The Gift of Volkeye

by Marque Strickland

  Meanwhile, Teshunua had been taking different children for rides all over the complex. Whilst they sat upon his back, he rapidly scaled the walls and rooftop of the Igloo. While atop the building, he and the kids could see Lyn Sha soar above them with the smallest children on her back, landing on the other side of the complex.

  Khyeryn had a large group of about fifty or sixty behind him, watching as he demolished a boulder. He held back, firing slowly as he worked his way down, so they could enjoy it as long as possible. Finally, the rock was destroyed, and he was showered with applause. Khyeryn turned to greet the new groups of people flocking to him, and he transformed his arm several times for their pleasure. Then he started on a new rock…and then another… By the time Khyeryn had blown up a dozen boulders, it had gotten a little old, and he retired indoors along with the others.

  After a few hours of this type of meet-and-greet for the family, Belch and Zynathian realized it was time to get down to business. They called a meeting over the intercom. Now the entire Igloo (men, women, children, and beasts alike) was in a huge banquet hall. Presently the room was minus its tables, so they were able to fit everyone. Zynathian and family sat in the center of the room, completely arresting the crowd’s attention. Zynathian addressed them all.

  “First off, let me say that I’m deeply sorry to any of you who’ve lost your homes, loved ones, or both to Phyllamon in some way. He’s the reason I’ve called you all here…to protect you. I’m sorry that I can’t do the same for your homes, as I know that many of you hope to see them again. You should know,” he paused, trying to think of how best to break the news, “the chances of you all being able to return to your homes is very slim indeed.”

  The sighing and pacing began. People walked about muttering to themselves, and several voices called out.

  “Why?”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I know this, because I have a very well-placed spy in Castle Xyecah, monitoring Phyllamon’s actions. I’ve heard these words from his very mouth. He aims to burn the homes of the Trio to the ground, then to destroy Mashyuvah, brick-by-brick, but not before executing every hostage within the city.”

  “Then we leave right now and free them!” one of those from Rhameeryla shouted, brandishing his pistol. His statement was followed with cheers of approval.

  Asha waved her hand, dismissing this.

  “We have the Castle monitored, not Mashyuvah. We don’t know what we’re dealing with there. For all you know, you could be running into a much bigger problem than you’re capable of handling, remember that. Our best bet is to meet Phyllamon and his army head on, the day they decide to storm the city and the Trio. If we can surprise them, perhaps we’ll win the battle, and then we can see to the hostages in Mashyuvah,” she said, revealing a detail that no one outside the family had been aware of till now.

  “What army has he got?” someone asked.

  “A very powerful one.” Zynathian squeezed Asha’s arm to be sure that she took care to not inform them about the type of soldiers they’d be fighting…not yet at least. “The problem is, even with our fighters from Rhameeryla, we haven’t a large enough mass to face Phyllamon yet. I’m very sorry to have to put you all in this position, but these are grave times. We must have the help of every able-bodied person, who has the tiniest hint of a warrior within them!”

  “I would, but I’m too old!” a woman in her nineties said.

  “I’m pregnant…I’m no fighter!”

  “One of his Karnovs already took my arm…you want me to give Phyllamon my head next, is that it?”

  “I’ll fight!”

  “I won’t…I didn’t sign up for this shit!”

  This bickering went on for several minutes, until a large man stumbled his way into the middle of the floor, capturing everyone’s attention as he waved about his mug of beer.

  “I am no warrior. I’m merely a drunk and a sex machine, but my boys are soldiers! Every last one of them began serving in the military at age fourteen,” the man said, grinning. “If you wish it, they’re at your service, Zynathian Volkeye, god amongst us men!”

  Zynathian’s eyes widened, as he looked this man over, reliving the past for the second time this day. “Peenuhs! Peenuhs Dickery!” Zynathian shouted with excitement. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, my wife and I eventually settled in Mashyuvah, and I’m sure you know the rest.”

  “Bless you, man…where are these sons of yours?”

  “Boys!” Peenuhs called. A uniformed line of ten men stormed in as the shield let up. It was as if they’d waited to make exactly this type of entrance. They stopped at attention directly in front of their father. “Introduce yourselves.”

  “Seth.”

  “Sedrick.”

  “Sonny.”

  “Simayel.”

  “Simion.”

  “Siral.”

  “Sowng.”

  “Serum.”

  “Samson.”

  “Samuel.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Zynathian said, turning around to the massive crowd, hoping to set an example of courage. “Everyone…Peenuhs Dickery and sons!”

  Peenuhs received nothing but snickers.

  “Laugh at my name, if you will…it’s been happening all my life. But know this, I have an instrument betwixt my thighs that will put all you men to shame! You, who won’t even fight for your homes and future generations of children; you dare call yourselves ‘men?’ Bah! Pathetic, all of you! All Zynathian asks is for you to have courage…is this so hard? He had the same amount of courage for you, if not ten times more, to risk his life and the lives of his family to bring you here safely. Can you give nothing in return? You should all be ashamed of yourselves! I’m disgusted with the whole lot of you, and I’m the one who’s the drunk! Ironic, eh?”

  Peenuhs waved his hand at all of them and then beckoned his wife, who was standing against the wall.

  “Daphnie, come. Boys,” he said, looking all ten of them sternly in the eye, “you’ll do whatever this man asks, ya’ hear me? He’s the only reason you all exist. I won’t get into the details, but know right now that you all owe him your lives. Understood?”

  They nodded.

  “Good.”

  As Daphnie and Peenuhs left the banquet hall, Zynathian turned to look at the fine young men before him. The oldest was twenty-seven years of age, with thirteen years of military training, and the youngest was eighteen years old, with four. People like them could make all the difference in the upcoming battle.

  “Your help is much appreciated,” Zynathian said, shaking all of their hands. He then turned to face the rest of the crowd.

  “All of you, who are willing to help, come forward and meet with me. Tomorrow we’ll get you set up with weapons and start some intensive training. That, I’m certain these fine young lads will know how to conduct much better than me,” Zynathian said, implying that the Dickery boys could run the whole show if they liked. Each of them seemed quite pleased at the prospect.

  Nicolas, Rosa Lee, and Rufus, along with those who’d already fought in Rhameeryla, came forward. Then, to Zynathian’s surprise, came others—a great many. Although Peenuhs was a drunk, his speech had obviously been the very thing they needed to hear. From the sheer number of people crowding him, Zynathian guessed that they’d at least be able to match the number of Phyllamon’s army.

  But will that be enough?

  If Phyllamon’s troops got close enough, they’d likely cut them to pieces, ten at a time! They themselves only had three with such power: Khyeryn, Lyn Sha, and Teshunua. Zynathian knew then that there was no way they’d be able to match the brute strength of the force Phyllamon was bringing.

  If we’re to win, we must outsmart them.

  Zynathian’s stomach churned with nausea at the fact that he hadn’t yet conceived a real plan beyond this point. However, he knew that all was not lost. If life had taught him anything thus far, it was the fact that there w
as no weapon as powerful as the human mind.

  XXVII

  Murlach’s Error Becomes Zynathian’s Hope

  1

  Sure enough, it was about three weeks and four days later when Murlach burst into Phyllamon’s study. “Master, we’re ready!” he said, eagerly. “Come and see this glorious army of yours!”

  Phyllamon had left Murlach to his work for almost a month, completely trusting him with the process. During this time, he’d mostly been alone, thinking about how he would handle the hostages in Mashyuvah. Just recently he’d decided to spare a few of their lives. He knew that witnessing the murder of their loved ones wouldn’t be an act that went unmentioned. They would undoubtedly flee somewhere on the other side of the Mashyuvian Ocean, and the story would travel with them, enabling Phyllamon to control people through fear. Yes, some of the hostages would have to be spared.

  Zephranie, however, put up a nasty fuss about this, for she hadn’t murdered in ages and was adamant that every single one of them die by her hand. Besides, after seeing her house burned to ashes, she was aching for bloodshed, and it would be all the better if it came from people that Zynathian cared about. As Phyllamon followed Murlach, he prepared himself for another argument with Zephranie, because she’d been nagging him constantly over the last couple of weeks, as to when she’d get to do her deed in Mashyuvah.

  After getting their winter garments on, they went out the giant oak doors in the front hall to the frosted-over, flowerless garden. Phyllamon was shocked at the spectacle. Seeing one large beast armed with Zynathian’s weapon was one thing, but seeing about two hundred of them was something else! The most magnificent of them all stood off to the side, pacing about. Phyllamon’s mouth fell open as he gazed at Zu. Vlajdimir and Zephranie had gone over to stare as well.

  “Splendid, aren’t I?” he asked Zephranie and Vlajdimir in an unusually articulate fashion. It was rare for them to come into contact with beasts in the castle that were more than mere brutes. He impressed them. Zu fired off a few rounds in the air and watched the middle of the weapon spin around its axle. It mesmerized him like it would a child.

  “Splendid indeed,” Zephranie replied. “I shall be anxious to hear of what you accomplish on the battlefield!”

  Zephranie turned and found Phyllamon inspecting the rest of his army.

  “Excellent job, Murlach! How many?” he asked.

  “One-hundred-ninety-three, the last I counted, master. Enough?” Murlach asked with pride.

  Phyllamon grinned, nodding. “We’re going to crush them!” he said, glancing at Zu once more. “You’ll annihilate them, won’t you, Zu?”

  “Looking forward to it, Master. I owe them for that little mishap in the last assault!” he roared. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be retiring to think on my battle tactics…and don’t worry, Master, we can handle the walk,” Zu yelled over his shoulder as he started back towards the castle.

  The walk? Phyllamon thought to himself, waving Murlach over. “What’s this about a walk?”

  “He means exactly what he said, Master. Don’t worry, you and I don’t have to go on foot, as I did save a few small hovers for emergencies.”

  As Phyllamon scratched his head, unibrow furrowing, Murlach began to wonder if he’d made a gross error. “You did tell me I could use every available piece of metal to complete the weapons, did you not?” he asked, looking to the floor.

  “YOU SCRAPPED ALL OUR VEHICLES?!”

  “…and melted them down...along with the majority of the castle’s silverware,” he answered nervously. “But look at the weapons we’ve made! Was it not worth it?”

  “Murlach, Murlach, Murlach…I expect you to have more common sense than this! Damn it, I knew it was a mistake to not check in on you!”

  “Without it, Sire, we wouldn’t have two thirds of the soldiers we have now. I plain and simply didn’t have a sufficient amount of materials,” he said, shrugging. “You’re rich…why not buy new ones?”

  Phyllamon sighed. “Because, unlike small hovers, combat vehicles are much more difficult to find on short notice, fool! What if the soldiers need to retreat for some reason?”

  “It’s unlikely that such a force will be defeated, Master…especially with Zu and our aerial attackers.”

  “We have some that fly?”

  “Yes, but they’re skinny little things. Even though I made their weapons much smaller, they’re still having a difficult time adapting to them. However, they’ll soon be ready, as I completed their operation over three weeks ago, and they’ve been resting since.”

  Though pleased with these newly mentioned aerial soldiers, Phyllamon remained quiet a moment, still coming to grips with what Murlach had done.

  All he had to do was come to me and say…but nooooo! he thought, sighing. Alas, Murlach will be Murlach.

  “Your error is forgiven as long as you think they can handle the walk. You do realize it’s at least thirty five to forty miles to Rhylix—the northern most town in the Trio—but that’s only after they’ve trudged through the dense Forest of Saint Marcleese! That bit would be a much easier task for them if we had air vessels, but seeing as we don’t…”

  “It will be fine, Master,” Murlach said with more than a hint of irritation.

  Phyllamon rolled his eyes and looked to the trees. For a moment, he could’ve sworn he saw a strange cat leering at him from behind some branches. However, when he blinked it was gone. He thought a shadow must’ve deceived him.

  “All right, it looks like we’re set,” Phyllamon said.

  “And what of me and Vlajdimir?” Zephranie asked.

  “On that day, you, Vlajdimir, go back to your ruin of a house and search it for the safe you kept your precious Arhyz in. If I have to hear you pout over that safe once more, I’ll lose my mind. I’d rather have you locate it and discover the nature of its contents, for better or worse, than listen to you whine over your piddly fortune!” Phyllamon snapped, turning to Zephranie.

  “You, Zephranie, will handle your business in Mashyuvah, letting a few of them go as we discussed. Make sure the hostages you free are young, healthy, and not likely to die of anything while spreading the word about me.”

  Phyllamon turned back to the castle.

  “We march at dawn, in three days time!”

  2

  They’re going to be on foot! That’s it! Zynathian thought.

  For weeks now, he’d stretched his brain thin, trying to devise a manner in which to come at Phyllamon. Now he had an idea. Zynathian exited the Igloo’s Main Control and rushed to converse with the Dickery boys and the other fighters. Asha, however, remained behind a moment staring at the screen.

  Zynathian had bounced the signal from their home in the clouds all the way down here. This way they could still monitor Castle Xyecah, as they desperately searched for a means by which to fight Phyllamon. Their surveillance was round the clock. All those who didn’t want to fight but still desired to help in some fashion, were individually stationed at the monitor in four-hour shifts, reporting anything out of the ordinary. Asha often went in, pretending to check on them, but that really wasn’t the reason for her visits. She wanted to get a better look at the woman she’d not seen in over twenty years…not since she’d sent her sailing across a desktop with busted lips and a partially swollen jaw!

  This had been bothering Asha ever since Jix started capturing Vlajd and Zephranie on camera. Though she’d replayed the event a countless amount of times in her mind over the years, she’d never given much thought to Zephranie’s appearance. However, now that Asha was seeing her again, it was absolutely frightening how much Zephranie and Bahzee looked alike! They were identical down to the last detail, the only difference being that Zephranie had a worn out, sickly look to her, while Bahzee’s face was healthy and colourful.

  Despite the manner in which she’d found Bahzee, Asha knew there was no way in hell her daughter could’ve come from this woman’s womb. It was impossible!

  It’s nothing
more than a freak coincidence, she thought, running from the control room to catch up with Zynathian. Asha found him in a heated conversation with the oldest Dickery boy. The rest of the family and all the other fighters listened intently, weighing the pros and cons.

  “Why don’t we just attack him at the castle and take him by surprise?” Seth asked.

  “No, Seth, we’d be the ones caught by surprise. We know for sure that Phyllamon has two of the blasters outdoors, but who knows whether or not Jix has missed anything? Bless his heart, but he can’t do everything…he’s kept his eyes mostly on Phyllamon and those close to him, but not the surroundings! We could be running into a dozen of those guns, all of them manned and ready to cut us to pieces! Our best bet is to let them run smack into us, catching them off guard!”

  “Where then?”

  “We’ll take them at Saint Marcleese,” Zynathian answered.

  The other Dickery boys shook their heads with approval. Seth rubbed his chin, thinking on it.

  “And our cover will be the trees. When they get close enough, thinking they’re about to enter the forest unharmed, we let loose on them!” Seth grinned. “It’s an excellent idea, Zynathian. Are you sure you were never a soldier?”

  Zynathian just grinned at him. “Not technically a soldier…but I never said that I hadn’t fought any battles before,” he said, thinking of his past. “There is much that you all don’t know about me. Perhaps I’ll tell you some of my stories if I live through the weekend,” he said.

  The family gazed at him, wanting to hear more but knew it wasn’t the time.

  “Uncle, what are we going to do about this Zu?” Teshunua asked.

  “Yeah, that one has got me right scared, I tell you,” Rufus said, fidgeting in his hoverchair, “I shot him numerous times, and I couldn’t take him down!”