Plague of Tyrants

by M. J. Sewall

  Ardrell looked to the others.

  Aline said, “He's on our side now.”

  “We'll see about that,” said Ardrell. “Come with me, Firstman. But hold on tight.” She walked to her beast, expecting Brenddel to follow. He did, but cautiously. He never thought he'd be riding a Jhalgon.

  They rose into the air astride the sixty-foot fish. Brenddel looked uneasily at the giant beast below him. To his back, the giant fin rose over his head, and he kept his legs firmly pressed against the large leather saddle. The last time he was this close to a Jhalgon, he was hacking off a fin for his trophy wall.

  He did not share this fact with Ardrell.

  Brenddel grabbed the leather straps on either side and wrapped them around his arms. He almost had the urge to put his arms around her waist. She looked exactly like Sandrell. He tried not to think about that. The last time he saw her, Sandrell had tried to kill him. She nearly succeeded.

  When he heard the news she had fallen, he had nearly cried for her, but Brenddel hadn't actually cried since he was ten years old. He focused his attention on the airships. Brenddel hoped they would see the white cloth, the offer of peace, before they shot them from the sky.

  The Jhalgon stayed out of range and signaled the best they could so that the three airships would not fire. They could see the amazement on the faces of the men even from this distance. The beast approached from above, as planned. Brenddel felt strange enough riding a creature he had done battle with, he definitely did not want to be shot off its back.

  The weapons on the ship were standing down, aimed away from them. Ardrell positioned them alongside the lead ship close enough for Brenddel to be heard. Tolan leaned on the railing of the deck, “By the gods, Brenddel, you're alive… and you're riding a monster.”

  Brenddel looked at the beast, “I'm as surprised as you are.”

  Tolan asked, “How did you survive? We found some wreckage from your ship, but…”

  “I used the cloud catcher,” Brenddel said.

  “So, it really worked? I know you wanted to test it, but the conditions couldn't have been ideal, with all those things exploding around you,” said Tolan.

  “No, my good brother, they were not. It worked beautifully, we should test it together when we get back. It's quite the sensation of floating down with a pillow of air above you. I would have sent word, except a Sea Lord picked me up. Plus, the knock to the head I got shook loose my memory. I did kill three of his men before they took me down.”

  “Admirable. What's your next step?” asked Tolan.

  “We'll be returning to the kingdom. The Outlands mission must wait.”

  “I see,” said Tolan.

  Brenddel pointed. “The beach is secured. Land there and we'll board.”

  Tolan asked, “Can I suggest another course?”

  Brenddel looked over the crew. He recognized some of the men, but not all. He glanced over the three ships carefully as Tolan spoke. “All is well in the kingdom. No need to rush back. Wouldn't it be better if you all continued the mission? With you and this flying beast to aid them…”

  “I notice all the ships have the new weapon,” Brenddel pointed at the ships. “What kind of trouble were you expecting?”

  “The message from the former queen said, 'Sea Lords.' We came prepared for anything.”

  Brenddel sensed the strange tone from Tolan, like he was stalling. “Our orders are to refer to Ellice as my Queen, out of respect.” He saw the man with his hands on the new weapon. And where it was being aimed.

  Tolan laughed. “Well, at least I didn't call her the slaver queen.”

  Brenddel stared at Tolan, who only smiled back. Brenddel used his left hand to tap Ardrell where Tolan couldn't see. She turned her head only slightly, to see Brenddel motioning upward with his thumb. He looked into Tolan's eyes, “Only enemies of the Kingdom call the former queen that.”

  Tolan shrugged. “It depends on what version of history you believe.”

  “Or you could just admit you're working with them. That you turned against us. Was it you that helped the envoy try to kill our King?” asked Brenddel.

  “Of course.” Tolan replied, “Who else could get the envoy so close to one of the Kings?”

  “Why?”

  Tolan smirked. “I chose Asa because I knew it would hurt you the most.” He yelled at his men, “Fire the dragon!”

  The black metal tube had been aimed the entire time, now it spit a line of fire directly at them. It did not drop fire like the rainmaker weapon, but instead a column of flames erupted like a dragon from the old legends.

  Ardrell was ready, and the beast rose into the sky. The stream of fire shot reached out seventy feet to find them, lighting the sky with bright orange heat. Brenddel felt the sudden wave expand below him, as it billowed up to meet them. The flame never reached them, but the Jhalgon bucked upward just in time.

  Brenddel held fast to his ropes, but his backside did not stick to the saddle. He felt himself lift and begin to fall over the side. His hand held one rope, but his body thumped against the side of the beast. Hanging off with one hand, Brenddel saw the other airship had turned broadside towards them. Another spout of flame erupted at them.

  “Up, dammit!” yelled Brenddel, and the beast rose again, causing the rope to dig deeper into Brenddel's arm. He yelled more from rage than pain, trying to find a grip with his other hand as he swung his shoulder out wide to grab the other rope.

  His hand fumbled, and Brenddel was able to get back on the saddle. Two of the airships began to rise and meet their height.

  Ardrell yelled, “Why do they attack?”

  “We are betrayed. I don't know why.” said Brenddel.

  “Then we leave.” Ardrell banked her beast to the left, and angled down toward the beach, “They force us to the Outlands.”

  Brenddel looked back at the airships, with anger so bright he wished he could spit flames himself. He turned back to Ardrell, “Then let's go.”

  Chapter 32: Betrayed

  The gas fields burned. Fire and thick black smoke could now be seen for miles. Mantuan and a party of twenty guards were nearly to the site onboard their airship.

  As they got closer, Mantuan knew it wasn't the mined sun gas that caused all the flames. The gas they filled their airships with was not flammable. As they hovered closer to where they kept the main fleet, Mantuan could see fire everywhere: the decks, the ropes, and the weapons. All the gear and backup supplies were lost. Nothing can survive these flames, thought Mantuan.

  Lozarian briefed Mantuan while on route to the site. The reports said that all fifteen ships at the landing pads were gone. The fire had also destroyed many machines that mined and stored the gas. Looking down from his airship as the destruction got closer, he knew this would set them back years.

  They landed far from the fires. Some were already under control or burning themselves out. Mantuan assumed most of the smoke was from all the ropes. It took a lot of rope for any ship, water or air. There were a group of five soldiers still putting out the fires. Mantuan, Lozarian, and six soldiers went in. Another contingent surrounded the site, and three took the airship back up to hover over the scene. Mantuan would take no chances of another attack.

  It was hard to tell that the five men were soldiers, their uniforms and faces all black with soot. The men saw Mantuan coming and one stopped his work. Mantuan asked, “Where is the man in charge of these fields?”

  “Gone.” said one of the men.

  Mantuan shook his head, “Dead, then. How many men did we…?”

  “No. No one died here today. They were careful about that. He is just gone with the others,” said the man.

  Lozarian asked, “What others? Did you see who did this?”

  “We did. It was the field handler and about twenty of the workers,” said the man.

  Lozarian asked, “The handler was one of the palace guards. Are you telling me that guards did this?”

  “I am. We five and the others had jus
t finished our shifts,” said the man. “It wasn't half an hour later that everything was ablaze.”

  “Lozarian, wasn't the field handler handpicked by Tolan?” asked Mantuan.

  “He was. I objected, in fact. The man had no qualifications that I could see. But Tolan is my superior. He appointed the man about ten days before he left on mission.”

  The man spit some soot from his mouth in disgust. “He was a wormy little man. Nobody liked him. A few of us were thinking of going over his head and sending word to the palace. But this happened first.”

  “All fifteen airships…” Mantuan looked around again, “what else did they destroy?”

  The man spread his hands. “A little bit of everything. The reserve tanks were hit, but not totally emptied. They hit some drills, some oil wells. Thank the gods the oil reserves didn't start burning.”

  Lozarian nodded. “The airships were the only targets then. This is the main hub for oil production. We have smaller separating plants around the kingdom. But this is where we produce and store most of the lifting gas, the gas for street lamps, for all the small engines, liquid gas for the rotators. Everything.”

  “Alright. I will need a list of all the names of the guards that escaped,” said Lozarian.

  “That might be a problem,” said the soot-covered guard, indicating the main set of buildings, now only burned remains.

  “There will be a backup list at the palace, it will just take more time,” said Mantuan. “I just wish you had caught one.”

  “We did,” the man pointed to another building, “he's shackled in the bathhouse over there. It's made of stone, so the fires didn't touch it.”

  Lozarian said, “Were you going to mention that, or let us guess you'd caught one?”

  “With respect, it's been a long day.” His only explanation was his open hand as he indicated the destruction he had to attend to.

  Mantuan and Lozarian thanked the man for his duty and went to the bathhouse. Since most of the guards were stationed here full time, there were indoor showers, large private and communal baths, and well-designed indoor plumbing. That's one thing Trunculin did well, Mantuan admitted to himself. Trunculin had spent vast sums building with the most modern techniques. Their kingdom was the only place where most village street were lit with gas lamps. Many homes had indoor gas lighting and plumbing as well.

  It was one of the ways Trunculin had bought the love of the people.

  They entered the large building, passing by the giant communal baths, steam rising off the clear water. Two guards were standing near a man who had been shackled to a large pipe that came out of the wall and went into the stone floor. The man was gagged and had a quickly darkening bruise on one eye.

  “How did he get that injury?” asked Lozarian.

  The guard said, “I had to hit him. He nearly bit my finger off when I put his shackles on. He's a nasty one. The rest got away.”

  Mantuan took the gag off and said, “What's your name?”

  The man spat in Mantuan's direction, but didn't hit him.

  “Little man,” said Mantuan, “we will find out your name and those of your friends.”

  Lozarian said, “I know him. He used to train with Tolan.”

  The man's eyes betrayed nothing. He just stared with silent hate.

  Mantuan said, “Another connection to Tolan. What are the odds? I will have the names of your friends. Now. The longer you delay the worse it will be for you.”

  “What's it to be, patched one? A return to Brenddel's torture rooms? You don't scare me…” the man added, “…old man.”

  “A lot of horrible things were done in the past, but it is a new day. Brenddel is dead, Trunculin is dead. Those rooms are used for storage now. I won't see chaos take the place of Trunculin. But I will get those names.”

  The man laughed. “What is this new day? Trunculin's choice for king still sits on the throne. You are here, but are not Firstman. You haven't been part of the guard for years, old man. What authority do you have?”

  Mantuan asked, “And this is the answer for your anger? Destroy the airships, our best defense to invaders?”

  “You mean a way to keep the people in line. How can the voice of the people be heard if they know a ship can rain fire down on them if they believe something the palace doesn't agree with?”

  Mantuan had had enough, “You are madmen. That has never happened, would never happen. We are doing away with the old fears and that kind of evil by Trunculin. We want the people to have a voice. What do you think we've worked so hard for?”

  The man spat again, rattling his shackles, “When, old man? The days' pass by and nothing changes.”

  “You think this Council of Thirteen is the answer? Men chosen from among themselves to rule over you?” asked Lozarian.

  The man asked, “You mean, like the first thirteen? Men and women that came here from other lands and did just that! They chose among themselves.”

  Mantuan said, “And when the corruption began, they saw their mistake. Tamblyn, the great Firstcouncilor put forth the idea: let the children lead us. Our kingdom would stand for goodness. King and queen by random choosing. A set amount of time to rule, the rulers coming from the people, so that the people would be represented by their neighbors. Corruption could not take hold, that's why we must go back to our first ways.”

  The man laughed. “Yet Trunculin happened. How did your perfect system allow that to happen, old man?”

  “It happened because he erased our true history,' said Mantuan, growing angrier. “made us forget, controlled secretly by fear. Rulers that operate in darkness will always turn into monsters. The light that the people shine on them keeps the system honest. Damn it, why am I arguing with a dog that would destroy our work? Enough.”

  “Words. Lies. What about actions? Admit it, your system failed. Trunculin didn't kill it, he showed that it was doomed. Time for something better. The new thirteen are coming.”

  “I'm done arguing,” said Mantuan.

  “Names,” demanded Lozarian.

  The man spit on the floor again.

  “No matter.” Mantuan's mood changed. “we have a list of men at the palace. Any soldier on that list not fighting the fires, must be part of the plot. Goodbye, little man.”

  The man looked suspicious. “You mean you're just leaving me here?”

  Mantuan nodded. “You've made it clear you won't cooperate. I told you, I don't torture.”

  The man looked around at the two guards, they looked back at the man, “Who will take me back for trial?”

  “No one to take back. All of the traitors fled. Oh, there was that man that died of his injuries, the one shackled in the bathhouse, but sadly, he died before I arrived,” said Mantuan, looking at the guards. “Isn't that right, men?”

  The guards looked at the man on the floor and smiled.

  “Did you see the man in the bathhouse, Lozarian?” asked Mantuan, looking around as if the man on the floor didn't exist.

  “I wouldn't know, Mantuan, I stayed outside the entire time.”

  The two guards smiled wider as Mantuan and Lozarian walked away. “Too bad the man died, I'm sure the men outside, busy putting out the fires he set, would love to spend some time with him alone.”

  “Wait!” the man yelled.

  Mantuan stopped. “Ready to give me names?”

  “I won't betray my brothers here, but I know something you don't.”

  “What's that?” asked Lozarian.

  “I know what Tolan is planning.”

  “We already suspected him,” said Mantuan, “what can you tell us we can't find for ourselves?”

  The man said, “I know he helped kill Brenddel, and tried to kill the King. And I know more.”

  Chapter 33: Floating City

  Even with the occasional return to the waters that the Jhalgon fish had to make, their speed left the three airships far behind. They rested on the surface of the water a few times to energize the beast, then took flight again.
The beast could seat all of them comfortably. Gordon noticed his mother was holding tight to the straps, sure not to fall off. Gordon sat just in front of the fin, his mother next, then Brenddel. Aline kept her arms around Ardrell's waist. Brenddel was still in a rage, even after they were miles from the airships that tried to kill him. He didn't speak for a long time.

  They quickly approached the new world at the edge of their map. Gordon looked for Salban's Fingers. The map that Gordon remembered from the palace did not do justice to the enormous structures that fast approached.

  Great columns of stone resembling giant fingers reached out of the sea, thrust up from the water in columns, the waves crashing all around them. Between the columns of sharp rock were swirling waters, like the waves didn't know which way to attack the rock and were furious at their confusion. Some spaces between the rocks were large enough for a ship, but only a mad ship's pilot would take them into the certain death of the fingers.

  Evidence of that madness could be seen as they approached. The sea was mostly calm, but not between the fingers of the sea god. The stone fingers poked up, and below the waters, hints of what used to be ships could be seen. Here a rope wrapped around a finger, there a sunken mast leaned into the stone. Gordon wondered if any ship had come by them on purpose, actually trying to navigate through them. No, he decided they must have gotten sucked into them at night, or in a storm.

  Brenddel final spoke to Ardrell, “Where do we go now?”

  “We rest first, then I know a way through to Ossmalan,” replied Ardrell.

  Ellice asked, “That's what the Outlanders call their entire lands?”

  “Just a small part. The Outlands are vast,” Ardrell said, “no outsiders know how large, not even me. I have only dealt with a small group of them here at the outer ring. It is too dangerous for even me to fly too far into their lands.”

  “These Ossmalan people, are they hostile?” asked Brenddel.

  “Not to me. They may feed you to the fish, Firstman.” Ardrell snapped. As they sat on the huge saddle, no one could tell if she was jesting.