The Storm's Own Son (Book 3)

Home > Other > The Storm's Own Son (Book 3) > Page 26
The Storm's Own Son (Book 3) Page 26

by Anthony Gillis


  "Warriors of Hunyos, friends and allies from afar, there are eighty thousand of us here, gathered in might at this ancient place. On this ground, the history of Hunyos unfolded, and it unfolds before us now.

  "We have broken the enemy within and driven them into the north. Savaric and Kossos alone remain under their grip. Etosca, which they destroyed, will be rebuilt. However, we are far from finished. The remaining traitors now call on help from old enemies in Dirion, new enemies from among the Plainsmen of the Northeast, and the Prophet's slaves in the Eastlands.

  "In Hunyos, each city, town, league, clan and warlord is free to choose a path. But we will remain so only if we fight and win. Here we have assembled the greatest body of skilled soldiers and commanders in the world today. This army is united in a way not seen here since the old Empire. To win, we'll need to remain so.

  "I stand before you with my troops, the commanders in my service, with my mighty companions, with gifted wielders of magic, and with a true prophetess ready to challenge the Prophet. All these and I are ready to fight for Hunyos, and I call on you now to choose."

  Hadrastus, General of the League of Five, stood towering tall in his bronze armor. He walked forward to the base of the steps as he and Talaos had planned, turned, and called out, "Brothers in arms, I call for the acclamation of Talaos, our victorious commander, by the ancient title of the great days! In sign of our victory and brotherhood, I call on you to acclaim him. I call to acclaim Talaos, the Storm Lord, as Imperator of Hunyos!"

  Then, one by one, eight more joined Hadrastus.

  Kurvan, warlord of the western hills, and now paramount chieftain of nearly all the hill clans, ambled forward like a massive bear in rich, mismatched armor. His black hair, streaked with gray, flew wild about him, and he carried his massive two-handed axe on his back. He spoke in his booming, growling voice, "I second the call of Hadrastus! Talaos, Imperator of Hunyos!"

  Maxano, Dictator of Kyras in his black, white, and gold armor, helm, and cloak, joined Hadrastus and Kurvan and spoke simply in his eloquent, clear, yet sweeping voice, "I add my call! Talaos, Imperator of Hunyos!"

  Weathered and hard-eyed Warlord Tescani, armed and armored to the teeth, and grim inside his plain but well-forged steel, added the same words as Maxano. After him was Lurios. The trim, polished General of Aledri in rich silvered and gilt armor and helm, with brocaded blue tunic and cloak, spoke the same words.

  Valanus, General of Teroia, was next. The tall, strong officer had dark blue eyes and trim light brown hair that grayed at the temples. He had many old scars, and a gilt breastplate over a plain red-brown cloak of Teroia. He added his call for Talaos as Imperator.

  Megaras, loyal General of Avrosa, was next. His intense eyes peered from an olive face under black hair, and his silvered, polished breastplate had been repaired. His scars remained. He walked solemnly to the steps in his dark gray Avrosan uniform, and made the same call.

  The next was a young officer from Etosca named Drennus, who'd been among the deserters to join Talaos at Avrosa. With his brothers in arms, he was now one of few survivors of all his people. Of medium height, sturdy build, dark hair, and a youthful face, he looked almost out of place in looted antique gilt armor and the white cloak of a general of his city.

  Drennus spoke different words, and with fierce intensity on his young face, "In the name of my brothers in arms here, and of all my slaughtered people, I declare war and undying vengeance upon the Prophet! For vengeance, I call for Talaos as Imperator of Hunyos!"

  The last to speak was a woman named Hekata. Her iron-gray hair framed an elegant, aquiline face, lined from care, and her piercing dark eyes were merciless. Though she wore the silvered chain shirt and blue-green military tunic, bordered in white waves, of a senior officer of Idrona, Talaos knew she was a former patrician, and the widow of an assassinated admiral, but not a military woman herself.

  From hiding, she had led a resistance against the Prophet in her city for nearly two years. In the bloody struggle that followed Talaos's arrival in her city, she had been far and away the most ruthless and effective leader among those fighting against the Prophet. With red-stained hands, she had taken for herself the silver-bordered, blue-green cloak of the Dictator of Idrona.

  In secret, she and Talaos had begun organizing a new hidden force across Hunyos, to fight the efforts of the Prophet much as his old Hounds had done in Avrosa. She'd suggested another name, one that he liked. The Furies.

  Hekata spoke in a grim voice that carried far across the field, "For the sake of my murdered husband and sons, for my daughters and grandchildren who died on the Prophet's pyres, for all my people slain by traitors, I swear death to the Prophet and all who serve him! For the death he brings, I call for Talaos as Imperator of Hunyos!"

  "Hail Talaos, Imperator of Hunyos!" shouted the nine leaders on the steps.

  "Hail Talaos, Imperator of Hunyos!" shouted those on and around the platform.

  "Hail Talaos, Imperator of Hunyos!" shouted nearly a hundred and fifty representatives, with arms in salute, and a moment later, eighty thousand voices raised the same shout and salute. Three times they acclaimed Talaos. Then they beat weapons to shields, or against armored fists, and the earth seemed to shake with the sound.

  Talaos surveyed the vast spectacle before him with approval.

  He sheathed his swords and raised his right hand to the crowd for quiet.

  He spoke, and his voice thundered for miles across the rolling plains and hills. "I accept that which is offered, and as Imperator, swear by the honor of my soul to protect Hunyos and its people."

  Firio then stepped forward and opened the bundle he carried. The black cloth was revealed to be a cloak with a broad border in the design of laurel leaves, like the cloaks awarded to imperators in the old Empire, but in silver on black instead of gold on red. In place of the eagle and wreath used by both the old Empire and the current Republic, the center of the cloak was blazoned with his downward-pointed sword with six radiating lightning bolts.

  Inside the bundle was a diadem forged from silver badges of clouds and lightning bolts that had been found in a chest in the old tower of Avrosa. Adriko placed the cloak on Talaos's shoulder, while he took the diadem in his hands and placed it on his own head.

  "Now, I call on all present in this place," said Talaos in his thunderous voice, "to swear an oath to me personally. Hear the words of my companions, and follow when they are done."

  Those on the platform and the steps spoke as one, in voices audible across the camp. "I swear by the honor of my soul to obey the commands of Talaos, Imperator of Hunyos, and to fight all the actions of the Living Prophet, enemy of mankind."

  From the voices of eighty thousand men and women came the terrible sworn oath.

  From the circle of standing stones atop the wooded hill, a cool wind blew. On that wind could be heard faint voices, many men turned in surprise, but they saw nothing.

  Talaos spoke again. "Brothers in arms! Hear my words, and obey my commands! Defending Hunyos from its enemies will require the work of many, and in many roles. I now appoint the first of them, the nine Commanders of Hunyos!"

  He motioned Adriko to him with his right hand. The latter saluted. Talaos returned it, and announced to the assembled soldiers, "Adriko, many times victorious commander, and now the General of Hunyos! My right hand in war."

  He called Maxano forward from the line of nine on the steps. The latter saluted, Talaos returned it, and then announced, "Maxano, Dictator of Kyras, and now Strategist of Hunyos, who will pierce the veils and plans of our enemies!"

  Then he called Tescani with the same exchange of salutes, and announced, “Warlord Tescani, Warmaster of Hunyos, who will forge the steel of our many armies into one!"

  Next he called to Lurios, who would be in charge of training and discipline. Talaos announced him, "General Lurios of Aledri, Taskmaster of Hunyos, who will temper the steel!"

  The next was Kurvan, who grinned a fierce, craggy grin. They exch
anged salutes, and Talaos announced him, "Warlord Kurvan, Commander of the Wild Hunt, whose hillmen and huntsmen will show no mercy to enemies that dare cross our lands!"

  Then he called forth Auretius, exchanged salutes, and announced him in turn, "General Auretius, victorious commander in the war of the Republic against old Dirion. Now, Commander of the Stormguard, who will defend Hunyos, and the powers of magic we are gathering in its service, to the last."

  Hadrastus was next, and with the exchange of salutes, Talaos announced him to the crowd, "Hadrastus, General of the League of Five, and now Commander of the Stormhammers, those who will go first into danger, bringing death to our enemies!"

  Drennus was next. His was a special purpose, as public as Hekata's was secret, but much the same. They exchanged salutes, and Talaos announced him, "Drennus, general of the fallen city of Etosca, and now, avenger of its murdered people as Commander of the Bane, who will scour Hunyos and the world for servants of the Prophet."

  Last of them was Megaras. He would be Talaos's eyes, ears, and, up to a point, voice while away. To put that into practical effect, Talaos hoped to make use of the speaking amulets they'd taken from the enemy at the battle of Avrosa. However, they first needed to see if they could be removed from connection with the Prophet. They exchanged salutes, and Talaos announced him to the troops, "Megaras, General of Avrosa, my personal Legate and emissary, who will carry my word and speak with my voice!"

  When all had returned to their places, Talaos again raised his right hand for emphasis.

  Then he spoke, and at the price of pain, raised his voice beyond human scale once more.

  "Warriors of Hunyos, brothers in arms, friends and allies, hearken! This generation has been forged in war. Endless war against one another, and it has made us strong. Now let that war and that strength be turned away from each other, and against our true enemies! Today we begin a new path, a straight path toward victory against all who would enslave us, all who would take what is ours. Today we stand together, unconquerable!"

  Cheers erupted, with roaring voices and beating of shields from eighty thousand men.

  With that, Talaos formed his companions about him and prepared for the procession to the command tent. There was much to do, he thought, much to discuss, and everything of worth would be bought with risk and pain.

  So be it.

  He had made his choices, taken his actions, and would face what came of them with open eyes. He stepped forward.

  Epilogue

  A thin man sat cross-legged and barefoot on a plain reed mat. He wore a threadbare robe of plain gray wool. His long black hair and beard were nearly half gray. He had a gentle, patient, detached expression on a face neither young nor old. His rounded brows framed soft, kindly-looking brown eyes over a narrow face with an aquiline nose. His hands folded meditatively at his lap.

  It was night, and crisp, clear stars shone in a cloudless sky. He placidly observed something before him, something that produced great amounts of flickering red light.

  His mat rested on a vast plaza of plain square paving stones. Distant buildings, behind and to either side, were constructed in a simple style of white stone and light varnished wood, with barrel vaulted roofs, fronted by sheltering colonnades of square pillars and flat canopies.

  Close behind him, kneeling on the ground on folded legs, was a figure in white and green robes, with a handsome golden mask that had no eyes. The kneeling figure had his white-gloved hands folded on his lap, and his head bowed. A long bronze sword was strapped to his back.

  Around him and facing him on reed mats sat a circle of twelve men and women, all of older years, with snowy hair and serene expressions. Their layered clothing and robes were of simple white wool. The men wore beards and white caps, the women, hair bound in plain tight coils and white shawls around their shoulders.

  The eyes of the twelve men and women flickered with green fire.

  In long lines on either side, dozens of other men and women sat cross-legged on the pavement, facing the man in the center. They wore garb much like those in the circle, save theirs were varied greens, grays, or browns. Like the man in the golden mask, they bowed their heads.

  The man at the center made the slightest of gestures with his right hand. All those around him waited attentively on his word. He spoke in his language, that of the eastern regions of the Eastlands, what was in this era called the language of the Prophet.

  "It has begun," he said in a soft voice, and with a gentle smile.

  The twelve in the circle nodded, slowly and reflectively, as one.

  The Living Prophet continued, "What was seen from without by my martyred Hand at the city of Avrosa, and from within by the three martyred in holy sacrifice, leaves no doubt that the Unholy One has arisen. Now we will speak of the many shared tasks ahead."

  A woman in the circle, sitting to his direct right, spoke with a kind of peaceful joy, "Praise be, our soul and Prophet. May that the Unholy One will now unwittingly show the way."

  "He may yet, sister," replied the Prophet in humble, almost apologetic tones, "but alas the trees of my garden have born little fruit. The shadows woven by the Unholy One's demoness grow thick. The three martyrs are now themselves besieged within his soul, and they can no longer speak to me. I will trust in your sworn ones to bring us news."

  "They are close, our soul and Prophet," she answered, "and will become among his closest."

  "We will await your word, sister, thank you," said the Prophet, gently.

  Then, though he gave no indication but the slightest beginning of a turn and nod to his left, a man in the circle on that side replied to him.

  "Our soul and Prophet," the man said, "the faithful on the western coasts have served with such zeal and joy at the making of ships, that I may report we are now three months and more ahead of our earlier goal. There were those who shirked the labor of their bodies, and so have instead served with the labor of their souls, given upon the pyres."

  The Prophet showed no change in expression, but he replied with kindly words, "It is well done, brother. Let all here contemplate forgiveness for those who have served upon the pyres, and give silent thanks that they have forever shed their sins and their fears."

  For a brief moment, the Prophet closed his eyes, as did those all around. The flickering red light upon them all grew stronger, and their shadows stretched back across the plaza.

  The Prophet now raised his head, ever so slightly, and a man in the part of the circle behind him answered, "The missions are away, our soul and Prophet, both those long planned, and those recently so. I also have word on the success of our work in the sinful Republic."

  "May they soon rejoice in the good word, brother. Blessings to you."

  Then the Prophet slightly raised both his hands.

  "Brothers and sisters, hearken," he said, softly. "Praise be for your service and preparation for this moment. We shall soon discuss them, and much more, in communion. For with the ninth seal of the world found at last, the end times are upon us.

  "As it was my failure to foresee the emergence of the Unholy One so soon, in the time, place, and form he has taken, so I must make the sacrifice. Even now my remaining Hands proceed to their appointed places across the earth.

  "Very soon, the Unholy One will seek to open the seals. Of all the forms he might have taken, it is the worst. The very spawn and heir of the arch-sinners and tyrants of the earth, the usurpers of the collective gift of mankind, will soon seek their power for himself.

  "However better it would have been for the world to be further along in purification and the great transformation, we must work with what we have. With all the nine seals found, it is before us. With the destruction of the Unholy One, the greater part of the sundered power of the First One can at last be put to work for the benefit of all, and the first sin undone.

  "And then, brothers and sisters, the great transformation may continue unhindered."

  "Praise be," said the twelve in the circle, with one v
oice.

  "With the purification of sin from mankind," intoned the Prophet in his soft voice, "the way shall be cleared for the annihilation of the ultimate sin that is the self. Then, the great transformation will complete, and as one being restored at last, humanity shall become God."

  "So let it be," answered the twelve in harmony.

  "Now, brothers and sisters," said the Prophet, "let us leave the poetry of spoken voice, and enter the prose of communion, for the long conversation that awaits us."

  With that, the Living Prophet's eyes ignited with brilliant white light, and his body became perfectly still. The eyes and bodies of the twelve around him did the same.

  As they sat in communion, the flickering red light became mingled with green.

  Before the Prophet and those who sat with him, the stone plaza descended by eight steps to a far larger open plaza of brick. In the closest part of that plaza, twelve bronze stakes were planted in bases of inscribed white stone, and standing freely there, withering in green flames, were twelve men and women with faces set in ecstatic devotion.

  Behind them, mounted in plain brick, were one hundred and forty-four iron stakes. Chained to them were men, women and children burning on pyres in red flames. Their eyes were vacant, but they screamed. By some power, the sounds of the screams were silenced.

  In a vast circle around the pyres, thousands more men and women stood in silent forgiveness of those who burned, with their heads bowed and their hands clasped.

  Storm and Fire continues with Mercy of the Prophet, Book One.

  A preview follows.

  Preview of Mercy of the Prophet, Book One

  The cold wind whipped at them on the heights, as clouds rolled in from the north.

  Talaos surveyed the immensity all around as they walked.

 

‹ Prev