by Ava D. Dohn
* * *
The remainder of the journey back to Palace City was rather quiet. Crilen added other details about the Prisoner Exchange. He also went to some length explaining how he came about being permanently assigned to the Shikkeron as midshipman and his increase in rank to first leftenant. Chesse told about her escapades with Ishtar and the duoreachees. Zadar remained politely quiet, silently absorbed in private thought.
After arriving back in the city, an argument ensued between Zadar and Crilen as to who would escort their traveling companion to dinner. It was finally settled by Chesse that both men could. So, with two fellows at her side, the trio sauntered toward the Northern Concourse entrance.
Chesse had obtained another blouse while at Diamond Ridge, silky sheer and billowy with some frills down the front and at the end of its long sleeves. The woman was truly a sight to behold! She was of medium build, buxom, brown-skinned, winter-white hair, with an oval face sporting delicate features. Shoulders back and with dignity she walked, her long years as a former officer in the Children’s Army showing in her every step. It was no wonder that her two companions had vied for her attention, a rose surrounded by, well, you know...
The banquet hall where dinner was being held was one floor up from the main concourse level, not far from the north entrance. There was already a rather large crowd gathered by the time the trio arrived. This appeared to be quite a formal affair, being attended by some of the Empires’ most important officers and dignitaries. Seats were assigned, with attendants ushering each new arrival to his or her respective place.
A smartly dressed hostess approached the company, addressing the woman, asking, “ChasileahUUnooNiemie?” Surprised, Chesse acknowledged her name. “This way, please.” The hostess smiled, extending a hand to guide her guest to a seat.
The banquet tables for this formal dinner were arranged in long, narrow rows so that groups of about sixteen would be seated together. This design was usually chosen to encourage several small conversations among the guests rather than have the entire table absorbed in a large one. It was also orchestrated for the guests to be seated immediately. Waiters would descend upon the people, requesting their choice of drinks and nibbles, and then quickly return, assuring that the people would not get up and wander.
The dining hall, though, was already filled with pleasant chatter from dozens of ongoing conversations. ‘Quiet but comfortable’, that was what this kind of gathering was often described as. A formal occasion, but relaxed, possibly a mixer of sorts, a selective mixer where specific groups were chosen in advance. In this manner, guests could look about the banquet hall to see the many faces to find out who was there, while at the same time steal away in pleasant discussion with only one or two at their table.
After the formal dinner was finished and any speeches made, finger-food desserts would often be delivered on large carts near the center of the hall. Minstrels or a small orchestra might begin playing sweet, musical refrains in the background, chairs and tables moved aside, clearing the floor of their clutter. Wine and other drink would be made available by waiters scurrying about. There was usually no ending hour, the crowd gradually thinning until only the staff remained to tidy things up.
At least this was the way since the Rebellion ended the festivals. The formal banquet had replaced them in a way. One could be arranged at any time and for any reason. It might be a small affair with only a dozen or so participants, or there might be thousands, which was rare. A formal event was far different from other, more casual festivities, the primary difference being the control the host exercised. Seats were assigned to encourage a pairing up of certain people, the host specifically wanting them to become better acquainted. The after-dinner dessert permitted guests opportunity to mingle and seek out specific individuals for conversation.
When Chesse realized this was a formal occasion, she became uncomfortable, regretting accepting Trisha’s invitation. Now there was little to do but follow the hostess. She sighed relief at seeing that her table was off to the side of the hall, away from where the most important guests were supposed to be seated. The hostess ushered her to a corner seat next to the head of the table, pulling out the chair and assisting her.
After a waiter had hurried away to bring the drink and appetizers, Chesse looked about at the others already arrived at her table, and then scanned the room. Many she knew, several from her military days. A large number of guests were neatly attired in the finery of Army dress. There were a few from the Navy, a smattering of Marines, and the occasional ones dressed in uniforms unfamiliar to her. Then there were the dignitaries, some clothed in little more than a scant ribbon or two, such as Tashi, the governor of Exothepobole, compared to Ardon, who was fully robed in purple splendor of state.
There were also others dressed more as Chesse was, simple fare, or nothing at all other than some painted accents and hair ornaments. Indeed, Chesse’s blouse was little more than ornamentation, its sheer, billowy cloth leaving nothing to the imagination. That was often true for most of the guests, other than the people in uniform. Revealing or suggestive military attire was generally frowned upon. Regalia did not make for a formal event. It was entirely based on the protocol implemented by the host.
Chesse struck up a quiet conversation with an officer on her left, asking if he knew what this banquet might be all about. The officer sat his mug of simmering tea down, and folded his hands on resting elbows. “Well…” He slowly swept his eyes around the hall. “The smell of coming war is stirring the blood of many of our old veterans. Most of us feel that what’s coming is going to be the big one, bigger than the Great War. Searching for old comrades and seeking out former commanders is on many a mind. I believe our leaders are busy doing the same, gathering the vultures for the coming blood feast.”
“So you believe that is the reason we’ve been invited here, to gather the crows for war?” Chesse asked, somewhat concerned.
The officer turned to make reply, studying the woman beside him. Something about her was familiar. They had met before, but where and when? He offered a hand, “Braiden, BraidenChuuShon, 4th Tennyion Mobile Artillery, one of the few artillery units to be retained for active duty after the Armistice.”
Politely accepting Braiden’s inviting gesture, Chesse remarked having some recollection of that unit. “Served gallantly, as I recall...”
Braiden thanked her, adding, “Yep, we held the northern ridge covering the retreat of our infantry during the Battle of Bauglow. Took heavy losses holding the line, but managed an orderly withdraw, keeping all our guns. Later we took part in the Battle of the Tower Gate. Were the last to leave the field that day, I the sole surviving officer in my company.”
He then commented, asking. “I should know you. You are?”
Chesse hesitated, finely replying, “ChasileahUUnooNiemie, I work with the Postal.”
“A pleasure to meet you, but…” Braiden peered into Chesse’s face. “but I’ve seen you somewhere in the past. Were you ever in the military?”
Chesse’s face clouded as she looked down at the table. “Yes…I was.”
“Were you at Memphis?”
This was the most feared and dreaded question Chesse could imagine. She took no pride in her conduct in that battle, was ashamed at the murder of those under her command. She had been their officer in charge. She had led them to their deaths, and she had lived. It was not fair! She had lived...
“Yes.” Chesse answered in little above a whisper.
Braiden silently nodded, finally remembering where he had seen the woman. He assisted the litter bearers the day following the Battle of Bauglow. This woman, a colonel, torn, shattered, and barely alive, he helped deliver to the ambulances. He was pleased to find out Chesse survived, but could see how badly the war had damaged her.
Chesse turned to look at Braiden, her eyes distraught.
Braiden smiled, lifting his mug. “Well, ChasileahUU
nooNiemie with the Postal, it’s good to meet your acquaintance.”
Chesse and Braiden continued on with some small banter, inviting a newly seated guest into the conversation. All the while, Chesse watched for familiar faces as the room filled. Euroaquilo arrived arm in arm with Sarah, the woman dressed in one of those mysterious, bright-white uniforms. The cut of the jacket and the decorative braid indicated to Chesse that Sarah was an officer of high rank, something Zadar failed to mention during their earlier introduction.
All eyes were focused on the woman as she and Euroaquilo were led to their table. Silence was quickly followed by quiet whispers and occasional glances. Most believed her to be an Off-worlder, but who she was and how long she had been here was the mystery. She matched Euroaquilo in height and stride, her beauty of equal grandeur. Many a man and more than a few of the women lingered with their gaze, basking in visual delights that stirred other more carnal desires.
Just before the seventh evening hour, Trisha joined the company, several other distinguished guests including Mihai and Anna arriving just before her. Everyone stood and applauded to welcome Mihai. Crimson-faced with embarrassment from what she considered uncalled for attention, Mihai never the less graciously thanked them for their kindness. She then requested they all sit, stating that she was but a guest in another’s house this night. Pointing at Trisha, who had just entered, she declared their host should receive all the accolades.
Again, everyone stood and offered Trisha the same salutation as Mihai received. Trisha also was embarrassed by the fanfare, encouraging everyone to sit. Stepping into the middle of the room, she thanked everyone for coming, adding that dinner was now to be served. After some informal introductions, Trisha invited them to stay for dessert to get better acquainted or reacquainted. She then stepped out of the center of the room and into the shadows.
In only moments, the room was filled with the noisy bustle of fiery waiters delivering the first course. A fine dinner it was too, green salads, smoked salmon over wild rice, sweet breads, cheeses, steamed and raw vegetables, along with a variety of fresh fruits. Trays brimming with mouthwatering delights lined the middle of every table so that all the people had to do was reach and take whatever they wished. As soon as a platter became empty, a new one would take its place. Everyone ate to satisfaction, but few to the point of fullness, for there were those many desserts yet to enjoy.
Attendants were busy at Chesse’s table when Trisha appeared. She offered her greetings then sat down at its head, beside Chesse. Such a charming host, she offered little time for the surprised woman to react, beginning a lively conversation with the four people seated in close proximity to her. In time, there was pleasant merrymaking, the telling of some fanciful stories, an occasional riddle and, of course, discussion regarding the Prisoner Exchange.
Chesse discovered that Braiden was a major in the regulars - the permanent branch of the military that remained enlisted after the Great War ended. He was a kindly person, smart, and also full of opinions that he was more than willing to express. Still, he only thought of them as opinions, once saying, “There are two types of people in this world: those with opinions and those who are always right. I hope to only have opinions.”
The dinner hour was truly enjoyable for Chesse. Trisha made sure her guests were entertained and well fed. A little after eight of the evening hour, Mihai was invited to speak, keeping her remarks brief, recognizing that she stood between her audience and dessert. Tables and chairs were quickly removed, dessert and drink carts delivered, and the orchestra set to play. Trisha then asked Chesse if she would care to share with her in a glass of wine, which Chesse graciously accepted.
As the two women stood listening to the music, Zadar approached them, begging his leave. After kissing them both and hugging Trisha, he warned that his duties might take him away for the night. Trisha kissed Zadar with longing, asking for his swift return. Off he was in a rush, waving his goodbyes.
No sooner was he departed than Crilen stopped to say his goodnights. He introduced them to his companion. “Perhaps you know Ilanit, attendant to the council, Lady Anna’s attaché?”
Chesse knew of Ilanit, but the two had never met. Trisha did not, so took the time for a little banter. After a few minutes, Crilen and Ilanit were off on further adventures of their making. Trisha turned to Chesse, recommending they also go. “I have need for a moot with you this night, someplace a little more private. Will you come?”
Chesse did not like the sound of things. She knew Trisha’s invitation came with strings, but didn’t realize how many until arriving at the banquet hall. There was something up with the field marshal, but what? Curiosity gnawed at her, and the only way she was going to satisfy that beast was to go with Trisha. She also had no desire to offend such a gracious host. An invitation like this should be accepted if at all possible. She had no excuse. Honoring Trisha’s request, the two women quickly left the gathering.
To Chesse’s surprise, there was a carriage awaiting them outside. In twenty minutes, they were entering the lower stairway to the South Palace Wall Tower. Although it was nearly the ninth evening hour, the sun had only recently set behind the western hills. A soft, southerly breeze greeted them as they exited the lower tower ramparts. Such a beautiful evening, Trisha could not help but suck in the intoxicating air as she gazed out across the southern city in the early evening light.
The two women leaned upon the tower wall’s outer bulwark, soaking up the day’s warm afterglow delivered upon the breeze. They silently looked out upon the southern suburbs outside the city proper, the spaceport with its complexes of warehouses, depots, and hangars stretching out beyond them in the gathering dusk. This was a favorite place for Chesse to come after a long day of making deliveries. She would stare off into the southlands, reminiscing over her world of long ago.
Chesse finally broke the silence. “So much of this world has changed since the Rebellion. For countless ages, a thick forest of evergreen and hardwoods spread far across that plain. In time, a sprinkle of farms came to dot the landscape, but for the most part it remained a wild land less than a day’s journey from this tower. Well I remember the sweet romance made under the giant oaks and the midnight swims taken in the light of a haunting summer moon.”
She released a long, sad sigh, lamenting, “It’s all gone now, the trees cut down to clear the land for new construction, the rivers and lakes buried under tons of bitumen and concrete used to built the spaceport and surrounding communities. The last of the distant farmsteads was swallowed up at the beginning of the Great War. All gone, like so many other dreams of yesterday… gone.”
Her shoulders slumped as she looked into Trisha’s face. “Your invitation was not to have me reminisce over the past. Whatever your motive for bringing me here, I believe is in vain. I’m used up, beaten and broken, wondering sometimes if I even care what the future brings. My world has long dissolved into memories. I was a Maiden of Light, failing my people while innocence still ruled this world. I raised the sword of war in hopes of gaining absolution, only to see those I led slaughtered before my eyes.
Casting her gaze toward the flagstones, she mourned, “From the First Megiddo War down through the Great War, I have watched the butchery of my brothers - good and evil, once my companions and lovers - shared in it, commanded it. Blood runs heavy from my hands. I murdered them all, seeking to purchase my own redemption, something I did not deserve, do not. I forsook the glory of Lagandow for a bed of hemlock down and senseless passion.”
Trisha rested her hands upon the battlement, searching into the gathering darkness to see through Chesse’s mind the world of her day. She finally broke her silence. “Out there, beyond your world, lies mine… or so I have been told. Thousand-year old dunes sweep over what used to be the city of my birth, QaShaibJal.”
Chesse jerked her head about in surprise. “QaShaibJal?!”
Trisha smiled sadly, looking b
ack into Chesse’s surprised face. “Yes, the people of this world call me by the name of my forgotten city - a name they chose for me. And Trisha? I’m sure that by now you have been told that it’s little more than an acronym for foreboding prophecy.” Trisha looked back toward the southern horizon, sighing. “That is so. I’m known only as the proverbial saying from a forgotten place. That’s me, TrishaQaShaibJal, too unimportant a soul to ever be asked my real name, and such a beautiful name it is.”
Chesse began to apologize. Trisha stopped her, waving a hand. “Time has long passed for pious mollification, the sanctimonious penchant of your kind to nobly overlook the feelings of others through sympathetic apology, and then eulogize with mournful prose the lofty reasons necessitating such ignorance.”
Chesse stood there, mouth agape, insult apparent on her face.
Trisha looked away to the south, speaking in little above a whisper. “My name is ‘ElaiaKallos’, ‘the beautiful olive tree’, or at least that was the definition given it by Asotos. My mother gifted me with the name, she calling me ‘her little olive slip’, a treasured gift of love’s embrace.”
Standing back, clasping her hands behind her, she turned and addressed Chesse. “My home... My home? My home, QaShaibJal, is a lost and forgotten place, it and my mother existing only within the vaulted halls of my memories. I, alone, retain any knowledge of it. In that place, I grew up and into womanhood, married, bore eight children and buried three, grew old, was disgraced and abandoned and finally died. All in some place that matters not a pea-whit to any of the holy angels from this world. Why should I care about winning this coming war, saving your race, your past when my past has ever been devoured by Destiny’s fickle hour? What is the value of my sacrifice?”
Eyeing Chesse, Trisha queried, “Chess? Chesse? A name from a child’s poem, if I recall. Silly little name, isn’t it? An easy name to hide behind when one seeks to run from reality, isn’t that so? Well, no longer will I assist you with that foolish illusion, Chasileah, Queen of the mountain goats, mother goddess of Orleans.”
Shaking a finger in Chasileah’s face, the field marshal cut across the woman’s soul with her sharp criticism. “Oh yes, I have perused your history this day. You have not been a quiet lady, setting the world of men aflame on many occasions! Gabrielle has little on you other than her saintliness is clouded in mist and uncertainty. The Haudenosaunez speak your name with reverence, you saving their souls from destruction many times.” Chasileah was aghast, never expecting such verbal excoriation, but she was given no time to speak.
“Susquehanna!” Trisha lifted a hand in emphasis. “That is the way your name is pronounced in the world of men down to this day. Susquehanna – Chasileah - ‘the deliverer of rescue, preserver of souls’. It is true, many are the souls you have rescued from certain death - souls that have gone on to change the worlds of men and gods, some for good and some for ill, but in the end those souls have delivered us up to this day.”
She turned to again look out from the tower wall, still addressing her words to Chasileah. “No more baby names for me to call you. Chasileah it is and Chasileah it will be. It fits you. Learn to live with it...”
Chasileah’s temper was up, it reflected in her polite but curt response. “Commander TrishaQaShaibJal, the academy of historical institution provides wind for the sails of mindless orators seeking an audience with the clouds.” She pointed at herself. “I assure you that this cloud has provided little comfort for the parched tongue.”
Assailing the night breeze with bitter reproach, Chasileah continued her courteous rebuff. “Should you have noted the rocks beneath the surface, seeing deeply into matters, you would have visited your mind upon a wretched creature, to be sure. I do not hide behind a childish name to forget, but to remember - remember the only innocence I can recall from my miserable life. A harlot I am, having sold the souls of my kindred in Hell’s fires for an unattainable redemption, a bed of thorns being too great a gift for my atrocious fornications!”
Her voice grew desperate as indignation welled up in her breast. “Oh, how wonderful your rhetoric and charming your prose. ‘Susquehanna, the great rescuer, Mother-goddess of Orleans!’ What fool told you that? I’ve rescued no one. No one! Even that child I did not give rest to, but allowed her to burn for a cause of my choosing. Damn my soul instead! The very granddaughter of my Juliet, I denied succor. Please do not speak of valor regarding my evil name.”
Trisha did not falter in her reply. “The tune of self-pity plays well upon a wanton heart. I shall speak as I please, and you will listen! Do you truly believe that witch, Juliet, could not have gathered the LukosAner – werewolves - and their kindred to deliver the child? Why, I believe that the power of the gorgon princess alone could have ripped apart Rouen’s walls, her very breath able to extinguish Jehanne’s tormenting flames.”
She looked down in silent contemplation before staring up into Chasileah’s astonished face. “I do know also that in her dying moments, the child saw the victory her death delivered upon Satan’s world. Her murder by fire broke the arm of the northern king, while breathing renewed life back into the ruler of the south. Held the winds were for another time and season because of her sacrifice.”
Trisha smiled. “You rescued that child into another glory that is of much greater worth than the life she surrendered so many days ago. Yet, that was not your only rescue that changed the world of men, and secured the future down to this day. You delivered Beowulf from the dungeons of Rome so that he made his escape into the Lands of Ice, he raising an army of Norse who crushed the ever-growing power of mouth of Hormax, again slowing the coming day.” She poked Chasileah’s chest as she stepped forward. “The child holds only praise for you and all that you did for her.”
Chasileah exclaimed, “What fool…”
“What fool told me this?” Trisha grinned. “Did you hear that the Witches of KordianHasur stood my side at the Prisoner Exchange?”
Curious, Chasileah answered quietly, “Yes...”
Trisha then asked, “Has anyone pondered how I gathered their allegiance so quickly, seeing them to be such a wild people that even Gabrielle failed to win them to our cause?” Chasileah did not know. Grinning, Trisha answered, “A madwoman from the Realms Below has collected them under her banner, she being wilder than they. They call her ‘JehanneEmmainomaiOrleans’ because of her fierce rage against our unholy host. That may well be true, but I feel she is rather a better diplomat. The girl has convinced the Witches of KordianHasur to join our alliance, they swearing fealty to the Empire. Jehanne is currently negotiating with the two major Wildcatter guilds to bring them into the fold.”
Flabbergasted by the revelation, Chasileah asked, astounded, “Jehanne?”
Trisha nodded, smiling. “Your rescue was very much a success. Had you done differently, it is a possibility that the child might not have arrived to this destiny with the temperament and abilities she possesses.”
Chasileah disagreed with Trisha’s final conclusions, feeling that Jehanne had suffered needlessly. “Too often I have allowed my heart to decide death and life, choosing what will pacify its burning ache over the knowing mind. Your Zadar lives not because of any valor on my part. Many soldiers under my command died at Bauglow that day, some of greater worth to cause and destiny than either him or me, yet I chose to rescue that man because my bed he warmed as no other man could.”
She pounded her chest. “Yes, that’s right! The loss of his passionate rut was more than this roe’s heart could afford to lose! I could see only my emptiness if he were gone from me. So, while those under my command withered away under the storm of fire and missiles, I cowered to save one cherished soul, leaving the others leaderless in the face of coming destruction. One soul I rescued when I should have been leading my regiment into damnation’s storm...”
Trisha countered, “You were already torn and broken, dying some said, others believ
ing you already dead. Indeed! Major ChuarWick, your second in command, could not believe it when they discovered you alive the following day, he having personally seen you pitched into the bloodied air and crashing headlong into the rocks, your color bearer and those around you torn asunder. Already, he said to me, you were carrying a bolt through your ribs, refusing to relinquish command.”
Chasileah rejected the report. “Major Chuar always had a flair for the theatric. Little can you trust his words about my heroics.”
Stepping back and eyeing Chasileah, Trisha smugly replied, “Well, he thinks highly of you. Said you were the bravest commander he ever served under.”
Chasileah spat back, “The man’s a fool! A piss ant would be a better commander than I. The murder of my regiment at Bauglow was only the final curtain to a very long act filled with my butchery of, oh, so many souls.”
Trisha shrugged, looking away. “Be that as it may, you at least saved the life of Zadar, and I thank you for that. Zadar is my life and blood. He moves me as he does you. Should I have done as well as you if our fates were exchanged?”
Without hesitating, she returned to an earlier question. “It does not answer the reason I should care for your kind one whit. You’ve done nothing for me, didn’t even know I existed! What good have I found in this hellhole you call ‘Heaven’? Give me a reason for my sacrifice at all! I don’t even have a baby time in my memory to return to.”
Chasileah was caught up speechless, able to find no reply to make in answer.
With a finger, Trisha tapped the side of her head. “This… for this...here... Inside here - you and me - is a mind that is but one mind, one blood, if you wish to call it that. Sisters we are, you and me, one family, one mother, one sire, up here in the mind.”
She went on, touching her face, eyes and mouth, with spread fingers. “The body is only a vehicle to transport the mind through the realms of time and space. With it, we can sense the outside world in which we reside. I ask you, is this world real? If it is, tell me so, please, how you know? Can your mind escape the vessel harboring it? Lo, reality is but a vision we believe to be real. You believe, so you act accordingly.”
“I ask you for a fact: am I real, is Zadar, Lowenah? You answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’, but only in faith can you make reply, for only when you are outside your vessel looking back can you be sure of the presumed reality around you. So what do you believe then? The same as I, I suppose. That when the vessel is rent asunder, the mind escapes into a dreamless sleep, awaiting a new vessel of equal or greater worth in which to be placed. This we also believe…that countless millions of our people now rest in that dreamless sleep, and…if we do not win this war against evil…there will be no hope for their returning to a new vessel.”
She looked upon the southern city now aglow with lights of evening. “What is a tree, a forest or a farm? Why, what account are even planets, star systems or even galaxies? They come and they go all at the whim of a silent fate that sets the clock for a beginning or an ending. Mountains will sink and seas will rise, forests will die and deserts will blossom. Ever does the universe go on, changing this way and that. Who can stop it? Who does it care for?”
Again tapping the side of her head, Trisha exclaimed, “But this! This mind goes on forever. Whether in this body or another, it matters little, if at all. Yet, is the mind immortal? I say not so, not at least is it indestructible. Unreachable to us, yes! That is why your evil brother can only destroy the body and not the soul - the mind. But can it be destroyed? I believe, yes, it can.”
Spreading her arms wide as if holding the universe in her grasp, she continued. “Of three things are all mortal elements made. This you should know from your study of EbenCeruboam: energy…the spirit of God; frequency…the songs of God; and amplitude…the strength of God. Ether, often called an element, is not an element at all, but is the force that bonds the other three things together, locking, if you will, the many of the separate elements into the three. Thus are these three delicately woven into a fabric in which all mortal life resides, the fabric itself becoming mortal by its very construction in that it can be dissolved into its separate parts.”
“Into this fabric, at its very base - a fabric that carries all life within it - rests the mind of each living being. Though separate, all living things are one because there is but one living fabric that shares with life its sustaining power. As goes the Web, so goes the mind.”
Trisha lifted a hand. “Now all these things you should know, they being the fundamental teachings of EbenCeruboam. And yet, do you understand or comprehend their real meaning?”
Still put off by Trisha’s trouncing, justified or not, Chasileah answered with caustic reply. “Oh, great vizier, your words of coarse flaxen weave are too deep for a child taught only by the Keepers of the Cherub Stones. Please explain yourself in ways this simple babe may understand.”
How bitter the gall when the wine, too, is sour. Trisha frowned. “It is not the confusion of my monkey speech that freezes your senses, but the depths to which you and your kind seek to dive! I have heard report that you held NiShanderiah in your arms as life slipped from her soul, and that you wept for days over her murder. Do you wish to see her return?”
The sudden shock of Trisha’s question sent a numbing ache through Chasileah’s heart, her eyes filling with tears. She bowed her head, ashamed over her own vengeful assault that only added credence to the woman’s verbal attack against her people. She spoke in a whisper, “I’m sorry...” then quietly replied, “Your question needs no answer. How painful her loss has been to me, for many reasons.”
After studying the distant spaceport, Trisha again spoke. “We must comprehend the meaning of the Stones if NiShanderiah or any of our other kindred are to return to us.” Chasileah made no reply, waiting to hear Trisha’s explanation. Trisha smiled grimly, and then began. “Asotos is extremely powerful...much more so than I originally anticipated.”
She lifted a hand, waving a finger. “Oh yes, foolish I was at the Prisoner Exchange and, if having known then the secrets I am privy to now, I doubt my bravado would have carried the day. So foolish, yes, so foolish... Since that hour, I have been educated in the ways of the Cherub Stones and other related matters and, yes, by some very wise viziers to boot. What was shared with me you should have long ago learned from their very mouths.”
Chasileah was surprised, wanting to know what Trisha knew about her and how she came about the information. Trisha refused to tell, saying only that their meeting was not that of chance, and little it was she did not know about her. She leaned back against the tower wall, folding her arms together on her chest.
“Now to the real meaning...” Trisha began. “As I said, I have come to learn how frightfully powerful your brother really is, his powers little diminished since given to him so long ago. Although he cannot reach into the Web of the Minds, he has the power to destroy that Web, possibly all the many Webs…I don’t know.”
“It is the harmonics that make up all matter and mortal energy. All things in our universes are composed of these two things. The ether locks the harmonics and amplitude together at a very specific, controlled algorithm, thus producing a permanent core or base for all universal law to function within. We can change the mortal matter into mortal energy and vice-versa, that is, within our own Realm. What should happen, though, if we transfer an algorithm from this Realm and place it in a different Realm without passing it first through the Middle Realm?” She clapped her hands. “Poof! Boom! Am I not correct?”
Chasileah agreed. “Yes. There have been recorded cases of this happening.”
Trisha smiled. “Normally we consider such events being caused by particulate interchange, possibly from a cosmic, inter-dimensional storm, as non-threatening, they being more visual than destructive. In such cases, the storm rapidly passes and any damage to the Web is quickly repaired.”
“Now consider w
hat the case might be if such a storm constantly pounded upon the structure of the Webs, smashing like angry ocean waves on a sandy shore. It is doubtful the Web’s integrity could endure forever such an onslaught. Eventually the ether might lose its bonding strength, causing the Web and all mortal things within it to break apart, unweaving, so to speak.”
Chasileah’s eyes filled with wonder as she pondered Trisha’s revelations. Revelations? Yes, in the sense that this subject was not part of the study of EbenCeruboam. True, the facts had always been there, but discussed in abstract of more positive ways. What Trisha presented was troubling because it revealed what might be a possible flaw in the creation of the universe. Could there be a chance that the Web of the Minds was not as secure a place as believed? How? The answer was quickly forthcoming.
Trisha explained, “Lowenah designed our worlds - this entire mortal universe - to be self-contained, and by placing her immortal power into it, assured that it would continue to function by itself for eternity...that is as long as the universe functioned as it was designed. Intelligent life is always at war with the mechanics of the universe. To prevent those mechanics from harming or destroying independent life, the mechanics were made weak, Lowenah limiting the power they could exert on independent thinking, albeit instinctive or free will. This would continue to work fine as long as all living things remained in harmony with the music of the universe, producing a symbiotic relationship of sorts between the mechanics and independent thinking.”
Trisha looked up at the darkening sky. Already countless stars were twinkling their hypnotic lullabies. “Your kind has long studied the secrets of this universe through your EbenCeruboam. You speak of three elements composing all things, those elements not to be confused with my earlier statements. The third element has always escaped you, so many theories abounding so as to make one’s head swim. Yet I tell you, it is no real secret, for it abounds in our new king, Mihai.”
“Please! Really?!” Chasileah exclaimed in surprise. “What is it? Tell me please, so that I may also know.”
Trisha laughed. “Ask the king, yourself, for she can spell it out much better than I.” Her face grew grim. “I will tell you this – no, these things: The third element is a power that can infect intelligent life, be it angel or human. Like a virus it grows until every fiber on one’s soul is saturated with it. This virus produces a music, so to speak, that bonds the ether to all other elements. The stronger the third element, the stronger the universe, but…” She frowned. “What your EbenCeruboam does not discuss is that there also exists a fourth element that is nearly as powerful as the third, and it acts like a virus, too, but sings to our destruction.”
“What?!” Chasileah cried, concerned. “Please, tell me!”
Trisha nodded that she would. “As I said, powerful is your brother, having received gifts from beyond this mortal universe, from back in days of innocence when Lowenah was preparing him to rule over all these worlds. The man is mortal, but does not age or decline in health, even though he has become more degenerate than the Stasis Pirates. His life cannot be extinguished by time alone. It must be brought to a finish in later days by the one appointed. Please believe what I tell you, for not from my monkey reasoning did I acquire this knowledge, but by sword and healing did it come to me.”
Chasileah frowned, sadly considering the great hurt her pernicious ridicule had caused. For a lifetime, Trisha had suffered the abuses of an ignorant and arrogant society, and now she, Chasileah, an Ancient of high order had sunk to delivering little more than jealous insults to a person seeking only to rescue her people from their own damnation. Little could she say now in apology. Even begging forgiveness would not win a cure. Her arrow of bitter reproach had pierced Trisha’s heart and there was no returning it to the quiver.
Trisha gestured as she went on. “Since before Time’s founding, was the fourth element theorized, and that only in passing, Lowenah’s heart refusing to study it further. You see, the third element is eternal, being part of and from Lowenah. It is a sweet, beautiful music that flows gently through everything, for she is in everything, in a way.”
“But this fourth element? It is a cacophony, a musical discord that can only come from an intelligent mind that is deliberately twisted and bent away from the third element. Until your brother rebelled, there had never been a mind twisted so that this harmonic deviltry could be produced. So until that evil moment, the effect of discord upon the universal Webs was only an unstudied theory.”
Trisha stared at Chasileah knowingly. “Oh, yes, others of your kind knew of it, but nothing was ever pursued.” Chaslieah winced as if in pain, but said nothing.
Trisha raised a hand, shaking a finger. “Now here’s the rub...” She covered her face with opened hands, massaging tired eyes with extended fingers. “Not only does Asotos’ musical discord back-feed into other dimensional Webs beyond our own, it is also infectious like a virus, feeding the animal in a careless heart. Like the third element, it grows in strength the further the infection spreads.”
Chasileah interrupted, asking, “So you’re saying that this fourth element is some kind of a threat?”
“Not just some kind of a threat...” Trisha exclaimed. “It is an extinction level threat!” The woman shook a finger. “These evil harmonics are slowly consuming our worlds as I speak. But that is not the worst of it! It has been theorized by those far wiser than your sages that the musical discord will eventually reach beyond our worlds and into the very fabric of the universe, including the Web of the Minds, weakening the ether and unraveling all mortal elements.”
She turned and looked into the distance. “It is possible that the Middle Realms might not dissolve into nothing, they being made of somewhat different stuff than the other Realms, yet hope for survival would be dismal at best for any making escape to those worlds. In time, their bodies would become little more than machines running on lizard brains, all power of intelligence destroyed when the Web of the Minds disintegrates. Eventually, even that form of life would turn to mist, leaving a cold, empty universe. In time, even it might dissolve into nothing.”
Chasileah’s head ached as ancient visions awoke in her mind. Trisha did not disclose secrets unheard. Long ago, in a time almost forgotten, she had been warned of the same fate should her kind fall asleep in forgetfulness. And fall asleep they did, were still sleeping. Was it too late an hour for wakefulness? She thought not, for here stood the messenger sent by the Watchers to wake her people up. But to do so, she must destroy their souls by exposing their guilt. No wonder the woman was hated so.
Through pale lips, Chasileah asked, “I beg you to tell me there is hope for us, for our kindred who rest in the Web of Forgetfulness. Please say it is so. I see you are a prophet of the gods, the torch-bearers of Lowenah’s heart.”
Trisha frowned. “A waif of disputable value...I am no prophet.” Then she nodded, answering, “Yes…there is hope.”
Chasileah was disturbed over Trisha’s self views, yet did she not feel the same about herself? Seeking more information, she pursued the discussion. “You speak with dismay. What poison swims in the sweet wine of Destiny’s success assured?”
Trisha smiled, grim. “Poison? Yes... And we all must drink the hemlock up to the full. Little it matters our individual destinies, our lives or deaths during this coming war meaning nothing if we do not stem the destructive tides slowly drowning our universe. Prepare to gulp down the gall whether you stand proud the battle line or cower in hidden caves. Yet there is still hope if enough join the fight, resisting the evil tide.”
She reached out, gently grasping Chasileah’s upper arm, her eyes searching for…for understanding, acceptance. Any feelings Chasileah might have shown in her face were hidden in the evening shadows. Trisha looked down at the flagstone, her fingers gradually sliding from Chasileah’s shoulder and falling away after reaching the woman’s elbow. Turning away, she stared into
the tower’s dark entrance.
She started speaking toward the opening as if addressing the nameless ghosts hiding beyond the shadowy passageway. “I seek no condolence or sympathy. The road I have taken was not forced upon me, yet someone was condemned to take it. Why not me? Give me grace, then, and allow me a restful sleep so my mind will be clear for the coming battle. I ask only to be judged in a court of my own peers - whether for murder or glory, allow them to decide.”
Turning about, she rested a hand upon the outer wall. “Lowenah, your mother, has devised a plan, a very dangerous one, and I have promised to carry it out. Time is not on our side, the Rebellion having already unleashed its destructive discord against the Web. Yet it is time that we must buy, stretch out, so to speak, lengthen, in order to succeed in this contest.”
“Shiloh must grow and mature. Then, if he wins his contest against the Evil One, he will need to be taught in all the ways of the North. Shiloh must learn to deliver mankind from its own damnation. By his own ruthless acts, he must save the world of men. If he fails, then Elijah will not come, and the universe will dissolve into nothing anyway. Only this man, Shiloh, has the power and ability to end for all time the Rebellion we are attempting to curb.”
She sighed, wearily shaking her head. “But Shiloh is only a child, not yet tested to fitness. He must be protected so that he can grow into the role he is to play. We must buy him the needed time to grow, and then finish his training so the world he will save.”
Chasileah asked, concerned, “How does this coming war do these things?”
Trisha answered sadly, “It is feared by Lowenah that this universe has few years before it will lose it cohesive strength, plunging it into black nothingness. We must rid the universe of Asotos’ presence…or die trying. We must drive him into the Realms Below. It is our only hope. The Second Realm was cracked long ago by global fire and flood. It produces a harmonic discord of its own that helps to nullify the evil effects produced by the Worm. It’s a pretty tough place, at least in comparison to here.”
She lifted a hand. “There are powers in this universe that do not abide by law or rule. Lowenah’s promise to Asotos to stay out of any coming conflicts until all things are settled does not bind those powers. Still, no help will we receive from them until we have been used up to nothing. We must either drive our enemy from these worlds, or be consumed to extinction in the coming conflagration if we are to hope a future for this universe and those of ours who rest in the Web of the Minds.”
“And of Shiloh?” Chasileah wondered.
“Ah, that...” Trisha explained, “This coming war will not end quickly, cannot. To make our enemy bleed, we must also bleed. It will take a great deal of time to drive that bastard, Asotos, from here - decades maybe, but…”
“But what?” Chasileah asked.
Trisha smiled. “But such a war will distract Asotos, make him keep his promise not to interfere with things in the Lower Realms until matters are settled here. It gives the boy time to grow up, unmolested. When the Worm sees our determination at his ruination, he will focus all his energies here in an attempt to stop us, thus forcing him to put on hold his future plans for that world.”
Looking toward the spaceport, Trisha confessed, “The destiny of all things rests in our hands. It is not if we succeed or fail in battle that will decide the future fate of all living things, but whether we endure all the way to the end, either our own end, or driving Asotos from here.”
Chasileah questioned he, “How can you be so sure of such success?”
Trisha smiled. “Lowenah cannot lie, nor any power that comes from her immortal self. Voices have told me so. That is all I will say of the matter.”
Becoming silent, Trisha leaned upon the parapet and stared out at the night. Chasileah quietly studied this woman, a foreigner in her world. What was it about these creatures, anyway? Loud, crass, arrogant to the extreme, and passionate, there was a fire that burned deep within their souls hotter than all the boiling furnaces in the galaxy, Lord Trisha being a sterling example. Chasileah could feel the touch of jealousy growing in her heart to have the same flaming emotion in hers.
Trisha finally broke the silence, commenting, “I hear you dress in the uniform of the Postal, but you carry yourself like a skilled and taught soldier. A colonel, I heard Zadar say, but only a colonel? Rumor has it that you have turned down promotion on several occasions, wishing only to lead others into death and not command them to do so.”
Chasileah turned away, frowning, a tear falling ever downward in the evening’s shadows. “I work for the Postal, Commander, not because I enjoy it, but to maintain my sanity. You preach well the ending hour and the calamity it may bring. The ending hour of my life came long before this world burned. It is bad enough to pay the butcher’s bill leading from the front, but to order the deaths of those innocents while hiding behind sheltered rocks…?”
She looked back at Trisha. “If your desire is to have me rejoin the Army, then I must disappoint you. Have I not already proved my valor to sufficient extremes? No, Lord Trisha, I will offer my services in other ways, but leading soldiers to their deaths I cannot.”
Clasping her hands behind her, Trisha replied. “I wish for your services in other ways. There is a great need for an officer of your caliber on my staff.”
Chasileah’s eyes bulged as she exclaimed in ridicule, “What is with your kind?! Can you not hear the Spirits whispering denunciations of my crimes? Can you not see the damnation of my wicked, selfish acts? Must I spell out in your monkey speech the reasons for such a foolish request, or has the sun burned those senses from your mind also?”
Trisha again ignored Chasileah’s outburst the same as she had Mihai’s before the Prisoner Exchange. A knife blow to the heart need not be fatal if the cure is swift and sure. Trisha had invented her own cure, ignoring such outbursts, pretending they were for another soul, a wicked little creature often beaten by a drunken father in a blind, forgetful rage. Yes, let the wicked little child take the blows. Elaia, the observer watching from afar, would intercede at the proper moment and set matters right.
“So...” Trisha asked politely, “please do. Spell out in my simple speech your reasons.”
At first dumbfounded, Chasileah finally took a step forward. Pounding a finger into an opened palm, she hissed angrily, “Let me spell it out! It was my stupidity that cost the lives of eighty percent of my regiment! It was my selfishness that saved someone no more deserving life than so many others! I ordered my command forward, so sure of a victory that I failed to reconnoiter the field. I saved Zadar because I wanted his cock tease, while allowing the murder of so many others because… because my lust was not as hot for them! I wantonly and recklessly brought ruin to my regiment because I saw only what my heart wished to see!”
Placing a hand to her chin as she nodded in thought, Trisha allowed time for Chasileah’s passions to calm. She then quietly made reply, looking into her face. “Yes, and I do believe you would do it again should the same moment be upon you.”
Chasileah gasped, her ears not believing what they had heard.
Before she could respond, Trisha continued, “As High Commander of the Army of Children’s Empire, I must make decisions that will consign many, many Zadars and NiShanderiahs to the fires of Hell’s Kitchen. My mouth will declare the time of death for countless millions of innocent lives. Heartless I am, as you well know. It’s in the blood of my kind, as you have said. Zadar is the only man who excites me so with his cock tease. I need someone close who will remind me of the countless Zadars that warm other’s beds as my lover does mine.”
She then announced, “Any officer on my staff has the freedom to speak about any matter openly and frankly to me in private council. I will at times need a heart filled with passionate understanding that can communicate to me in simple speech the reasons why I should reconsider my decisions. I believe you are the most qualified of al
l of Lowenah’s children to do such a thing for me.”
Chasileah did not know how to respond. What could she say to such a reply? Her supreme failure was the very asset this person wanted. If she revealed greater crimes, might they not also be eagerly sought for their value?
Trisha drew close, standing only inches from Chasileah’s face, the field marshal’s sweet breath softly caressing her cheek. “I ask no answer from you this eve, but only a very small promise.”
Chasileah wished to make a caustic reply to drive this intruder away, but the softness of Trisha’s pleading words carried a sensual refrain that stirred more than just her heart. It was a spell being cast, that was for sure, but the opiate was too powerful to be completely ignored. A ‘very small promise.’ Wary she was, but curious, too. Could she live without knowing if she walked away now?
“What promise?” Chasileah asked in a voice both sour and wondering.
Trisha drew closer, her lips almost touching Chasileah’s, her eyes opened wide with desire. “Only this…” Again the sweet sensuality softly brushed across Chasileah’s cheek. “Three days hence, Zadar and I will be at a council in the Upper Palace. Promise to ponder your decision until that hour and then come to me there. Tell me, face to face, what your decision will be. I, for my part, will not argue or attempt to dissuade you should you choose not to accept my offer.”
She reached out again, gently holding Chasileah’s lower arm. “Please, my sister, I beg that you do only this one thing for me.”
Chasileah’s heart pined for more than a gentle touch. ‘The witchery of Anna!’ She thought, troubled, but oh so much more desirable, for Trisha’s music was sung not only to the flesh, but to the spirit - oh so much more addictive! “I…I…will come.” She promised while seeking to find the lips of the woman singing such hypnotic melodies to her heart.
Trisha stepped back ever so slightly, her eyes twinkling, revealing the hint of reward only if Chasileah delivered upon her promise. Placing an opened hand over Chasileah’s heart, she cooed, “I long to see you then. Please remember this heart that pines so for your company. The man we both love shall also be waiting there by my side in that hour.”
Chasileah’s body trembled with chained desire. Not since Tolohe’s loving touches so many eons ago could she recall such wild, beastly passion welling up within her breasts. Trisha had gotten into her head, casting an unbreakable spell over her. This was impossible for a child of…
“I will be there.” Chasileah answered longingly, her spirit hoping for more than conversation. She stepped back on wobbly legs, reaching for the tower wall to steady herself.
Trisha smiled, her face reflecting a cooling passion. “Tell me, please, in that hour what our fates are to be.” She placed a finger upon Chasileah’s lips. “Tell me then of choices made. Keep my heart in suspense until that hour. I will be waiting.”
Chasileah dumbly promised, she falling on Trisha in a lingering hug. Eventually, she stood back, offering her parting salutations, walking away from the tower wall, fading into the blackness, appearing momentarily on the street below.
Trisha watched silently as Chasileah made her way across the street and hailed down a lorry heading for the spaceport, quietly contemplating the evening. How much she wished Zadar could be with her tonight! She wrapped her arms about herself in lonely desire.
At that instant, a shadow moved out from the blackness of the tower opening, a voice whispering, “Full of surprises you are. To use your erotic charms in forcing the battle was not expected, and to witness the mastery at which you wielded them was even more so, your witchery being greater than I perceived. Successful you will be, we will be. Our girl will come around, of that I can assure you, if not for our patriotic cause, then for the cravings for a flowered bed of juniper down.”
Trisha shrugged sadly. “My witchery is only that taught me by my inner voice.” She looked out into the night. “Your kind are so strange to me. Dirty I feel for seducing the woman, seeing I have sold my flesh for a promise. So strange...so strange that I do not understand it at all. You see, while I detest such sexual trickery, at the very same moment, I shake with excited desire to deliver up the price I have offered.”
The shadowy figure replied, reaching out and taking Trisha’s hand, “Seduction? Prostitution? The selling of the flesh? I wonder? Do the flirtatious acts practiced to gain the bed of another not also constitute wanton acts, the selling of emotion to gain the flesh of another? Yet my people make an art of that game, we revel in it. My touch, now, is suggestive, wishing you will satisfy my passions. Though I offer you a gift, it is my lustful desires that cause my heart of offer such an exchange in the hopes that I may buy your romance by my request.”
Trisha reached out, running her fingers through long wavy hair. She grinned. “You need not seduce me, ever. Are we not already like one flesh in heart, soul, and mind?”
Stroking Trisha’s hand, the shadowy figure encouraged her to climb the stairs to the tower’s top chamber. “My Lord, the world is such a beautiful place when the morning’s sun casts its first light upon these battlements. You have not sold your flesh for a promise. No, by your very words I could feel your honest desire growing for that woman. So now, while the heat still warms heart and soul, come with me and refresh your spirit. Let me be your Zadar for this eve.”
Trisha swooned, purring with delight. “Oh, my lovely one, my lips are yours to caress, my breasts yours to devour. Give to me your sweet milk and I shall give you my sweet dreams. Where is there another like you? I say there is no one. No one at all...”
Silently, hand in hand, the two women disappeared into the blackness of the tower entrance, their gentle footfall on the upward steps gradually fading into the night.