Angels of War (Angels of War Trilogy Book 1) (33 page)

“Joan.”

Joan turned on her heels and drew her silver blade from its sheath. All this occurred before the familiar voice finished her name.
 

“Satan.” The name fell from her lips like rough stone.

Lucifer sat perched on a rock. He crossed his legs. One swung to some unheard tune. His black eyes glittered like glass marbles. He stared at her. A black robe hung over his emaciated body. His dead, pale face, contorted in a grimace. Two small red horns pushed up from his forehead. “Joan.”
 

His eyes flicked up to the pennant ten feet above, furling against the frosty wind.

Joan’s chest tightened. Her mind scrambled at her options until a distant voice, God’s gentle voice, told her to calm down. “You. Why are you here?”

Lucifer chuckled. The noise resembled a mischievous child caught in a wrongful act. His eyes remained wide open. The obsidian orbs fell over her beautiful armor. “Front row seat, Joan. You’re well dressed for the occasion.”

Joan regarded him like a dangerous animal. She held her sword at his throat. “Here to play your games, Lucifer?”

“Joan, my powers are not strong towards other angelic creatures when I’m not in Hell, not until the back door opens. To humans I’m a pestilence to be feared.”

“Why are you here?”

The devil’s eyes narrowed as he formed his thoughts. “I’m here to offer you a proposition.”

Joan lowered her blade. Its honed edge flashed from the sun rising higher into the sky behind the devil. She used her angelic powers to shade her eyes from the glare.
 

“I don’t want any offers from you. But, you can tell that army…” She pointed her sword’s dangerous tip west. “To disband and go home. All those of earth will be forgiven, and Temeculus and his spawns can return to Hell until Judgment Day.”

Lucifer chuckled. “Come now, Joan of Arcadia, Joan the Gladiator of Rome, Joan the Greek, Joan the defender of Heaven and earth, Joan the housewife who once lived in Georgia, who lost her family and faith not so long ago, etcetera and etcetera…”

“Stop.” Joan took a step forward lifting her gladius. Sweat trickled down her brown face, the white horsehair plume upon her helmet trembled.

“Fearsome,” he said. “God did you wrong, Joan. So much anger He’s caused you. He fears me, He fears what I can do if I’m released upon the earth.”

Joan held her blade steady. She wanted to drive her sword into his thin chest.
 

Lucifer leaned forward. “Joan, imagine, one life with no more pain, no more loss.” He lifted a thin frail hand, palms up.

Joan’s eyes widened with furry, a deep heat burned in her lower belly, the sword blade shook in her hand. “My family did not die for nothing.”

Lucifer lifted his other hand and held them both out to plead with her. “Come to me, Joan. Your place is set in Heaven. You will live amongst my angels, the ones God and Michael tossed from those pearly gates.” He lifted his hands higher, his face, once hard, softened. His eyes lost their empty stone blackness and became as gentle as a puppy’s.

Joan blinked, his voice echoed in her mind, so soft and fat with comfort. Darkness lurked behind the voice and burned with a hate more powerful than a billion suns. Her mouth gaped open. She detached herself from the world, from her family months long dead. She placed herself upon the mountain, upon her present now. “Get behind me, Satan! Or I will strike you down where you squat.”

Satan bolted from his seat and howled like a tortured wolf. “You will regret your words.” He stood his ground and eyed the sword Joan held. “I’ll see you in Hell. I’ll crucify you and all those who dwell in Heaven. I will throw orgies amongst your dead and broken bodies.”
 

Lucifer vanished in a yellow puff. The phlegmy smoke curled and reeked with rotten eggs. Sulfur. Once he fled the mountain, a horn blared from behind her.
 

Joan spun around.
 

She beheld the sky in the west clotted with black and red clouds. In the distance upon the ground, the human forces in their vehicles raced towards the mountains along Route I-70. The black clouds crept forward, keeping pace with the mortals beneath them.

Joan smiled. “About time. We need to get this done.” She stretched her wings upon her back, leaped from the rock, and took flight towards Denver.
 

60

Joan flew into Denver. The entire city teemed with frantic activity. Soldiers rushed to the heavy barricade piled high with sandbags and concrete Jersey Barriers. Tanks rolled forward from Mile High Stadium. Air Force jets began to taxi down the Denver International Airport runway.
 

She banked hard to approach the airport. Below her stood the ten thousand troops adorned in bright armor. The cavalry soldiers waited next to their mounts along side the infantry and archers.

Joan drew her sword and landed before the Guardians. She gave a mighty shout. The Guardians drew their swords, thrust their bright blades into the air, and delivered a shout behind hers. Her heart thrummed at the scene.

In the crisp morning sky, gold flashed against the blue. The light grew larger. A white warhorse gilded in gold armor snorted and galloped towards Joan and alighted before her. She slipped her left foot into the golden stirrup, and swung a brown muscled thigh over the saddle. Joan mounted Basil and trotted her before the troops arrayed in silver armor.

“Hello, Basil,” Joan said to her mare. Basil’s ears flicked, her large armored head nodded in acknowledgement.
 

Joan pulled on the golden reins and walked Basil to face the formation. “May God be with you all,” she shouted. A powerful cheer roared and echoed off the buildings and shook the airport terminal windows.
 

Joan spurred her warhorse, urging her into a trot before the army. Sunlight spun off breastplates, greaves, helmets, and silver tipped spears.
 

“Today we fight a battle for the entire universe. Yes, I’m asking a lot from you, but I want you to give of yourselves. We will all give of ourselves on the battlefield today. Remember those we defend. From the child living on the shores of Maine, to the old man in the green mountains of Ireland, and the family in the Philippines sitting before their televisions. We fight for them on this day.”
 

She trotted Basil down the line, giving the army time to absorb her weighty words. “So set aside your fears. If you die in battle, glory will await you in Heaven. When they die, suffering in Hell will be their fortune for all eternity.”
 

Joan moved Basil about. The mare snorted and nodded her beautiful head to confirm the words spoken by the angel. “Rely on your faith in God, and in your weapons and training, and you will not go wrong, you will never go wrong. Send them to Hell. Send them all to their deaths.”

The Guardians sent up another cheer. A few windows within the terminal cracked. Their voices reached Denver like thunder and rolled against skyscrapers and the Rockies.

Joan turned to her angels. “Follow me and wait for my orders to attack.”

Daisy Lane nodded along with the others.

Joan lifted her sword, the cheers redoubled. She waved her sword above her head, its blade flashed like quicksilver from the sun. “Cavalry, mount up and follow me.”

Joan charged Basil ahead at a full gallop. The mare raced down a clear runway and into the air. Joan’s two thousand cavalry followed her up into the sky.
 

Maria drew her blade, the first to lead the infantry forward. They jogged ahead, following the runway, and took to the air as if they ran up a short hill.
 

The army moved off the ground upon a thick white cloud formed underneath their feet. Their armor rattled in perfect rhythm, the horse’s hooves rolled deep like thunder. Gold and white pennants snapped, horns blew, cheers resounded across the scene filled with energy and hope.

Maria flapped her wings. Her heart pumped hard in her chest, she never been in battle. She always protected one particular client. Now she found herself in her first major fight. Her brown eyes trailed the path Joan made with her cavalry. In the distant west, a dark cloud loomed over the Rocky Mountains and grew larger.

Juggernaut lifted a golden horn to his lips and blew. He drew his sword, deployed his powerful wings upon his back, and led his formation upwards. The soldiers followed close at a full run to keep up with Maria’s company who ran at their front.
 

God gave the human army a sweet cloud to run upon, and ran they did. The Guardians cleared the airport in tight disciplined formations. Their armor gleamed like silver pieces underneath the late morning sun.
 

They continued upwards and upwards, two thousand feet, until the cloud became flat as ground. The army ran and never tired. God blessed the Guardians with the strength needed to fight the Black Army. He granted them the power to stand before the evil from Hell.

Joan held her sword high as the cavalry raced behind her. “Come on, stay with me.”
 

Her voice carried back to the cavalry as they charged towards the massive black cloud. The dark mass passed the mountain range, remained steady along Route I-70, following the enemy ground troops below who rode in their vehicles.
 

Within the thick clouds, she spotted her enemies from a distance. Temeculus tried to keep up with the mortal soldiers below, in hopes to provide them some protection from the jets above. Yet his Hell born sycophants seemed too eager to plunge into the fight. They broke their formations and turned into a mob instead.

In Heaven, the archangel Michael stood before God’s throne adorned in his golden armor. He rested his hand on his sword hilt. Everyone in Heaven stopped their activities and stared below at the two armies headed towards each other.

God leaned forward in his throne made from precious metals never seen upon the earth. Heaven’s entire host stood transfixed as the armies charged ahead. Thunder rolled as the warhorses rode the clouds beneath them. The roll resounded to Heaven’s ancient walls and made them tremble.
 

61

From a distance Joan sighted the undead Roman soldiers who sold their souls to Hell. She pointed her sword and gave a war cry. The cavalry raced above Denver, headed for the open land to meet the enemy.
 

Joan and her cavalry cleared the Denver city limits as the Black Army moved over the jagged Rocky Mountains and traveled along green flatland dotted with small towns. Joan’s cavalry picked up their pace. Hooves pounded against the clouds. Throaty shouts hit the air.
 

The Guardian cavalry ate up the distance at a full run. Faces contorted, swords and spears lifted above silver helmets. Pennants snapped in the cool Colorado morning, horns blared. They crashed into the enemy with an explosive rattle.
 

Metal crunched and battle calls and screams resounded over the clouds. The cavalry led by Joan drove into General Temeculus’s troops like a spear point into flesh. The collision hurtled riders from their horses.

To Joan, time slowed for a moment as she faced her first kill. The Roman soldier drew his sword to strike. The angel leaned to her right, her left hand gripping the saddle horn. Her blade rippled silver light from its edge as she stared into the black holes where eyes once sat. With one smooth motion her sword struck against a rotted neck, decapitating the soldier’s gruesome head. Time returned to normal. The severed head tumbled from the body and towards the earth below.

Joan hacked and slashed her way into the undead Romans. Gore splattered her golden armor in clumps as she cut down the enemy who fell into her path.
 

Spears lunged up to dismount the angel from Basil’s powerful body. She killed them for their meager efforts and sent their worthless souls back to Hell.
 

The cavalry fought the way Joan and the angels trained them to fight. Many leaped from their warhorses to engage the enemy upon the flat clouds underneath their feet. They struck down the horrors from Hell, sent their dead bodies to drop amongst their human counterparts like horrific missiles.
 

To the uninitiated, the scene appeared chaotic. For those in the battle, the fight fell to speed and target engagement amongst the constant screams and blood spray. Some Guardians though, fell to the enemy blades.
 

Joan fought hard upon Basil until the enemy made a space for her. This frustrated the angel who leaped from her warhorse and hurtled herself into the black armor amassed around her. She cut down two more, and spun to face her infantry waiting a quarter mile from the fight.
 

“Daisy, attack.” Joan’s powerful voice boomed over the battle din.
 

Daisy Lane led her company into the fight. She smiled in bated pride when Joan charged ahead, sword raised above her white horsehair plume. Her cavalry took on an inverted V formation and plunged into the undisciplined black armor like a silver tipped spear.
 

Daisy gave a shout as her troops neared the enemy. She lifted her sword as strong battle cries from the Guardians filled her ears. Her troops plowed into the foe. Silver blades tore into putrid flesh.
 

Bones cracked and splintered as she butchered her way into a black sea made of armor. The battle raged around her with fury. Bodies fell from her attack. Her hate for Satan, and her eagerness to avenge those who died by their evil hands fueled her rage.
 

Daisy fought her way into the thick battle until she reached Joan. With an armored covered hand slathered in gore, she touched her leader on the shoulder. “Joan.” She pointed with her heavy sword. “General Temeculus.”

Joan turned. The general sat atop his gruesome chariot powered by two warhorses armored in black. He remained a good distance from the frontline. The Screamers, dressed in heavy black armor, surrounded him.

“Shall we take him?”

The general recognized Joan from amongst the turbulent battle. “No. He’s too well protected, and we need to keep an eye on what’s going on below us.”