The Hand of Grethia: A Space Opera

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The Hand of Grethia: A Space Opera Page 20

by Guy Antibes


  After their discussion, one of the men remained tied up. Emon untied the others. Jan conferred with the free men. He took them into the ship and showed them what he showed Emon. Jan described the situation.

  “If they haven’t killed Obsomil and the others, they will be held in the dungeons. I know the way, I am, or should I say, was the captain of the guard.” Emon admitted. “There is just enough room where you can land on the roof. Right next to the Hand there is a passage that leads directly to the dungeons. Grethian priests put their prisoners close to the top of the pyramid.”

  “We will need some kind of diversion.” Jan suggested. He looked at the men and thought. “I want half of your men to go back to the city tonight...”

  ~~~

  Chapter 33

  The sun had just risen, but it had not yet cleared the hills behind the city. Jan took the ship directly up from the clearing and steered the ship until it hovered high over the temple. He put all of his landing lights on and began a very slow descent. The sun lit up the ship in the lightening sky. It was an impressive sight for those not use to anything in the sky but clouds and birds. By the time he had landed at the top of the pyramid, hundreds of people had gathered into the temple square. Jan, wearing his space suit, and six other men exited from his craft.

  He went to the edge of the roof, his silhouette was dark against the hand extending above him. He had rigged a speaker system from his ship.

  “The hour of Grethia is at hand. The men who established the legacy of Grethia have spoken to us from beyond the grave. They have inspired me to come to your planet from beyond the stars to help bring the Grethian wonders directly to you, the people of Grethia.” Jan raised his hands to silence the buzz of the crowds.

  “In order to do this, the Grethian priesthood is hereby abolished, their purpose is fulfilled. They have recently been working against you. They have been trying to kill me so they can keep these secrets for themselves. This will cease! I will establish schools and universities to make the secrets of the Grethian relics available to all. I will teach your children how to make these wonders for themselves.

  “Your lives will be gradually transformed from what they are today. You will be able to go far distances instantaneously. Your medical problems will be solved with better medicine that works wonders.

  “I will deal with the Grethian priests today. They have captured King Obsomil of Diltrant, the only ruler of your world who would listen to me. He has either been killed or imprisoned within this temple by wicked priests.”

  The crowd was awestruck. As their shock wore off, the crowd became angry. The four men Jan sent back into the city continued to promote Jan’s words among the crowds.

  ~

  Jan’s proclamation could be heard through the temple walls. Obsomil looked at his entourage, gathered around him. A torch guttered making the features of the men flicker and change. Darkness closed in around the men outside the torch’s feeble range in their windowless cell. .

  “Jan has obviously taken matters in his own hands. I must concur with his actions.” Obsomil continued, “I don’t know how he made it, the poison was taking effect when he and Fosan disappeared. We can be thankful for his revival. Now sit and be patient. We must be ready to take advantage of any situation to find Ichar and kill him. The fool priests didn’t even bind us.”

  As Obsomil spoke, the door to the cell broke open, letting in a flood of light.

  A priest yelled at them. “You evil heretics! I hate you! You will die for your heresy!” He pulled a knife out of his robes. The priest was no fighting man and had no chance attacking trained soldiers but other irate priests rushed into the room, but they were also quickly subdued.

  No archers with poisoned arrows, thought Obsomil as he shook his head at the feckless priests now being tied up with ropes taken from sleeping pallets in the cell.

  Obsomil put on a priest’s robe and stepped into the corridor with a knife in his hand. With the hood pulled over his head, his eyes blazed with fury, as he led his men quietly through the corridor.

  ~

  After Jan spoke, he retreated from the edge of the wall. He raised his blaster and destroyed a locked door. Emon led them down into the Temple followed by Jan and three Alchantians. Fosan stayed with the ship, keeping it buttoned up tight.

  Jan held his blaster ready and set to kill. At this point, he would not hesitate to keep the priests from killing the guards that accompanied him. He only hoped that Obsomil had not already been put to death.

  A priest came around a corner. His eyes bulged, and then Jan’s men cut him down quickly. “Don’t kill anyone else unless you need to. We’ve got to find out where Obsomil is.” As he said that, a glass orb shattered against the wall near his head. The men could hear the sizzle of acid eating away at the rock of the wall. The priests hurled another globe. Jan ducked and shot, resulting in a priest on the floor. Another, who had a taste of the blast, was groggy. The men grabbed the priest and brought him over to Jan. “Where are the Diltrantians?” he demanded.

  “They are...” a commotion sounded down the corridor. Jan turned to look as a group of four priests ran his way. They turned and stopped, seeing Jan and his group. They collapsed on the floor pleading for mercy.

  In a second, another group led by a priest bearing a long knife burst through the opening to the corridor. Jan raised his blaster, aimed and seeing the face of his ruler in his sights, broke into a grin. The two men ran to each other and clasped shoulders.

  “We are on our way down. It appears you have gotten lower in this damned building than us.” Obsomil said. “Let’s take care of Ichar and Pola and retrieve our things.”

  “We can use the secret passages,” Jan said. “Emon is the former captain of the guard.” Jan turned to Emon, “Do you know of the passages?”

  He shook his head. “I know they exist, but we weren’t permitted to use them, but we are with you.”

  The group had now grown to ten. Jan asked his men of Alchant, “Are you willing to keep this up? There is still danger.”

  “I’m game. I have much to redeem myself for,” declared Emon.

  “So do I,” another said.

  The group followed Jan as he slowly led the way down. “Let’s go in here. It’s a likely spot.” Screens adorned the walls of a priest’s empty quarters. “The door on the other side of this screen should connect with the passage system” Jan disappeared behind the screen and emerged with a smile. “We can take this way. We’ll need some light.”

  Three of the men rummaged in the room and out in the corridor, coming up with some candles and a few torches. The candles were put in pockets and the torches were lit. The group pressed on past the screens and through a door slit in the wall.

  The passageway led on to a series of stair flights. “The temple is set up for public rooms and I know that the secret passages link those to secret rooms.” Emon said.

  A sound stopped the former temple guard. “Quiet! Extinguish the lights!” Obsomil ordered. The group plunged into darkness. Gradually, their eyes adjusted to the blue glow of Grethian light.

  “The Grethian priests use a strip of the glowing paint to light the passages,” Emon said. “The passages and walls are repainted every six months with the glowing stuff, at least that’s what they do on the lower levels.”

  The shadows of priests showed against the dim corridor. Jan, with his blaster set to stun, shot a broad beam at the oncoming group. They heard hushed sounds of limp bodies collapsing to the floor. The men lit the torches again. Each of the prone figures held a weapon. Obsomil and his men tied up the priests with the ropes the priests used for belts and the cords for the amulets they all wore around their necks.

  The party extinguished the lights again and descended into the dark dim blueness. There were two other encounters. Now, about forty priests lay tied up above them.

  One of the men was wounded by a thrown knife and moved to the back of the group to watch for intruders from behind. The stairs b
ecame steeper until finally at the bottom, the passageway ended. At the end of the corridor the crept towards a brighter blue light.

  “I have been here once before. We are at the bottom.” It seemed like ages ago when Jan first came here to steal the Hand. So much had happened. Now he just worried about Fosan and his ship sitting on top of the Temple.

  “Follow me,” Jan said as he entered a low archway and went off to his right. Here the priests had painted the entire surface of the walls, floor and ceiling with the blue phosphorescence. He led the group left then through a cleft in the corridor and came to an opening behind a screen, looking into a room. Pola, Ichar and a group of high level priests were in conference. The Diltrantians’ weapons were stacked in a corner. All were silent, listening to the priests’ words.

  “Pola let us read the message again.” Ichar suggested.

  “High Priest Ichar, I will deliver King Obsomil into your hands. Do not listen to him. You must understand this new madness, wishing Diltrant to rule the world. He has seemingly won me over. I asked for an alliance and received one. He hopes to unify the world against you, but I won’t let that happen. His off-worlder has been to the forbidden land and has performed many blasphemous acts against Grethia. They will both come, but the off-worlder is the most dangerous. He has intimate knowledge of Grethian technology and must be killed. If possible, hold the Diltrantians until I come. I wish to deal with them myself.”

  “I have ordered all of the Diltrantians to be killed,” Ichar said. “I won’t let Wilton have the privilege of destroying Obsomil. How I hated him!” He clenched his fist.

  A priest ran in. “The Diltrantians have escaped. They may be here at any moment.”

  Jan didn’t bother to wait and used his blaster to stun the entire contingent of priests.

  “I like that kind of statesmanship,” Obsomil said. “Maybe we should try it out with the Murgrontians.”

  The men gathered their weapons. Obsomil quickly posted guards to the room. He went to Pola’s outstretched form and retrieved Wilton’s incriminating letter. “What sea scum! I knew he wouldn’t pass my test. So ends an ill-fated alliance.” Obsomil said, as he put the letter in his pouch.

  “Let’s get out of this spot, first,” Jan cautioned. “We need to truss these priests up and take them somewhere. Does anyone have an idea how many priests there are in this building?”

  “There are about three hundred at any one time,” Emon said.

  “Let’s take Ichar with us. I don’t care what happens to the rest,” Obsomil said. With that, the men left the room. Jan returned looking for something in the large cabinet in the room. He found the portable portal that sent him to the ship. He put it back in its bag and fled the room to catch up to the others.

  “King Obsomil,” Jan said breathlessly. “I have a plan. I will set this portal to match locations with the portal on my ship. I’ll transfer back to my ship. If you want to destroy more priests, do so, but keep this with you so you have a way out no matter what happens.” Obsomil nodded.

  “Let’s take out the priests!” Obsomil roared, charging up the stairs. A group of descending priests turned around fled back the way they came. Jan set the portal and disappeared.

  The ship tilted to towards the back when he arrived. He ran to the control cabin. The frantic battering by enraged priests had scratched one of the windows. Jan got to the controls. A relieved Fosan described his ordeal of the last fifteen minutes. “I believe they have set a fire to burn the ship. Unfortunately, it has burned out of the control and I believe the roof is giving way.”

  Jan noticed flames licking up the sides of the ship. Jan lifted the craft so that it was hovering twenty feet above the roof. The two could hear arrows pinging along the bottom of the craft. He was glad the archers attacked him rather than Obsomil.

  Jan went back to the engine room and brought the portal into the main cabin. He reset it and removed his space suit. The fire gained in ferocity while Jan brought up the visuals and watched the conflagration grow below him. “We may get very crowded in here,” he said.

  The Hand was totally in flames. The pyramid-shaped temple began to take on the aspect of a volcano, belching fire and smoke. Jan thought the temple to be made of stone, but as it began to burn out of control, he realized that the interior must have had a lot of combustibles. The great Hand fell into the interior of the temple as the roof fell in, killing all of the priests on the roof. The fire whooshed up to engulf the ship for a moment.

  “Don’t worry, Fosan. The hull is fireproof.” As Jan gazed at the flames as he turned the ship so that he could see the conflagration from out the front window.

  The wounded Alchantian popped into the air above the portal. He stepped off. Then another. One of the Diltrantians appeared with Ichar’s body on his shoulder. In a few minutes, Obsomil, the final one, appeared on the ship. “Jan! Reset the controls. They’re after us!”

  A priest appeared, brandishing a sword, but was quickly subdued. Jan deactivated the portal just after the priest went down.

  “They started coming at us all at once. There were so many of them, I don’t even think your blaster would have helped,” Emon said. “We found a secret door leading to a priest’s quarters. Then we barricaded the room. King Obsomil set down this gate and we started coming up.” The men sat down where they were in the cramped cabin. Some had wounds. Jan delegated Fosan with helping the men into the autodoc. Luckily, none were poisoned.

  “I think the fire drove them down.” Fosan ventured. “Look.” He peered out a port. The fire was now spewing out of windows mid-way down the pyramid. Jan went to the controls and took the craft out over the square. The men looked out from the ports.

  The rooftop began to collapse further. The roof fell a few stories in. There was a renewed burst of flames. Figures erupted out of the windows as the fire worked its way down from level to level. The escaping priests slid down the slanted sides to the ground. More figures rushed out along the walls, some with flames licking up their robes. The sight was awful. More flames came out of the top of the collapsed structure.

  All of the air ducts were now acting as chimneys forcing the pillar of smoke higher into the air. The fire must have grown hotter and hotter. The crowds began to move farther away from the temple. Then they moved out to help keep the adjoining buildings from catching fire. More flames burst out of the temple as additional levels collapsed.

  The building burnt through the remainder of the day and into the night. The population continued to prevent the surrounding buildings from burning, but no one moved to save the temple. At dawn, the ship descended in the square in front of the temple. The door opened. Obsomil walked out in full regalia. A great crowd of people returned to the square.

  “Men and women of Port Alchant, due to the obdurance and wickedness of your Grethian priests, their temple lies in ruins.” He pointed at the smoldering pyre. “Those men caused their own destruction, so intent they were to liquidate our friend from the stars. I have come to institute a new order. One based on free access to technology, not on secret dogma. I, King Obsomil of Diltrant, have decreed that all of the rich knowledge from our forefathers that I personally control be distributed to all of Grethia.”

  Cheering went up from the crowd. “The craft I stand in front of represents the promise of the gifts we have. This man at my side,” Fosan stood beside Obsomil, “will be instrumental in bringing back the learning required to use these gifts. He has been to the far land across the sea. He has seen the devastation our forefathers brought upon themselves. He has seen the wonders the Grethian priests hid from you. We intend to build, perhaps on the very spot of this temple, if you will permit, a center of learning. It will lead to a rebuilding of that which was great in our world.”

  The cheering quieted down as the multitude began to think of such a change. Jan stepped forward and urged Emon to speak. “Go on. These people know you and your words will have more weight than the King’s”

  Jan nudged Emon fo
rward and the former guard began to speak. “Many of you know me. And, I trust, you know I am an honest and forthright man. I served the priests. I knew they were but men, like you and I, but I believed they held the truth, but their version of the truth was for them and not for us. I no longer believe that. I have talked to these men from Diltrant and fought by their sides. They mean what they say. I believe them. I trust them. I will follow them!” Emon punched his fist into the air. The crowd cheered again.

  An entourage came out of the crowd and came towards the ship. It was the civil council. They bowed and one of them spoke, “King Obsomil, your highness, we have waited for deliverance from the recent actions of the Grethian Priests and their intrigues with Murgrontia. They have always been set against Diltrant. As you know Port Alchant has always relied on it’s neutrality to ensure that the trade through our docks were open and free. We have always been treated fairly by Diltrantian merchants. However, Murgrontian agents seized control of our docks some months ago. We want that stopped, now that the priests are no longer around to support them. You have our allegiance if you will help us clean out the Murgrontians.” The men all bowed to one knee.

  Obsomil raised a hand outward to the crowd. “People of Port Alchant. These men, your leaders, have told me they wish that you all benefit from a neutral state, yet they offer their obeisance. Let me bid them rise. I don’t seek to rule Alchant. With the center of learning here, all people from Actobal and the plains kingdoms, Diltrant and yes, even Murgrontia will come here to learn, thereby spreading the heritage of Grethia. We now face a common enemy in the Murgrontians. We need to defeat their leaders so their people can join with us! Lord Wilton had conferred with me to form an alliance. All the while he plotted with the priests of Grethia to kill me.”

  Obsomil turned and again pointed to the smoking ruin behind him. “Do you want keep the Murgrontians from controlling your docks? You will have to fight for it. Now go!” The crowd rose up in a roar and then as they realized the speaking was over began to disperse and celebrate the events in their own way. The leaders of Port Alchant moved forward again and began to confer with Obsomil and Emon.

 

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