Sword of the Gods: Prince of Tyre (Sword of the Gods Saga)

by Anna Erishkigal

  Now the Colonel was gone, missing in action, presumably dead. Mikhail's loss was one more tragedy he laid at Hashem's feet. To send such an irreplaceable asset on a fool's mission chasing shadows when he should have been promoting the reluctant Colonel up through the ranks!

  "You may pass, General," Master Tsuneie said without emotion.

  "Thank you, Master Tsuneie," Abaddon saluted a second time. "Master Ujitaru."

  The Colonel had always bowed his head to the Cherubim masters, but the gesture felt alien to Abaddon. He gave a slight nod, his concession that they deserved a level of respect he would grant no other species except the Emperor himself.

  "Yoi tsuitachi, Master Ujitaru, Master Tsuneie," he clicked in the Cherubim language, good day, the only Cherubim Abaddon knew.

  The doors swung open. Abaddon stiffened his wings and marched towards his Emperor and god seated on a raised dais above his greatest military commanders. With wild white hair, bushy eyebrows, and golden eyes, Hashem's simple white robe was in sharp contrast to his ornate palace and golden throne. Light radiated around him, a trick of lighting, but the power which hummed through the room was real.

  "Your Majesty," Abaddon clapped his right hand over his heart. He went down upon one knee, but refused to break eye contact. Did he know? Had the Emperor found out about his wife? Abaddon hid his nervousness beneath the same unreadable expression all Angelics were trained to display from birth.

  "Thank you for coming, General Abaddon," Hashem said.

  At his side stood Supreme Commander-General Jophiel, resplendent in her white dress uniform and golden sash of state, a replica of the one worn by Lucifer. It signified that she spoke with Hashem's voice.

  "General Abaddon," Jophiel said. "Thank you for coming so promptly."

  Her face was as cool and emotionless as the marble statues which lined the walkway in front of the palace. Rumor had it she'd been cavorting with the sire of her latest offspring. The ice princess was so cold it was a wonder the young man's manhood hadn't frozen and snapped off instead of gifting her with another child! Of all the Angelics to be prolific, why did it have to be one who was so frigid?

  General Re Harakhti stood to her left, his golden fur and reddish-brown mane set off by his black-and-navy dress uniform and white hat, medals so heavy upon his chest it was a wonder the fierce multi-purpose fighter didn't fall over. Leonids were a parallel species of hybrid super-soldier, genetically spliced together from the same humans Abaddon now knew still existed, and lions. Although not quite as tall as the Cherubim, the nine-foot-tall Leonids were every bit as fierce, and also closer to extinction! Only 3,500 now existed in the entire universe.

  "General," Re Harakhti rumbled, his whiskers twitching as he took in Abaddon's scent. By the way he absent-mindedly sheathed and unsheathed his deadly claws, Re didn't know why they had been summoned any more than he did.

  "General," Abaddon said in return. He turned to the right of the throne, where General Kunopegos towered over them. All of the Emperor's genetically engineered super-soldiers were large, but the Centauri were the only species of guardian the same height as the Cherubim. Spliced together from the same human root race as his wife and a species Sarvenaz had no recollection of ever seeing, horses, the Centauri had been bred to rush into battle and leap over trenches as though they did not exist.

  "General Kunopegos," Abaddon nodded.

  "General Abaddon," Kunopegos replied.

  Kunopegos mocha flesh matched his light chestnut coat, the markings all Centauri bore the same way all Angelics now had pale white wings and Leonids golden coats. Once upon a time the fierce cavalry had come in many colors, but inbreeding had rendered them homogeneous. Abaddon noted the way Kunopegos' tail swished at flies that did not exist. Reflex? Or a sign of nervousness? The stallion was not prone to showing stress under fire, but Centauri were much less reserved than the icy Angelics.

  "General," Admiral Atagartis greeted from her chair. Mer-Levi were aquatic mammals. Out of her natural environment, she needed a wheelchair to move about terra firma, but in the water her battle prowess was unmatched. Her tail peeked out from beneath a humectant blanket thrown over her lower body to protect her tail from drying.

  Three generations of Levi blood had cost her many of the features which had made her ancestors recognizably half-human. Atagartis had the streamlined torso of a creature the Emperor called dolphin, but at the end of each flipper were fingers and a retractable thumb, features necessary to operate modern military equipment and shoot a gun.

  Abaddon suppressed a smile. Although not sentient like Leviathans, Sarvenaz spoke warmly of the 'sea people' who frolicked with sailors from her ocean-faring village. Most sailors swore the creatures could communicate with them, although primitively.

  "General Atagartis," Abaddon greeted her with warmth. The Mer-Levi naval commander had helped him take out the pirate base which had launched the raiding party which had murdered the 51-Pegasi-4 homeworld. Unlike Jophiel, who had been elevated to her position of power from nowhere, Atagartis had earned her stars the old-fashioned way. In battle.

  "Why have I been summoned?" Abaddon's forthright manner had been one of the things Hashem had valued about him until he'd disappeared for 200 years and come back a changed god. Nowadays the Emperor flinched at his blunt demeanor, as though he were too good to hear a dose of reality from his most decorated four-star general.

  "We await one more … ah! There he is now!"

  The enormous carved doors swung open. In strode Lucifer, looking very ill at ease. His white wings hung listlessly from his back, as though he'd just rolled out of bed from one of his infamous trysts. White-blonde hair, snow white wings, and the most unusual, eerie silver eyes, so pale they were the color of the moon, Lucifer was considered the brightest and most beautiful of all the Angelics.

  "Father…"

  Abaddon noted the way Supreme Commander-General Jophiel stiffened, her fists tightening at her sides. She placed her hand upon the armrest of the Emperor's throne as if to say, 'my Emperor.' Lucifer had been usurped … and Jophiel liked to remind him of that fact every chance she got. It was one of the reasons Abaddon had never liked her.

  "You are late," Hashem admonished his adopted son. His eyes glowed copper with annoyance. "Again. Do you think you are so important as to keep my generals waiting?"

  Abaddon noted Lucifer's hurt expression before he hid it beneath the practiced obsequiousness of a professional politician. Once upon a time Lucifer would have argued with his immortal father, but not anymore. Abaddon was not sure if this was a good thing, or bad.

  "I am sorry, Father," Lucifer placed his hand over his heart as Abaddon had done, but did not kneel or bow his head. "Other duties waylaid me. I am only mortal."

  Abaddon squelched the urge to point out that he, himself, had only just arrived. Lucifer tucked his snowy white wings against his back in a neat dress wings formation and waited, an obedience he knew the gifted politician feigned simply to annoy his father.

  There was a pregnant pause…

  "Do you know why you have all been summoned?" Hashem asked.

  Pregnant … Abaddon gave Lucifer a furtive glance and wondered who else Lucifer had been 'gifting' human females to. Admiral Atagartis? No. The Mer-Levi had no problem reproducing since they had discovered a colony of sentient Leviathans descended from the same animal root-stock that Hashem had used to create his Merfolk Navy.

  Re Harakhti? No. Although the Leonid commander had cause, Leonids being the closest to extinction, Harakhti was already not-so-secretly married in defiance of the Emperor's anti-fraternization laws … with six cubs. All by the same mate.

  Kunopegos? The fierce cavalry general looked pale beneath his chestnut coat, his hooves clopping nervously as Hashem gazed from one general to another with his prescient golden eyes.

  Yes. Kunopegos was in on the conspiracy. The Centauri were almost as close to extinction as the Leonids were and Kunopegos had been blacklisted as expendable. Cannon fodder to
be used against Shay'tan. Assigned to the most dangerous missions because the Alliance had given up hope you would ever reproduce.

  No! Impossible! At 13 feet tall and over 3,000 pounds, Kunopegos was far too large to take a human as his wife! Ah! But a Centauri mare could mate safely with a human male. Yes. That must be the cause of Kunopegos unease? Lucifer had not shared details of his machinations, but had it been Abaddon seeking alliances with the muscle that underlay the Alliance, that is what he would have done.

  Admiral Atagartis coughed to break the silence.

  "Unlike you, father," Lucifer feigned arrogance to hide his guilt, "we are only mortal. Please gift us with your omniscience?"

  Thank the gods that legend was not true! If Hashem could read his mind, he'd be arrested for violating the anti-fraternization laws! Or the seed world non-interference laws! Or the 'I think you've had your head up your backside for the past 225 years' anti-blasphemy laws!

  "Thou shalt not blaspheme the Emperor," Supreme Commander-General Jophiel hissed. She stepped forward as though she wished to clock her pompous civilian counterpart in the face.

  "Or what, Jophie?" Lucifer's eerie silver eyes flashed brighter as he laughed at her. "You'll stage a military coup and seize control over the people's lawfully elected voice?"

  "Never!" Jophie's unearthly blue eyes were murderous, reminding Abaddon once more of Lucifer's dead mother. Coincidence. Jophiel had been born 175 years after Asherah had died and Lucifer was the only offspring the half-Seraphim had ever borne. Asherah had possessed the dark hair and wings of a Seraphim descendant, while Jophiel's hair and wings were the same snowy white as Lucifer's, a quirk of too much inbreeding.

  "Enough!" the Emperor snapped. He straightened up on his throne and achieved a bit of the look of that fierce old god Abaddon so sorely missed. "When in my presence, you shall hold your tongue or I shall order my Cherubim Master-of-Arms to rip it out! Do you understand that, Lucifer?"

  "Yes, Father." Lucifer gave the Emperor an exaggerated bow. Every body part pointed towards his father said 'yes, sir' but every part of his wings pointed away from him said 'go to Hades.'

  "You have all been summoned because we received intelligence of suspicious activity," Supreme Commander-General Jophiel said, her beautiful features icy and cold. "Some of you may have seen bits and pieces of these events. An odd ship here. An out-of-place activity there. You are here to compare notes and share what you know."

  "I noticed a suspicious uptick in the shipment of goods from the Sata'an Empire," Re Harakhti rumbled deep in his throat. "I forwarded inspection reports of all traffic stops in the Perseus Spiral Arm to Major Klikrrr."

  "Please explain to the others exactly what you've been seeing, General Harakhti?" Jophiel asked.

  "Nothing that makes sense, really," Harakhti said. "Dozens of ships heading into the Orion-Cygnus spur with no clear destination. Dozens coming out, empty, with no trade goods in return."

  That didn't make sense! Ba'al Zebub claimed the human homeworld was within the bounds of the Sata'an Empire, which controlled the inner portion of the Outer spiral arm all the way down to and including half the center of the galaxy. Why would there be traders all the way out on the Orion-Cygnus spur?

  "That spur is largely uncharted and unexplored because it is not connected to the galaxy proper," Jophiel said. "Or either empire. Admiral Atagartis? Would you mind sharing what you found?"

  "We found another herd of needles," Admiral Atagartis said.

  All four generals, along with Lucifer, gasped. Needles were child-like, sentient creatures that had the unique ability to leap between the dimensions and use it as a shortcut between time and space the same way an ascended being did. The creatures were not much larger than a full-blooded Leviathan, but had evolved a pouch-like carrying compartment that could fit a passenger. Shortly after the 51-Pegasi-4 genocide, a herd of 30 had been discovered between the Perseus and Outer spiral arms, the living remnant of some advanced civilization which had risen and fallen in a distant galaxy.

  "How many?" Kunopegos asked.

  "Another whole herd," Atagartis said. "We just found them. They flocked around our ship until we took them on board. My personal needle has been socializing them to my crew."

  Atagartis's presence now made sense. The remote Mer-Levi Confederation had tired of the Emperor's lengthy absence more than a century ago and voted themselves to be self-governing, but they still recognized the Eternal Emperor as their ceremonial figurehead and had a cordial, supportive relationship with the Alliance.

  "General Kunopegos?" Jophiel asked. "What oddities have you been seeing?"

  The fierce Centauri general drew himself up to tower over the comparatively petite female Angelic who lorded over them all.

  "The Free Marid Confederation has been caught sneaking contraband through the Crux-Scrutum arm into the Carina-Sagittarius spiral arm in violation of the embargo."

  "What kind of contraband?" Hashem asked.

  "We never find out," Kunopegos said. "The moment we try to board them, they duck back into the Crux-Scrutum. To pursue them there would be an act of war."

  Hashem hissed in frustration. "That wily old dragon will someday give me an apoplectic fit!"

  Normally at this point Lucifer would allude to the fact that while Hashem had been feeling sorry for himself in the ascended realms, he'd been giving the old dragon a run for his money. The Alliance had prospered under Lucifer's reign, old restrictions upon seed worlds eased, if not outright lifted if the need was great, and just enough pressure applied via an elaborate strategy of military, trade and social sanctions to win concessions, easing the crisis on the hybrid military. Lucifer remained uncustomarily silent.

  Abaddon glanced over, expecting to see the Prime Minister gloat, and noticed he looked pale and weak. Not pale and weak as in hiding something, but pale and weak as though he were sick.

  "Lucifer, are you okay?" Abaddon whispered.

  "Sorry," Lucifer swayed. "Been burning the candle too much at both ends."

  "General Abaddon," Jophiel interrupted their exchange. "What activities have you been seeing?"

  "Nothing, Ma'am," Abaddon said. The Emperor had assigned him to remain close after he'd returned, preventing the Jehoshaphat [Judgment of God] from patrolling the outer territories. Security blanket? Or a sign of Hashem's distrust?

  'Nothing except the fact you're in for a nasty surprise when the Old Dragon reveals the ace he's got hidden up his sleeve that Lucifer's about to spring on you in Parliament,' Abaddon added silently in his own mind. Soon. Soon his secret marriage would be out in the open and he would not need to lock his wife away in his room.

  Lucifer would ram his trade deal through Parliament over Hashem's objections. Once he did, Shay'tan wouldn't let the Emperor renege because the Emperor himself had granted Parliament the authority to negotiate trade deals and overrule him with a two-third's vote. During the 200 years the Emperor was gone, Parliament had gotten used to working together to reach the two-thirds majority necessary to act in the Emperor's absence. It was a bitter pill the Emperor could not rescind it without inciting an insurrection amongst citizens grown used to governing themselves in his lengthy absence.

  "What is your will, Your Majesty?" General Kunopegos asked. His nervousness had disappeared now that they knew the activity which had piqued the Emperor's interest had nothing to do with the human homeworld lurking somewhere within the bowels of the Sata'an Empire.

  "Jophie?" the Emperor looked to his right-hand woman.

  Abaddon noted the way Lucifer's fist clenched at the use of her informal name. Some gossips speculated Jophiel was the Emperor's lover, but Abaddon knew that was not true. Hashem treated Jophiel like a daughter, the same way he had once treated Lucifer as his son.

  'Oh Lucifer, herald of the morning,' Abaddon thought to himself. 'How far thou have fallen…'

  "We're going pirate-hunting," Jophiel said, her eyes devoid of the glee most military personnel exhibited upon uttering those jo
yful words. "Something is going on in Victor, Tango and Zulu sectors. We're not going to sit on our laurels while the Old Dragon cooks up a surprise."

  "I shall recommend a list of available assets by tomorrow morning," General Re Harakhti offered.

  "Don't bother," Jophiel's poker face withheld whatever emotion was on her mind. "I have already hand-picked which ships and personnel I want to go on this mission." The slight rustle of feathers sent off a warning bell. She was not telling them all she knew.

  "But Sir!" General Kunopegos protested. "My ranks are thinly spread. You can't just pull any old ship off their duty roster and reassign them without opening holes in our defenses!"

  "Let me take care of that," Jophiel interrupted, her wings pressed tightly against her back to show she would not be dissuaded. "I trust you all to backfill with whatever troops you have left."

  A rumble of discontent rippled through the four assembled generals. Lucifer, however, remained quiet. Abaddon noticed his flesh appeared clammy and white.

  "You have my orders," the Emperor said. "Get on it. I want to find out what my ancient adversary has up his sleeve."

  "Thy will be done," the four generals murmured in unison. They moved out of the Great Hall, shoulder to shoulder, as a single unit. The two Cherubim guards closed the doors with a finality which showed they were being dismissed. None dared speak inside the palace. Within its walls the Emperor was omniscient.

  They waited until they got out to the shuttlecraft.

  "I need to speak to you," Abaddon growled at Lucifer. "Now!"

  "Make an appointment," Lucifer leaned upon one of his two bodyguards for support. He looked as though he were ready to fall over. Too many back-to-back mating appointments and too much liquor, Abaddon suspected.

  Abaddon growled.

  "I mean no disrespect, General," Lucifer glanced back at the royal palace, where the guard-delegates from every Alliance homeworld marched upon the Emperor's outdoor chessboard. "Please. Make an appointment with my Chief of Staff. He will get you in to see me first thing tomorrow morning. Someplace where the wind does not have ears."