“In fact,” Alric continued, “it wouldn’t surprise me if your dear Kaden sent Julian to kill his brother just to speed up the process. Word gets around, you know. Julian goes off to steal the medallion from the king, next thing we know, the king is dead and Julian is declared king. Sounds shady.”
This made Nalani flush with anger. Who did Alric think he was? He knew nothing of how the Dunarians dealt with things.
“What kind of men do you think Kaden and Julian are?” She said, raising her voice a bit too much.
“Two men that need to win a war,” Alric said.
“They might kill in battle, Alric, but they aren’t murderers. I saw the truth in Julian’s eyes when he told me what happened. It was an accident!”
Alric held up a hand. “Ok, ok, sorry. I’m just saying that it wasn’t too bad of a move on his part, accident or no accident. It put the Dunarians in a very good position.”
“What do you know of it, anyway?” Nalani fumed. “You’ve got no loyalties. Your whole life in Marenon has been focused on nothing but what could get you the most money!”
Alric turned his head away, shaking it in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re saying this to me right now. I’m not asking for payment to help you here!”
“Some help you’ve been,” she said. “Look where we are.”
“It was a bad plan from the beginning,” Alric countered. “The Dunarians don’t care about you, or anyone else that might suffer. They just want the medallions so they can have all the power. It’s greed. They just want to be the dominating force.”
“I don’t expect you to know what it means to believe in something,” Nalani said, turning her head away. “Unlike you, the Dunarians do believe in something. We believe in the possibility of a peaceful Marenon. You’re wrong about us.”
“Well, I’m happy for you,” Alric said. “I hope it turns out as you expect, but I think you’re being naïve.”
“Why are you here?”
Alric sat for a moment, thinking. “Because my other three friends are infatuated with the idea of working for a greater cause. I don’t know how to tell them that it’s not possible. There’s no such thing as a greater cause. All you’re ever doing is feeding the greed of someone above you. That’s why I do what I do. I’m not going to feed someone else’s greed.”
“So you just feed your own?”
“That’s right. Better my own than another’s.” He let out a sigh. “Who’s greed are you feeding, Nalani? By getting this medallion, who are you helping to rise as the next absolute power?”
Nalani was done talking. Alric’s cynical nature was getting under her skin and he knew it. Perhaps Alric liked the rise it brought out of her.
“Will you two shut up?” It was the Erellen from the farthest cage, still curled up. “Can’t a person get some peaceful sleep around here?”
Alric had been startled by the voice, not having noticed he was awake. He got to his knees, peering over at the other prisoner.
“Who are you?” Alric asked.
“His name is Daewyn Florelle,” a voice nearly shouted from below them. Coffman stood with his hands on his belt, staring up at them in disbelief. “How did you two get caught?”
“Long story,” Alric answered, obviously happy to see his friend. “Did you just say Daewyn Florelle?” He looked at the waking prince. “Did he just say Daewyn Florelle?”
“I think so,” Deawyn said. “I don’t know, maybe you should ask him again.”
“What in the world is the Prince of Elysium doing in Voelif?”
Nalani was shocked as well. Erellens were hardly ever seen outside of their own lands, so what was the son of the Erellen king doing here?
“You’re not the only ones interested in what the Nestorians are up to,” Daewyn said.
“Coffman, you gotta get us out of here!” Alric said.
“He’s working on it,” Daewyn said. “Me and your little bandit friend got acquainted yesterday.”
“I still don’t know how I’m gonna do it, but I’ll figure out something.”
“First, you need to figure out what that weapon is,” Nalani said.
“No way,” Coffman answered. “You’re my top priority. I don’t care about that weapon until you guys are out.”
“Sounds good to m…” Alric began, but cut himself short. He looked over at Nalani, then back down to Coffman. “She’s the team leader, Coffman. Do what she tells you.” He looked back to her and gave a nod.
It wasn’t much, but it did show that he respected her enough to listen to what she had to say.
“I want you to figure out the weapon because the Dunarians need to know. The Nestorians took away my bag with the wristband when we were captured and there’s no way to get in touch with Kaden. He needs to know what the Dunarians are up against.”
“What about the medallion?” Coffman asked.
“Mintuk carries it,” she answered. “We never even got close.”
“We aren’t going to be much help to you from up here, so this is up to you,” Alric told him.
Coffman nodded, looking unsure of what to do.
“Just keep a low profile,” Nalani said. “Get the information as discretely as possible.”
“He’s not very used to discrete,” Alric told her in a whisper.
“When you find out what it is, don’t waste any time,” she said.
“She means, you can come back and tell us,” Alric said. Nalani gave him a warning look. “What, aren’t you curious?”
She rolled her eyes and turned back to Coffman. “Remember, we aren’t the priority. Getting information back to the Dunarians is more important.”
Coffman nodded, thinking to himself. He looked up at the others one at a time. “I’ll get this done. I won’t fail any of you.”
“We know, buddy,” Alric said.
“Ah, shut up and get to it already,” Daewyn said. “You people talk more than anyone I’ve ever heard.”
With that, Coffman turned and walked away.
Chapter Nineteen
Coffman was frustrated to see his friends stuck in the cages along with Daewyn. It would make the whole operation much more difficult. Now he had a weapon to discover, a wristband to find and a medallion to steal. Not to mention he had his friends and a prince to rescue. The entire mission was truly on his shoulders. In his years of mercenary work, he had never had so much responsibility. He wasn’t a stranger to working under dangerous conditions, but he was used to taking specific orders, not having to come up with everything on his own. Alric and Lorcan had always been the tactical ones.
As the morning sun rose higher, more and more slaves began making their way toward the Pyramid. Coffman had not yet seen the Sphere, on the inside, but he was immensely curious. He had heard that it was some sort of ball of energy, whatever that meant. He followed the path downward until he was surrounded by hundreds of slaves all making their way to the same place. Whatever it was, he intended to find out.
Assembly lines snaked through the grounds, around various duty stations while several guards with clubs overlooked them all. Coffman made his way to the line where he saw many of the bigger people gathering. These were the heavy lifters used to carry large bags of debris away from the site. This was the perfect job for him. He knew it would provide him a chance to get close to the Sphere and give him an excuse to walk away without arousing suspicion. When it was his turn in line, he was given a large, durable bag and a shovel. The guard motioned him and a few others toward the entrance of the Pyramid.
This was the first time Coffman had a chance to see the structure up close. It was a work of art, clearly meant to be portable. It seemed the Nestorians had no intention of leaving the Pyramid in place. In fact, he noticed that the massive building was on large, durable wheels that would allow it to be moved over long distances. Maybe it was mobile so it could be moved toward Jekyll Rock or even Farlaweer. Coffman wasn’t sure how such a large structure would be moved, but that was clearly t
he intention.
Each of the slaves was checked at the entrance for any sort of contraband; they were only allowed to have a bag, shovel and the clothes on their backs. As he was waiting, Coffman could overhear two of the guards talking about something. Of course they didn’t care whether he overheard because he was a lowly slave that could do nothing. But they didn’t know who he was. Information was his mission.
“Third wave of tests start in a few minutes,” one of them said. “Are we going to evacuate the slaves this time? It really slows their progress.”
“No,” the other one said. “If they’re slow, beat them. But slow is better than a halt. The king is coming in today and this is the last test we can make before he gets here. General Mintuk wants everything to be perfect. Keep them working.”
“Yes, sir,” the other said and turned to leave.
Coffman couldn’t help his wide-eyed expression. From what he had just gathered, he was about to see the weapon in action.
While the guards checked his gear at the door, he ignored their comments about him being such a big guy, and he made his way through the entrance. The Pyramid looked almost completed on the outside, save for the north wall, and the inside was completely hollow. The apex towered several hundred feet in the air, and the four bases were more than a thousand feet apart. But none of this is what captured Coffman’s attention.
In the center of the room, on a raised platform stood a pedestal. It was about four feet high and was hexagonal in shape. Coffman noticed the six round slots on each side, each painted a different color. He instantly wondered if they were meant for the medallions.
He bent over with the other slaves around him, pretending to shovel mounds of dirt and rocks into the bag. From the corner of his eye he could see a group of slaves, all shackled, some looking down at their feet, others shaking uncontrollably, only yards from the pedestal. One of the guards gave an order, and everyone’s head shot up. The masked Nestorian motioned to some other guard who nodded and commanded the manacled slaves to step forward into a designated square. Fear was etched across all their faces. Everyone stopped working to see what would happen, and they weren’t scolded because the guards were not paying any attention to them.
Then, a striking Nestorian, who Coffman knew must be General Mintuk, emerged from a group of guards. His elaborately decorated mask greatly outshined the others. He walked toward the platform where the pedestal stood and reached inside his cloak. He pulled out the orange medallion and set it firmly into the orange slot. A burst of light shot out from the medallion’s center as soon as it was placed in the setting, and above it, a bluish sphere of light began to form. Coffman didn’t know what the Sphere was, or how the magic worked. All he felt was terror.
The ball of light began to spin and grow wildly to the size of a small boulder. Mintuk stepped back onto the steps in front of the pedestal and closed his eyes in deep concentration. As the Sphere spun more rapidly, a white line of energy burst outward into the chained prisoners’ chests. The sound was deafening, like being at the bottom of a giant waterfall mixed with screams of terror. The Sphere kept churning and pulling until there was nothing left inside the shackled slaves, and they fell to the ground lifeless; their screams suddenly silenced. Mintuk raised his head, and the Sphere continued to spin soundlessly.
How could this be effective in the least bit? Before Coffman even had a chance to think through any more questions, almost thirty or more masked Nestorian guards rushed to surround the group of dead slaves. Mintuk stepped closer to the pedestal, the spinning Sphere only feet above his head, and closed his eyes again.
The entire interior of the Pyramid was silent and unmoving, but the first sign of movement didn’t come from anything or anyone living.
One of the bodies on the ground began to twitch. A couple of more did the same until they were all doing it. Gradually the twitching turned into a seizure and the seizure into breathing. They were coming back to life. One by one they stood, but not like they had before. Their eyes were lifeless, their expression emotionless. It was as if…
“Loyal servants!” Mintuk shouted from the pedestal, as he stared into the bright Sphere. “Today you are followers of the Nestorians! Today you fight under my command, and my command only! You are dead already, but you live through my orders, for I am the keeper of your souls!” Mintuk stopped for a moment, concentrating on his new legion of soldiers. “Turn to your left,” he commanded.
Each lifeless Human did as they were told.
“To your right!”
Again they all moved sluggishly to their right.
“Now,” he said with a malicious grin, “devour each other!”
Coffman couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. Without hesitation, each of the undead Humans began attacking one another with ferocity. They were not deterred or slowed by their own injuries, but seemed bent on destroying the others at all costs. They were mindless! Coffman had to turn away as the slaves began ripping each other to shreds, but the sounds left nothing to the imagination. Shrieks of feral hatred and the spilling of blood filled the wide-open area. It was everything Coffman could do to keep from throwing up. When he finally dared to look back in the direction of the slaves, there were probably one or two left alive. Mintuk motioned with his hand and the Nestorian soldiers drew their arrows and shot them into the moving bodies. Both of them fell to the ground, never to move again.
To some, the weapon may have looked like nothing more than some sort of evil device for execution, but Coffman knew better. The way they followed Mintuk’s commands without question; the way they fought without realizing their pain. The Nestorians were creating an army who cared nothing about pain, who did not question authority. Combining this with the unrelenting force of the Stühocs, there would be no stopping them.
*****
Alric was jolted to his senses when the warning signals sounded throughout the city. A caravan of new slaves, led by Stühocs came in a straight line from the east and all of Voelif was ready to receive them.
Where are they getting all these people?
He and Nalani watched from their high perch above the city as the new batch was processed through and shuffled about. He glanced at Nalani, and he could see the anger written on her face. None of this bothered him like it did her. He never felt the sense of duty to help people like she did. It wasn’t easy for him to pinpoint exactly why he was helping the Dunarians. He knew that Coffman and Inga felt some sort of responsibility to help. Lorcan wanted to be near Inga, but Alric didn’t feel like he had a place. He didn’t care about the politics of Marenon, nor did he care about the wars going on and how they affected everyone else. All of this getting wrapped up with the Dunarians had been accidental. When Silas stepped out of the gauntlet with four others, Alric thought he seemed like the perfect bait for the mission to Timugo. But now, the tables had turned and Alric felt like he was the bait, powerless as he hung above Voelif.
He had always been able to take care of himself. Sure, he had been rescued a few times in his life, but he wasn’t so sure that he couldn’t have gotten out of those situations on his own. Now he was stuck. Now all he could do was wait.
The hours dragged by and only once did they receive some water to drink. No food, of course. He and Nalani talked for some of the time, learning of each other’s past and talking of how she didn’t remember anything about her life on Earth. Alric told her that he didn’t remember much about his life on Earth either, though it was a lie. He remembered everything in great detail, but he didn’t want to talk about that. It was gone. It was history, never to be revisited.
He liked Nalani, though. She seemed to be the type of person Alric would have tried to recruit into his group if she weren’t so devoted to her cause. She had just the kinds of qualities he would be looking for. She was smart, knew how to fight, wasn’t scared of anything and was absolutely gorgeous. Though the last one wasn’t a requirement for being a good mercenary, it sure would have been for Alric’s recruitment
decision. No way she would ever go for a guy like him though. She had just left the Human king of Marenon. Alric was nothing more than a thief for hire. She was of a different class. Besides, he could only be with a woman that would go with him on his jobs and live as he did. Though a man can dream, the life he lived was often a lonely one. Alric wasn’t one who settled.
In the late afternoon, the alarms shrieked once again, only this time they were much louder and rang out for a longer period of time.
More slaves?
Nalani and Alric both sat up to watch as Nestorian soldiers and even the slaves were made to stand at attention for the coming caravan. This had to be something different. Even Daewyn to Alric’s right was up on his knees and attentive.
“Yep, this is bad,” he said to the others.
“What is?” Alric asked.
“Nestorians don’t show this kind of respect for anyone except…”
They waited for the Erellen to finish, but he just closed his mouth, watching as the lead carriage ushered in more Stühocs and more slaves. In the middle of the caravan was a massive carriage, but not with barred jail cells like the others. This one carried someone of importance.
“Except for what?” Alric said after a few moments.
“The Stühoc king,” Daewyn said. “That’s Anithistor.”
Nalani gasped at the name. Alric had heard of this Anithistor plenty of times, but it didn’t mean a whole lot to him. Just another stupid, ugly Stühoc.
“Well, I wish they’d shut up with the alarms and bells,” Alric said. “I wouldn’t mind taking a nap.”
“You don’t understand,” Daewyn said. “We’re the first people he’s going to visit. I’m the Erellen prince.” He turned his head to Nalani and Alric. “And you’re up here with me.”
Alric swallowed hard as he turned his head to watch the caravan. This was not good. Daewyn would be the object of Anithistor’s fury, but his high standing in the Erellen nation would most likely serve to keep him alive. The Stühoc king had no reason to keep Alric or Nalani alive. To him, they were nobody. On a whim, he could have them killed and it would mean absolutely nothing.
The Marenon Chronicles Collection Page 47