconds later, and with no apparent help, the iron gates sealed shut with a great clash.
"Oh no!" Harmony panicked, running back to pull on the bars.
"Prepare!" declared Kat, aiming his sword at the incoming horde. They numbered in the hundreds, and we could not distinguish one from another. They were, in fact, identical — wearing rough sacks over their heads, with gaping holes where their mouths should be. Also armed with sabres, this parade now formed into two groups, with each lining the edges of the path a mere step from the moat.
Finally, five feet in front of us, and in one rehearsed motion, the two formation lines stamped their feet then faced each other, leaving a condensed path for us in-between.
"Security." I said, disturbed by the calm in me. "The Fortress was expecting us."
Again, the figures stamped their feet — the sound like cannon fire — then in unison, the formations turned their bagged heads to look at us.
"What now?" whimpered Eddinray.
His answer arrived immediately, as the masked many started a bizarre chant.
"Ow-Ow-Ow! Ow-Ow-Ow!"
Like a vibrating drum, the chant alerted prisoners, who appeared as specks of pink at windows dotted over the rock-face.
"Ow-Ow-Ow! Ow-Ow-Ow!"
"Madness!" cried Eddinray, his sword shielding Harmony. "What does it mean?"
The drum grew to tremendous levels, and grinding his teeth harder than usual, Kat raised his proud face to the colossal 9th Fortress.
"Follow me!" he yelled, guiding us now between the chanting army, whose bagged heads followed our footsteps.
"Are they human?" asked Harmony, rattled. "Alien? What?"
"Ow-Ow-Ow!" Ow-Ow-Ow!"
"They are instinct!" Kat answered. "Machines!"
The sky seemed to blacken with the arrival of thunder, and I could sense a curious Devil watching over this spectacle, a gleeful puppet master pulling on strings.
"I hate this." Harmony whispered, shirking from the ghoulish masks and at ease sabres.
Those prisoners at misshaped windows waved their hands at our approach, either tempting us closer or warning us away. None could hear for the drums.
"Ow-Ow-Ow!" Ow-Ow-Ow!"
The path ended at a prominent wooden door with no handle, or obvious way in. Another abrupt stamping of feet came from the formation, and their monotonous chant now ceased. They remained however, in organised position, and the quiet allowed us to hear the prisoners, their whines like a collection of static.
"2020!" I exclaimed. "We find him… and get the hell out!"
Without warning, the wooden door began to drop — the sound of sliding chains coming from the other side.
"What monster awaits?" cried the knight.
Chains ticked like an ominous countdown, and soon the door was brought down with a hefty slam, covering us over in ancient dust.
When our eyes and throats were clear of it, there was no booby trap or monster, but an arched doorway on the face of the tower, with steps inside, leading upward.
Expecting a fight, we gripped weapons and each other. The tumultuous prisoners suddenly calmed above us, as an important figure now appeared at the doorway. Teased by inner darkness, he was watching us there. Just…watching.
"Who are you?" I yelled, wet with nerves. "Show yourself!"
As instructed, and immediately, a portly man stepped out from the dark and into our sight. He was shorter than average, with boyish features spread over a chubby, middle-aged face. He had a wavy curl of bold black hair on his forehead, and his eyelashes appeared to be scored with the same colour. A grey overcoat fell to his heels, and underneath that, I could make out a white uniform of some kind.
"I am the warden of this facility," he said, a hint of French about his accent. "I bid you all a warm welcome."
"Very warm." said Eddinray, face flushed. "By God sir, what sort of reception do you call this?"
The man was un-phased by our odd-looking ensemble; if anything, he looked pleased by our presence.
"The reception awaits upstairs." he said, tossing a cigarette into the moat. "Your journey is the worst kept secret in Hell. You certainly took your time about it."
Carefully, I offered him my short sword as a show of co-operation, but he refused the gesture with a pithy wave. "Please. I have no use for your little weapons, nor do I need to confiscate them. Unless…you give me reason to?"
"No reason." I said, putting my sword away. "None at all."
I was relieved not to have give up my dagger again; Kat was also content to have his katana with him at all times.
Eddinray was the only one who did not lower his sword. He was too distracted by Harmony, and the pear-shaped tear shimmering down her face. "My dear?" he stuttered. "Do not be afraid of this man!"
The angel spilled more tears without explanation, then masked her face with her hands.
"It's been a long time Harmony." the warden said. "A very…long time."
37. The Little Emperor
Arms strung around her stomach, Harmony remained tight lipped as we trailed the warden into his Fortress. "Put your friends out of their misery." the warden insisted, his palm grazing a scantly lit wall. "Put their minds at ease Harmony."
She said nothing, and neither did the rest of us as we ascended a gloomy staircase. I sympathized with Kat, who scraped his fingers off stone like an agitated gorilla. In a matter of minutes we had lost all control. An unknown factor called fate was in charge now, and our friend Harmony Valour, played some part in its plan.
After twenty or so steps, we reached the damp first floor of the 9th Fortress. I was pleased with the lack of light, it prevented me from seeing the bodies of those I heard scurry about, not far from us.
"Do not be alarmed." said the short warden. "The night creatures feast only on prisoners of my choosing."
I shuddered at the thought as we arrived at an open elevator of some kind. One sabre-wielding hood stood on guard beside it — his body perfectly rigid, but his breathing sounding heavy under the mask.
A bleak corridor curved away from the elevator, and spread along that wall was steel door after steel door — all of them closed, but none were fitted with handles or even locks. I moved with the warden into the cold elevator, so was first to be held back by his hand. "Do not open any door without authorization." he said, seriously. "I sense curiosity here. Never satisfy it. The cost will be your own sanity."
Malevolence was an easy to thing to spot after spending time with likes of Kat, and it was written all over the wardens' podgy face now. I gave an understanding nod, and then I entered the elevator with him. Kat pressed himself in beside me, with hawkish eyes searching for exits, or the possibility of making his own.
Once we where all inside, the doors slammed shut, then a dazzling weld instantly melted a seal down the centre of the doors. "Is that natural?" I asked the warden, averting my face from the uncomfortable light.
"Take the stairs if you wish?" he returned, amused.
"Where are we going?" asked Kat.
"Express." he answered, ogling Harmony's neckline. "To the very top."
Then, without pressing a button, the sturdy elevator began to vibrate, causing a tickling sensation to run up the legs. Energy was gathering underneath us, and before I could ask, the elevator exploded off the ground floor, like a shuttle leaving the launch pad.
Speed was not as fast as the locomotive, but there was an uncomplicated rawness to this machine. Every floor we raced past, we heard the smashing of metal. I counted thirty-three strikes before losing count, unt
il it was simply a battering ram of sound beyond the centre weld.
The warden appeared calm throughout, bored even and hardly flinched when gas shot out from vents in the corners. I was reminded of one of those rickety old horror houses, with recorded screams playing loops in the background. It was all too strange to understand, and all too real to be fun.
A sudden jolt bounced us two inches from the floor and our stomachs even higher. The ride was over, but before butterflies had a chance to settle, the doors sprang open, and the smell of burning firewood replaced that of burning brakes.
"My quarters." said the warden, stepping into his room and flapping away all the accumulated gas.
Carefully, I wandered in. This was the top of the world — an elaborate office with a Gothic interior, slick black floors and a polished oak desk as its centrepiece. The burning smell came from the homely looking fireplace, cut into one entire wall, its crackling fire blades taller than anyone here. Near this hung a framed map of old earth, with France painted over in rich gold leaf. A window dominated most of the penthouse, providing a gob-smacking view of a realm so skewed, and so beyond comprehension. The late dusk sky was severely toasted, and I saw no birds flutter there tonight, only the black angels delivering their payloads. My attention was brought back to the penthouse by the jangling beads of a crystal chandelier above the desk. Lastly, opposite the window, was a hefty dinner table displaying platters of colurful food fit for any appetite. "Help yourself." the warden said, throwing his heavy looking overcoat over a velvet sofa. "Come in. Come! Come!"
I got a good look at his uniform now and snickered. I still wasn't used to seeing someone looking so old fashioned; like Sir Isaac Newton, the warden appeared quite comfortable in black boots to the knees, figure hugging white cotton pants and a waistcoat holding in his barrel of a belly.
All free from the steaming elevator, its doors shut, and we heard it clatter back down the shaft. I recoiled upon noticing a guard beside the welded doors. Not another masked hood, but a man of bronze from top to bottom, his face polished on the outside and seemingly hollow on the inside; a fifteen foot titan endowed with brutal strength, boulder brown shoulders, bulging copper arms and a thick sword in his hard hands.
"Impressive statue." said Kat.
"No statue." tittered the warden, and sure enough, Kat recoiled the instant he felt the heat of that statues exhaling breath.
"For my protection." the warden added, combing back his fringe. "My position here requires the most effective security. Hardly the Grande Armée, but you will find none more persuasive than my man of bronze. Please, the food on the table is delicious and perfectly safe to eat."
"How long have you been expecting us?" I asked him, on edge.
The warden pushed back the chair to sit at his desk. He then crossed his little legs and lit a smoke from a silver cigarette case. "The very moment you descended into the depths." he answered, lingering on the puff. "Souls who enter Hell are thoroughly scanned and their presence made known to those who have an interest, be it past enemies or old acquaintances. Your intention was to come to my Fortress, I was therefore informed."
Intrigued, Harmony selected an orange from the table, and then shyly observed the warden at his desk.
"You've lost weight." she said. "Some, I suppose."
I shared disappointed glances with Kat. Had our whiter than white friend betrayed us? I couldn't believe it. With the cigarette stick hanging between his lips, the warden left the desk and approached Harmony — his small eyes squinting at her blotched right arm.
"Did I not send you the poet?" he hissed, standing from his seat to direct his anger at me. "Well?"
Confused, I recalled the ghost above the labyrinth, the slight young-man who gave us a barrel of overflowing water for our thirst, advice to escape the maze, and the door to take at the end of it.
"You sent him for us?" I asked.
"Of course!" he exclaimed, furious. "Virgil's role is to support the warden of the 9th Fortress, and that support was at your disposal!"
Presently, as if by some unheard command, the transparent blonde-haired poet joined us in the penthouse.
"How are you?" he asked me, sincerely.
I looked at him with an empty mind. It had been a very long time since the twists and turns of the labyrinth, with its treacherous Wisp and starving rats.
"Virgil's guidance was there whenever you required it." the warden explained. "If you had only called his name he would have come to your aid at any-time — at any time! There was no need to wander through fields, to meander with mutineers; and certainly no need for this angel's arm to be in such condition!"
"Excuse me!" Harmony interrupted him; "I refused take the healing liquid offered to me. If anything, you should be thanking my friends for bringing me to you."
"How do you know each other?" cried Eddinray, unable to contain his jealousy. "Why Harmony? What does this mean?"
The angel lowered a shameful face.
"Sit down!" snipped the warden. "Stupid Englishman! Can't you see you're upsetting her? The past has clearly overwhelmed my angel. The shock was inevitable of course, but deep down I'm sure she knew all along that it was I beckoning her here."
"I suspected." she mumbled back. "Nothing more than that."
"Why did you want us here so urgently?" I asked him, patting a supporting hand on Eddinray's shoulder.
"I wanted you here for one reason alone," he snootily replied, stubbing out his cigarette on the chest of his bronze swordsman. "I needed to see the face of Harmony Valour. The rest of you were tools to that end."
"Who are you?" I said, totally confused.
"In my time," he started, "I have fought over sixty battles and learnt nothing which I did not know at the beginning. Immune to warfare, killer of kings and conqueror of continents, the continuous fight was my destiny. My name is Napoleon Bonaparte — Emperor and master of France."
I gawked back, his chubby face now so obvious. This was not some vague portrait from a history book, but the very man sharing the same air as us. The idea, like the food, was hard to swallow.
"Now proud warden of the 9th Fortress," he added, "no other deserves, or fulfils the duties of this office more than I."
"You service the devil." said Harmony, her expression hard and voice bitter.
"I service myself!" he corrected. "But…" he suddenly giggled, "What woman could understand an Emperor's burden? They are merely a charming decoration, and none more decorative than you Harmony."
He came to part the hair from Harmony's eyes, causing Eddinray to grasp his chest in pain. Meanwhile, a melancholic Virgil floated harmlessly amongst us, and I regarded him as an ally for the time being.
Still commanding attention, Napoleon picked a banana from a fruit-bowl and took great care in peeling it.
"How do you know Harmony?" I asked him, losing patience. "What are you two involved in?"
"She was my life support." he answered, taking a greedy bite of his banana. "My angel soul-mate. That is the extent of our involvement."
His bombshell sent a thick and silent stink through the penthouse. Harmony was his life-support, and immediately I understood the unbreakable bond between them.
"My great earthly crime apparently," he added, aggrieved, "was to relish the strategy of the battlefield and take pleasure in victory."
"It was more than pleasure!" exclaimed Harmony, bitterly. "Yours was an obsession for power Napoleon ¬— to win at any cost! You were a cold hearted monster, a despot who dragged thousands to oblivion with you."
She spasmed with fear when Napoleon erupted, tipping the food table over in a rage. "Do not dare judge me!" he roared. "Wasn't it you, angel, who whispered encouragement into my ear? Your words inspired my desire for that glory, and your hand guided me to every battlefield."
"I hadn't an ounce of control or influence over your actions!" she cried and moaned."Your life was yours and you are to blame for it!"
"Your God disagrees!” he returned, moc
king her. "Your influence expelled me from France and you from Heaven. They knew, as I do, that you were in awe of me life support, and that awe is the very reason for the clamp binding your wings, and why you grace my Fortress tonight. You are responsible for my decent, as I am responsible for yours."
"Let her be!" yelled Eddinray, rushing to her. Quickly, Napoleon intervened, pushing Eddinray to the ground and daring him to retaliate. "Don't ever touch her Englishman! Don't you ever! Your pathetic little island was the death of me, and my memory has not for —"
A katana pressing against Napoleon's larynges immediately stifled voice.
"Emotional…" Napoleon chocked, and raising his fingers, he clicked them to stir the bronze man into motion. Joints grinding, it stamped toward me, then held its barbaric sword over my skull.
Kat grimaced, as if tasting sick on his tongue. "Samurai," said Napoleon, grinning; "my friend will remove his head without thought or effort; and no matter what indifferent façade you may show on the outside, your insides definitely do not want that."
"Put down the sword Kat." I said, feeling a chill from that bronze man. "We can't fight everything."
Resigned, Kat lowered his weapon, and the warden smiled. "I am in charge of this situation." he stated, ordering his man away from me. "You do not come to one’s home and spit on their floor. I invited you people to the hospitality of my penthouse, not the cells below it. Previous wardens would not have been so charitable. Enjoy it! Why not take in the splendid sight of my domain? Come feast your eyes!"
"We've seen plenty." I said, as he went to look over this kingdom.
"It is magnificent." he rasped, releasing a satisfied exhale. "This view never fails to stir me. The glory. The power. My God."
"I am sorry." whispered Harmony, walking to her far fallen individual. "How could I have failed you so terribly?"
"Fail me angel? Can't you see that I am above everything? I am in Heaven."
"You are the regret of my life," she said, wobbly on her feet. "The regret of my life."
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