Terry W. Ervin

by Flank Hawk

  “What do you know about them, Roos?”

  “That ye names them greater elves. That they do not age, yet despite this they are rare. It is believed they always were. They are kin to fairies, ye names them pixies. The last immortal in the Reunited Kingdom was driven from the land over seventeen centuries ago.”

  Lilly leaned forward to see past me and addressed Roos. “How did you know Belinda the Cursed had immortal blood? Remember what she said to that guardian?”

  “Friend Lilly, memory of what the one Hawk names Belinda the Cursed, or what anyone in that room said, is not clear.”

  “The Colonel of the West is her father,” I clarified, then laughed. “You held your own, debating that fallen angel. I’ll tell you all about it when we get the chance.”

  “It’s true, Crusader,” said Lilly. “Even Belinda the Cursed enjoyed you knocking him down a few pegs.”

  The far door clicked before swinging open. I stood, almost dropping the Blood-Sword. Roos and Lilly stood with me.

  A soldier strode in. He was past middle aged, wearing an olive green jacket over a light green collared shirt with a black ribbon knotted at his throat. I immediately recognized the gray stone-like creature that followed him in—a gargoyle! Its grotesque, tusked face and pointed ears made them the subject of many childhood tales—most leading to nightmares. It walked like the baboon I’d once seen in a carnival, on all fours with its wings tucked back.

  The gargoyle clambered up onto the pedestal and squatted, making it as tall as the soldier standing next to it. What seemed most out of place was the long sleeved white jacket the gargoyle wore. It reminded me of the time my sister tried to dress one of our goats. However, this jacket was made for the gargoyle, including flaps tied down across the back to accommodate its wings.

  The clack of the door shutting returned my focus to the soldier who’d extended his hand across the table to shake. “I am who you would call the Colonel of the West. I have been informed that you are an emissary sent on behalf of King Tobias of Keesee.”

  His handshake was firm and short. “I am Flank Hawk, mercenary in service of Prince Reveron of Keesee.” I clumsily set the sheathed Blood-Sword on the table. If he’d lied about being the greater elf, Roos would’ve told me. “I am here to barter in his name, and that of the king.” To verify my claim I placed Prince Reveron’s ring in the center of the table.

  His eyes shot down to the weapon before turning to the gargoyle. “Doctor, would you care to introduce yourself?”

  Our surprised expressions must have angered the creature, because it simply hunkered down on the pedestal, wrapping its long arms and clawed hands around its knees. “No need,” it grumbled in a fast, gritty voice. “I will listen.”

  Its actions and apparent intelligence didn’t resemble anything from the dark tales involving sinister gargoyle cruelty. I turned to my right. “This is Paul Jedidiah Roos, Crusader from the Reunited Kingdom.” After they shook hands I turned to my left, “This is Lilly, scout and my guide through the lands of the Faxtinian Coalition.”

  Lilly, surprised at my introduction, almost forgot to extend her hand. That gave me a second to consider the man, the greater elf in front of me. He reminded me of a disciplined infantry officer. His cropped short hair with just a hint of gray, and the deep crow’s feet framing his dark green eyes, didn’t speak of immortality. He looked just like any man.

  “Be seated,” the Colonel said, “and tell me why you are here.”

  Without getting into minor details, I told him of the war against the Necromancer King. How, instead of the annual crop disruption raids, a full scale invasion had already overrun the Doran Confederacy, the Faxtinian Coalition and most of the smaller, independent kingdoms. That the Vinchie Empire and Sint Malo have remained neutral, and that the Reunited Kingdom and the Kingdom of Keesee were allied, and the only major powers left opposing the Necromancer King’s evil forces.

  With Belinda Iceheart, his daughter, living across the ocean in our lands, and with his ability to communicate from Outpost 4 to his stronghold with such ease, he certainly had spies reporting back to him. I wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.

  The Colonel nodded as I spoke, occasionally glancing up at the unmoving gargoyle. When I finished, he shifted in his chair and asked, “Is it the belief of your prince that the alliance between Keesee and the Reunited Kingdom will fall to the Necromancer King?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Is that your military assessment as well?”

  “It is.”

  “And you desire to trade this sword for something that will alter that fate?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  He leaned forward, folding his hands and resting them on the table. “It would appear that the Necromancer King has outfoxed his enemies both politically and militarily.” He glanced down at the sheathed sword. “I am familiar with that weapon. It is ancient, possibly more ancient than your king realizes.”

  “If you are familiar,” I said, coming to believe the Colonel of the West truly didn’t care about the evil the Necromancer King intended to spread across all the lands, “then you realize its power. And value.”

  “If use of the weapon in battle could not turn the tide, what makes you think that it would be worth something that could?”

  “I have seen my prince wield the weapon in battle,” I said, realizing the Colonel of the West wasn’t interested. “I have slain a giant with it as well.”

  “Then it should be on the battlefield now,” said the Colonel. “Why are you here instead of your prince?”

  “Our party was ambushed. I carried on when he could not.”

  “Did he perish?”

  Anger began to well within me at the Colonel’s dismissive attitude. I retrieved the prince’s ring from the center of the table and gripped it tightly in my fist. “I do not know.”

  “Your prince and his father are in error believing that, even if I had a spell or weapon to change the tide, this weapon would entice me to give it to them.”

  “Do you know what the Necromancer King does to people he conquers?” I struggled to keep from leaping over the table. I had to make him understand! Images of my fallen comrades marching against us flashed through my mind. “Have you ever had family or friend become a rotted walking corpse?”

  “I have not. And I regret that it has happened to you and your people. But, it is on the hands of your leaders.” He looked at each of us across the table. “Their failure to plan politically and militarily has failed you and your people.”

  A sneer twisted Lilly’s face. “You’re allied with the Necromancer King!” Her hurled accusation caused the gargoyle to stir.

  “Incorrect,” responded the Colonel, hands still folded.

  “Ye may be long lived, Immortal Blood,” Roos said without emotion, “but time has not delivered thee wisdom. Once the Corpse Lord conquers our lands, redoubled, his evil will grow and spread like pestilence, eventually landing on thy shores.”

  “Crusader, you underestimate my resources. And your leaders do not yet recognize the true enemy. It is they who have failed you, not I.”

  “Are you talking about the Long-Tooths?” I asked.

  “Upon your return, their resurgence should be brought to your leader’s attention.” He stood, as did the gargoyle, indicating that the meeting was ending.

  The Colonel’s knowledge of the Long-Tooths told me he’d communicated with Belinda or some other informant. “Worrying about a future enemy is pointless,” I said, “when one is already overrunning your lands.” I slapped my hand down on the Blood-Sword. Compared to the Necromancer King’s Stukas, the Colonel’s Osprey was like a unicorn to a horse. “This is a powerful weapon, against ogres, giants and goblins. It is impotent as any other sword against your Osprey.” Even as I said it, I got the sinking feeling that the Colonel was unwilling to provide a weapon that might one day be turned on his own armies.

  “Every soldier of worth recognizes the enemy and c
ircumstances in which to employ a weapon,” said the Colonel. “King Tobias was correct. The artifact you possess holds significant meaning to me.” He signaled to the gargoyle, which stretched and flexed its bat-like wings. “I regret that you have traveled far, removing the artifact from the battlefield where it may have done much to hinder your enemy’s advance.” He glanced down at the sword, before looking Roos and me in the eye. “I am not the only one of my kind who has an interest in possessing this weapon.”

  “Like I said,” standing and getting angrier, “vague warnings of future enemies desiring this sword are worthless. Besides, we already figured that out. And you must not know the sword well since you overestimate its power when set against souled zombies directing panzers and Stukas.”

  My last statement raised the Colonel’s eyebrow and caused the gargoyle to cock its head in interest. “Panzers and Stukas?” asked the Colonel, motioning for me to sit. “Tell me about these Stukas and panzers.”

  I told him about the cannon and machine gun firing panzers. This time I spared no details. I told him of my and Road Toad’s assault on several at the bridge on the Valduz River. And how there, as well as on the battlefield in northern Keesee, earth elementals were used to battle them. I described the machine gun armed Stukas and the uneven battle when dragons faced them. I explained how summoned wind elementals can be effective, if the wizards aren’t bombed and shot to pieces first.

  When I’d finished the Colonel of the West asked, “How did you come by the names, panzer and Stuka?”

  “Goblins chanted ‘Panzer’ the first night I saw one. Grand Wizard Seelain came to the battlefield to warn Prince Reveron of the Stukas. I do not know where she obtained that name, but that’s what everyone calls them, including Prince Reveron.”

  The Colonel pulled a pencil and small piece of paper from a breast pocket and drew on it. “Have you ever seen this before?”

  Lilly and Roos shook their head, but I recognized the hooked cross emblem. “It’s painted on the sides of every panzer and Stuka I’ve seen.”

  With the stakes at hand, I felt Prince Reveron would approve of me revealing what I’d learned while observing a secret war council. “It’s the symbol of an ancient empire that tried to dominate the world.” I nodded towards Roos. “Crusader historians called it a swastika. Prince Reveron learned the Necromancer King has summoned the knowledge of the swastika’s fallen empire.” I leaned forward, placing a fist on the table. “And damned souls that served the ancient empire now serve the Necromancer King.”

  I sat back, recalling the faces of fallen comrades. “I am one of the few survivors of the infiltration force that verified where the Necromancer King is building Stukas and panzers.”

  The entire time I spoke, a dark, angry look grew in the Colonel of the West’s eyes. Several times his right eye twitched, almost to the point of blinking. When I’d finished, he stood calmly and signaled to the gargoyle again. “Thank you for the information,” he said. “I’ll ask you to remain here while I consider what you have said. I will have food and drink brought. Is there anything else you require?”

  Lilly nudged me. “A latrine visit,” I said. “Not immediately but soon.”

  “I shall see to it that escorts, including a female, will accompany you, shortly.”

  The gargoyle preceded the Colonel out of the room. I started to ask Roos what he thought about the meeting, when Lilly shushed me. We remained quiet while she sat with eyes closed.

  A minute later we gathered around Lilly. “I listened to them out in the hall,” said Lilly. “Before they walked away.”

  Roos frowned, but I asked Lilly, “So, what did they say? Is he going to trade for the sword?”

  “The Colonel said something about someone crossing a line he shouldn’t have. And the rock goblin remarked until yesterday it had been fifteen years since the last contact from Outpost 4. Then the Colonel said to contact Outpost 4. The rock goblin suggested he speak with his daughter. There was a long silence, and the Colonel said to set it up.” Lilly shrugged. “Then they walked away.”

  Roos wondered aloud why they’d conversed, not only in the tongue Lilly could understand, but also within her earshot.

  Roos was convinced that the Colonel of the West recognized Lilly for what she was, and I tended agree. Beyond that we could only guess as to the mysterious Colonel’s motives.

  We waited until the next morning for the Colonel to return. Fifteen minutes after he’d left the meeting room three soldiers escorted us to a nearby windowless room with chamber pots and three cots. Later a meal, beef and boiled potatoes, along with watered wine, was delivered.

  The frustrating wait made it impossible for me to sleep. So much hung in the balance. What if, despite the Colonel’s apparent change of heart, he refused to help? How could I face Prince Reveron? Would my failure doom my family and everyone in Keesee? If the Colonel was open to trade, what would he offer for the sword? I knew so little of magic and machines. How would I know if it was enough?

  Roos slept, still recovering from his head wound, while I sat on my cot trying to figure out what to do. Lilly sat up with me, offering few ideas but much appreciated support.

  I finally dozed off for several hours and awoke still laying on the Blood-Sword that I’d wrapped in several blankets. Someone had cleaned my armor and left it at the foot of my cot. After dressing, a soldier escorted me to a latrine with flowing water. There I found the rest of my equipment oiled, polished and stacked next to one of the four water basins.

  Roos had been up for an hour, as had Lilly. They waited for me and we ate a breakfast of eggs, bacon and cider in the meeting room.

  No soldiers spoke to us other than to give directions. They seemed unconcerned that I wore my short sword, Lilly her dagger, and Roos had both his revolver and saber.

  Lilly and I listened to Roos tell a childhood fishing story where he and his two sisters had their day’s catch snapped up by a seven-foot snapping turtle. All three of us were laughing as Roos described his pathetic attempt at explaining to his father why they hadn’t brought back any fish for supper. The Colonel and the gargoyle entered the room, interrupting our mirth.

  After a few pleasantries, the Colonel of the West said, “Before we discuss the situation across the North Atlantic, I would like to tell you a story.”

  From a pocket in its white jacket, the gargoyle pulled out a small rectangular block with buttons and symbols inscribed upon it. The gargoyle pointed it at the mirror. The lights dimmed and a white rectangle resembling an artist’s blank canvas appeared. Then a group of connected buildings in a vast desert appeared on the mirror’s canvas. They were similar to Outpost 4, except squatter with more stone and far fewer windows.

  “To be more accurate,” said the Colonel, adjusting the angle of his chair to face the picture as it switched to the interior of the buildings, “it is an ancient history lesson.”

  Chapter 27

  Southwestern United States

  2,873 Years before the Reign of King Tobias of Keesee

  As ordered, the blast walls fell, but they failed to contain the experiment. Waves continued to pulse from within the chamber. Waves Dr. Mindebee would never understand, despite centuries of unremitting study. They altered the laws of physics. They changed biochemistry. In the end, they rewrote reality.

  Just as the world changed, so did the men and women who were the first to witness it.

  “And,” said the Colonel of the West as the picture on the wall mirror went blank, “that is what occurred 2,873 years before the Reign of King Tobias.” He nodded to the gargoyle. “As calculated by the scholars in Keesee.”

  Roos, Lilly, and I sat at the table, trying to take in all that had been shown to us. The gargoyle pressed several buttons on the little box, returning the glow in the glass tubes and causing the mirror’s white canvas to fade.

  “What you saw is archival footage gathered and preserved centuries ago,” said the Colonel. “A few events were conjured by seers. The r
est of the historical documentation was recreated using computer generated scenes.”

  I didn’t understand all of what the Colonel said, just as I didn’t comprehend all I’d just heard and saw. But one startling fact stuck out. “I saw you in the images on the mirror,” I said, realizing if it was true, the man sitting across from me was almost 3000 years old. “Your voice too. You’re Colonel Ibrahim from the images!”

  “Correct,” said the Colonel of the West. “I am Colonel Ibrahim. And this,” he added patting the white-clad gargoyle on its shoulder, “is Dr. Mindebee, my loyal friend through all these centuries.”

  I started to ask another question, but Roos interrupted me. “So,” he said, rubbing his chin, “if what ye said is true, the immortal bloods were once mortal. Transformed by the cataclysm.”

  “Yes, every one.”

  “And the Corpse Lord draws upon knowledge that dates to the time of the cataclysm.”

  “I see where you are going, Crusader Roos,” said Colonel Ibrahim, the Colonel of the West. “But you’re only half correct.” He targeted his explanation to Roos and myself. “He is an immortal blood, or greater elf. You know him as the Corpse Lord, or the Necromancer King.” He exchanged glances with the gargoyle. “We know him as the dictator, General Mzali.”

  “The one who’s responsible for the cataclysm?” asked Lilly. “Started the plague, even killing his own men?”

  “One in the same,” said Colonel Ibrahim.

  “The Blood-Sword does the same thing the plague did,” said Lilly. “He made it?”

  “Again, you’re half correct.” He nodded to the gargoyle. “Dr. Mindebee, would you care to explain?”

  The gargoyle flexed his wings and shifted position on his pedestal. “The sword you’ve borne contains a martyr’s soul. One of Mzali’s recruits who spread the plague.”

  Learning Lilly’s dual nature made it possible for me to comprehend a man’s mind trapped inside the stone creature perched on the pedestal. But the gritty voice of a gargoyle made him hard to understand.