There is a heavy level of sarcasm on the last bit.
With that, Percy punches a digital pad and the screens above us light up, showing all the people connected to the conference. Most, I don’t recognize. But the people I do recognize make me feel good. Karen, Gunter, Christophe, and Greg – the sword of balance himself. Of course Alistair is there – leading everything.
After summary introductions, Alistair starts right in. “Our primary mission now is the finding and destruction of the beast Ahtsag Znuul. He has killed one of our brightest stars and…”
“We haven’t proved that yet,” Karen interrupts
“The evidence of his complicity is beyond reproach, you know this. Edgar, please bring up the evidence and tell us the point of view of the Technological experts.”
Edgar nods to Percy and our screens populate with windows. Emails and other information I don’t even have a clue about flash on screen.
Edgar nods to Percy in thanks and steps towards the table. “The messages trace from the Chateau, without question. The fact you kept a reader box on their line certainly helped validate these facts, though that action was somewhat ethically questionable. Obviously it would be best to have access to the equipment there, but given the total devastation that is not practical. For details I will turn it over to Percy Baumgarter.”
Percy says a lot. Most of which is over my head. The gist of it is that the “gee-mail” account was opened originally from the chateau. Messages all trace back to the chateau. Purchases from the IP address of the computer that sent the messages were traced back to a credit card that was known to have belonged to Ahtsag Znuul.
Alistair interjects. “Let me read the last message if there are any questions.” The text pops up on my screen. It is a message from [email protected] to [email protected]. The moniker registers immediately – Destroyer of hope, devourer of souls. And the recipient is obvious too.
Alistair begins to read.
“Make Tuesday of next week the day. Either I will walk freely or I will rule over the soul of this pathetic human wizard in the afterlife. He is weak, I know he will release me. If he does not, then I am better off regardless as I can no longer pretend to tolerate these pathetic creatures who do not deserve to stand in my shadow, much less live under my gaze. Together we shall split the spoils of this realm and swing open wide the gates of Helterzen. My rod grows stiff in anticipation. The time is now. Free me.”
“Edgar,” comes Karen’s voice. “Cannot this type of information be forged?”
“Of course it can…” is Edgar’s truncated response before Alistair bellows out.
“Karen Redditch, are you to emotionally compromised to accept the facts presented to you? This creature is no friend of man. It is no friend of yours and no friend to his own kind. Must we remove you from these proceedings?”
Everyone is a bit shocked at the harshness of the rebuke. Alistair continues unphased. “Our singular goal for now is to find of and destroy Ahtsag Znuul. We find him; we find his accomplices. We destroy him, the world is a safer place. This is not for argument. This is Protectorate dictate. I expect all resources allocated to this task."
I don’t know how protocol works in one of these situations, Karen seems to just pipe up – so that’s what I do. “What about Maldgorath? He is involved. He set me up to be killed and has some mole or something in your information network. Shouldn’t we be trying to find him too?”
Based on the look on his face, this interjection bothers the braid-bearded one. I don’t think he likes being questioned.
“Arthur you are here as courtesy only. Unless I am mistaken you do not belong to a guild. But all the same, if we find Ahtsag we may find Maldgorath. Otherwise, that one has eluded all for millennia. Znuul is the logical target of our efforts.”
Percy asks quietly of Edgar if he may leave and is given a nod. On the screens I see Greg stand up and scoot his chair in.
That gets Alistair’s attention. “Sword, where do you think you are going?”
I can’t see Greg’s face, but he’s still in microphone range. “Well, sir I don’t belong to any guild either. The way I see it I am here as a courtesy only – to you. And that courtesy is over. I don’t care much for your kiss my ring attitude, Alistair Burningwood.”
The meeting is degenerating. Alistair rushes off screen presumably to either placate or chastise Greg. Karen is looking away from the camera distantly. Christophe is sitting back in his chair hands steepled.
Gunter breaks the silence. “Then we find the beast and bring him down. This is what we do. Demons do not belong amongst us. This is simple fact.”
Edgar brings the meeting to a close and all the screens go black. “Well it seems we have a direction to follow,” he says. “Let’s all get back together in a few hours – say 6pm.”
There is general agreement and everyone leaves – except me. The evidence against Znuul is damning. I remember that he held his personal power in secrecy for the longest time. But all the same, why would he confide the things he did with me? I’m pretty insignificant in the scheme of things. I mull on this for a while and wonder what Karen must be going through.
I agree with Edgar that a little rest is called for, so I make my way back to my room to lay down for a bit. I’m almost to my room when I am greeted by a noise I didn’t want to hear from the room across.
“Oh baby biiiird!”
My blood begins to boil. One thing. Edgar asked me to make sure of one thing. And my word is now broken. I storm over to the door and fling it open to find Sil sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs over what appears to be Percy’s shoulders and a look that can only be described as “pleased” on her face.
That is until she saw mine.
“Crap! Baby bird, stop!” With that, one of her legs flexes back and pushes him away by the shoulder from under her pleated leather skirt. Percy looks at me bewildered as if he had no idea I was even there until that moment, his face like a glazed donut.
“Arthur,” the bitch says with an awkward smile, “I wasn’t doing anything to him; he was doing things to me.” Damn demon word games, like that makes it right.
My anger bubbles over at that and I light into her, without regard for how much discomfort it causes her. “Edgar asked for one damn thing! Just one! And you can’t control yourself? You made me a fucking liar!”
Each word ricochets off her causing her to flinch and pull back.
“Stop it you’re hurting her!” Percy mans up for a moment, but backs down when he meets my eyes.
My anger is so overwhelming I’m shaking. “That’s my word you broke you untrustworthy bitch! My word! I trusted you! Did you even consider that?”
She is obviously shaken, my rage having a profound effect upon any of my summonlings. I fix her gaze and say the most spiteful thing I can think of to purge myself of this anger. “Silithes, you are just fucking worthless.”
Her eyes go wide as she starts up, mouth opening to say nothing. She takes several steps backward until she backs into the wall, then slides down to a sitting position. Her gaze turns faraway and she covers herself with her wings, basically looking like some kind of strange shaking egg.
I turned my eyes to Percy. He is standing there stunned with a big wet stain on the front of his pants. “Young man,” I address him, “You are coming with me to the principal’s office right now.”
Chapter 19
The Gendarmes at the Vatican are expecting a busy day. The busses are lined up and people filled the entrances in swarms. The Swiss Guard stand at the entrance, but their presence is more for show. Their swords can do little at stopping a fully armed entourage. So, the Gendarmes hold their positions in the background, ready to step in should real security be needed – at least that’s how they thought of it.
This isn’t a professional jealously or anything of the sort. There is much respect both ways. They each understand their role in the keeping of order in the Vatican.
But neither Swiss
Guard nor the Gendarmes understand much other than feeling something is wrong, when the black panel van stops in front of the entrance at the Saint Ann. It is out of place and reeks of bad intentions. It stays there for a minute, almost daring the Swiss Guard to step forward and challenge it.
Then the rear doors swing open on the van and a very large man clad in a black robe and cowl steps out. After unfolding himself from the van, he takes a step forward, face blocked by his cowl. Then the Swiss Guard realize how really wrong things are when the man spouts large leathery black wings and with a flex of the knees and whoosh of those wings, takes to the air at least twenty-five feet above them.
In a deep basso tone that projects far and wide, the hovering creature holds out its arms and addresses anyone who is listening. “Idolaters! Worshippers of false gods! Hear me! The gates to hell are open and I, Ahtsag Znuul am bound by the one true god to lead the throngs of hell in the cleansing of your false faiths. Repent, kneel before us and be spared. Stand by your false gods and you will join us in hell as our servants and slaves!"
His gaze falls upon the Swiss Guard, who respond by pulling their swords.
“So be it,” the winged creature bellows.
At that proclamation, much of the crowd of visitors begin shaking and tearing at their clothes as they transform into creatures that were in no way human. The doors on the parked trucks in the distance burst open followed by a flow of hell hounds, fiends, imps and other horrors pouring out. The real tourists scream and attempt to run, but most are tackled and cut down quickly.
This event is duplicated along the other gates to the Vatican city, with the exception of the winged beast Ahtsag Znuul. Fiends, devils and demons fall upon the guards at the gates. The Gendarmes step out and open fire. The bullets do very little.
The flow of the demonic army washes over the Swiss Guard and Gendarmes alike, leaving death and dismemberment in their path, eventually flowing into the holy city. But, the Swiss Guard and Gendarmes are not the only lines of protection. Cameras feed into the central security complex. The people watching the feeds cannot believe what they are seeing. A general alarm is sounded, which involves the Italian police.
Stepping into the middle of the area with the camera feeds are two fairly large men – Paladins of the Order of Light who are stationed there. They regard the camera feeds and one of them speaks up – “Our swords and armor, brought to us now! There is evil to smite.” The other Paladin regards the feeds and offers “Regular bullets will not do against the greater ones, make sure the Gendarmes know to keep distance, the Swiss Guard should attempt to decapitate.” The persons at the board respond with communication to the persons in the field.
~
The winged beast flies rapidly across the city to the Holy See. It crashes through a window, finding itself facing the Pope, his entourage attempting to usher him to safety. Unfolding its bulk, the beast stands up and regards them all.
“Foul one!” yells one of the cardinals at the Holy Father’s side “You have no jurisdiction here! You have no right! This is holy ground!”
Unphased, the beast raises his hand, which holds a large black rod. A bolt of dark energy emanates from it, piercing the Cardinal and sending him flying backwards into the wall. The other cardinals encircle the Holy Father in a defensive formation. But that does not stop the Holy Father himself, who spreads them apart and approaches the large cowled, winged demon facing them.
“I do not fear you,” he proclaims. “You have no place in this house of God.” With that he walks right up to the demon. “Begone!”
The beast turns its cowled head at that proclamation. Then it turns back to the Holy Father – “Not enough!” And with that he thrusts his hand into the Holy Father’s chest, lifting him from the ground and pulling his heart out. He shows it to the cardinals, followed by shoving it under the cowl. The beast pulls the heat out showing it to them again, with a huge bite taken from it. It tosses the heart at the feet of the cardinals. “Pray to your false god” it says. “Your time here is coming to an end.
Saying that, it grabs up the Holy Father’s dead body and flies back out the window
~
The Paladins now armored, wade into the fray. They dispatch foe after foe at the ends of their glowing holy swords. That is until one of the monsters in the swarm takes aim with a gun taken from the Gendarmes. A Paladin falters having taken a bullet in the leg. The gun rings out again, doing the same to the other Paladin. Having been distracted and slowed, the swarm of fiends over-whelm them with sheer numbers, dismembering them and feasting upon their flesh.
The remainder of the holy city falls in similar fashion, with the cumulative force of numbers and magical power overwhelming all standing before them.
~
The media reports frantically on what appears to be an unprecedented event. Devils have risen from all around and attacked the Vatican. They stand back at a distance and report with emotion. From out of the sky the media contingent is confronted by a winged demon holding a body. It hovers above them and drops it in front of them. Then it too, descends and lands behind the body – the body they now recognize as being the Holy Father himself.
“None of the false faith are safe from us,” its voice booms from under the cowl. It stands before the media for a moment regarding them from under its cowl. Then it peels a red bracelet from its wrist, holds it up and kneels down to dip it in the blood of the Holy Father. It takes to air again, flying away – leaving the bracelet behind.
Rome burned - In a day. And almost as soon as they appeared all the fiends were gone - one by one. Leaving nothing but the charred husk of a once vibrant city.
Chapter 20
I drag Percy down the hall by the arm. The whole way to Edgar’s office, he’s saying things like “It was my fault” and “she didn’t do anything.” There is other bullshit too… and honestly, I’m not listening or caring.
Damn, Sil put one helluva whammy on him.
Regardless, Edgar needs to know that his very important person got compromised, again.
We reach his door and I knock. I knock again and still don’t hear an answer. So I open the door and there he is, looking at the screens behind his desk.
He turns around to face us, “Come in, you need to see this.”
We come in and are confronted by multiple screens of various news organizations declaring things like the “Attack on Rome” to the “End of days?” There are demons, devils and lesser creatures attacking people on some screens.
There is another screen with a crumpled, robed figure lying on the ground. The camera pans up to a robed, cowled, winged demon flying above with the caption “Otsag Snool claims war on Christianity.”
I take in what is in front of me, in shock. Ahtsag’s been called out by name, even if mispronounced. And the demon flying above robed and cowled, is obviously his kind – if not him.
There is carnage about the TV screens. On one screen, a lady broadcaster is being harried by an imp that has apparently taken a liking to her. But she obviously doesn’t care for him and swats him away. The imp returns and stings her on the neck with his tail, causing her to collapse. The camera falls too, presumably the camera man has run away.
It is chaos. It is happening right now.
Edgar spins around and regards us, looking briefly noting the obvious wet mark on Percy’s pants and then back to me. “We have real problems to deal with now, would you both not agree?”
Percy answers before I can. “Yes sir.”
His eyes take bead on Percy again looking him up and down, stopping at the stain on his paints, then returning to Percy's eyes. “Can I count on you or are you best left to Arthur’s succubus?”
Percy didn’t even flinch. “You can count on me Sir, things are very serious – I see. This is what we are here for. Damn, they are destroying the holy city. We can’t let that stand.”
Edgar’s intense eyes turn to me. “Arthur, this feels of what you said Maldgorath’s plan was. Gather yo
ur team. Analyze the footage, we need your point of view.
I nod to him, somewhat overwhelmed by what is unfolding before me on the monitors.
“Percy, get me feeds from the Vatican’s security cameras – now,” Edgar directs forcibly.
Percy grabs a communication device from his belt and gives some commands to someone on the other end. After a few moments two of Edgar’s screens change out to security feeds from the Vatican. Percy steps over and begins to explain to Edgar how to use his remote control pad to scroll through the various feeds.
What I see sickens me: people being torn apart and eaten. Cubati sucking the life from their victims. Torture. The savagery of it all is overwhelming. Blood is everywhere.
Buildings are burning. People are dying. This is not right.
Edgar spins around to me, remote pad in hand. “Whatever you two had to share with me is not important now. There will be a conference call soon” Edgar says. “Get yourself ready, it appears Mr. Znuul has chosen to speak to the media.”
Chapter 21
As I am leaving the room, Percy follows me, adamant in telling me that he forced himself upon Sil. In fact he goes as far as to grab my arm.
Not smart on his part. I lock his wrist and take him to his knees. One advantage of being as old as I am is that I have many years of martial arts training in many different systems, not to mention the experience of the gritty fighting in World War II. I remind Percy know Sil is multiples stronger than an average human. That Percy could overwhelm her is hard to believe. He is insistent. I let him go unharmed, after all Edgar needs him and Sil is a mind-bender.
First of my crew I run into is Pffiferil. I tell him what’s going on and task him with getting everyone to come to our room.
I head to my room and it fills with my summonling gang. I look over my crew and share with them what I saw from the video feeds. Shey’s response is quick and predictable.
The Wielder: Sworn Vengeance (The Wielder Series) Page 7