Ekleipsis (16 page)

Vandor stood, leaving his
sword, and walked to his saddle bags upon Korb. From the bag he
pulled a book. He walked back and held it out to Wiltzer. Wiltzer
took the book with both hands. Its cover was made of black leather,
somewhat faded, with tattered edges. The pages looked dirty and
used. The inscription was worn, but the title could still be
faintly seen,
King Salvare’s Book of
Wisdom
. Wiltzer took the book, holding it
in awe; it was a history and a revelation of which he had never
read.

Wiltzer offered Vandor back
his grandfather’s sword, but Vandor asked him to keep it.
“Regardless of the circumstances, if indeed my grandfather gave you
the sword, then it is yours. It may also serve as proof to what you
must tell your emperor and people regarding the coming threat to
all of Erde.”

Wiltzer acknowledged Vandor’s words
and agreed. Wiltzer stood, as did Damaris, and spoke. “We must be
on our way to Hozekan to warn our people and share this book with
Emperor Penuh Harap. I will share with him the story of the man and
his sword, and your story of Erde and what you have recently seen.
There is much preparation that must be made and I fear we have no
time.”

Wiltzer paused, taking a glance at
Kayla, then returning to Vandor, “Where are you two
headed?”

“We were on our way to see my
grandfather in Trachten. I feel I must continue that direction to
see if indeed it was he of whom you speak, or if by chance it was
his friend Dartego, or yet even another,” Vandor
answered.

“Dear Sir, Trachten is no
place for the likes of you two. It is crawling with detestable
creatures that cannot be numbered. I am fearful that even the
flying beast frequently returns there. If you are captured you will
surely be tortured and lose your life for naught. Do you not fear
death? If by chance your grandfather or friend were yet alive in
Trachten, they most likely would have perished by now,” Wiltzer
begged.

“I shall only pass along
the outskirts of Trachten, and turn upward toward Signum where the
Sealed dwell in Kirche. It may be that my grandfather and or
Dartego were able to escape the attack, and made it there to warn
them. If they have not, then I shall share the news of Trachten and
that of Nesal to the
Auctoritas,
Ciafus. The Sealed will be our only chance if we
are to survive an attack of an army, which may have only been
growing while sitting in silence. There are also some questions we
have for them there,” Vandor told.

“I must say I fear for your
safety, but we have no time to stand here arguing over what must be
done. May the Creator grant you protection against those wicked
souls. I pray we shall meet again as friends, and that our people
may know one another. Perhaps at the return of this righteous king
of yours, it may be so,” Wiltzer replied.

Within such a short time, seemingly
foes became friends, with a common desire: to save the souls of
Erde (and Hozekan) from the Darkness. Wiltzer and Damaris headed
toward Hozekan upon their ponies, with Vandor and Kayla riding
their mustangs toward Trachten. Over their shoulders, they wished
each other well upon their journeys.

Meeting of the
Gibborims

It was a chilly, dark night
when the Gibborims met under the full moon inside the halls of the
castle of their eldest brother. Jagare was the totalitarian over
them and their surrounding lesser kingdoms, upon Mount Dauthus in
Oscuridad. It was not so much that they submitted to his rule
full-heartedly with gladness, but more so by an instilled fear from
childhood. His dominance and demand for prominence had been since
birth.

§ § § §

Born of the wives and concubines
of Galtare were these. Jagare was born of Galtare’s first wife
Elinora, who Galtare slew in anger. Essen, his second wife, bore
him Desgosto, yet died of consumption when he was but three. Of the
concubine Mayaton were born the twins Baitrs and Begeren. Most
beloved, she also bore him Zolba his youngest child of eleven.
Gniew, his fifth child, coming after Begeren, was born of the
concubine Salena. Taken against her will from Nikoden, she bore him
in disgust, so Galtare gave her over to his Gottlos as a
prostitute. Karlami, yet another concubine, bore him his second
twins Hatan and Himo. His third wife Vira bore him yet a third set
of twins, Abejoti and Ahnews, along with his tenth child before
Zolba, named Pyktis.

Eldest, Jagare was a most
hateful child. Each of the brothers could clearly remember the
times that Jagare caused them pain and sufferings for his mere
pleasure. Most were emotional scars tucked deep away, which made
them grow angered and terrible toward all creatures. But there were
also those who bore the physical marks of their brother’s torments
upon them; such as Pyktis’ missing little finger upon his left
hand, and the scar across the cheek of Gniew. Fear of Jagare caused
them to lash out happily upon all else that was, merely venting
their frustrations which drew from another source.

A council of hatred this
was: hatred for all that was right and good in the sight of the
people of Erde, and their precious missed King Salvare. Jagare was
well-voiced in playing this hatred of all, which he himself had
caused to form within the bosoms of his kin, to his favor and
desires. His brothers were easily persuaded and he looked at them
as evolutionary lesser, as delinquent handicaps. To him, they were
none other than obedient fools, no greater than the Gottlos they
commanded, yet he told them not. Jagare had always played their
egos and madness against them, to easily persuade their allegiance
to his causes.

§ § § §

This night was important,
as the Gibborims arrived at Jagare’s castle to discuss the ideals
of their brother. Enormous stone walls encompassed the banquet
hall, which was large enough to hold at least a hundred mighty men.
Centered in the room were a row of two solid twelve-foot wooden
tables covered in wild game and domestic meats, fresh and preserved
vegetables and fruits, variety of breads, with bitter wines and
strong drink to fill their rages. A splendid feast had been
prepared, with cushioned chairs and golden steins awaiting their
arrival.

Oscuridad, being home to
Jagare and all of his kin, they were soon gathered together at the
center atop Mount Dauthus. Hatan, Baitrs, Gniew, Pyktis, and Zolba
from the north arrived first. Soon to follow were Desgosto,
Abejoti, Himo, Ahnews, and Begeren from the south. They merely
awaited Jagare’s presence.

These mighty men towered
above the normal people of Erde, in height and depth. Some said
they were possessed by Ubils, the evil spirits, giving them
supernatural ability. Some went as far back as Judarius, claiming
he was the offspring of a fallen Malaikat (a spiritual messenger of
the Great Creator, God, whereby a Malaikat became an Ubil when
fallen from obedience). They believed his mother Bailite, who
claimed she was overtaken by an invisible oppressor, brought forth
from her womb the seed of mankind and Malaikat (Ubil) unto all his
kindred. Yet there were also those who gave no credence to
supernatural ideas, saying it was merely evolutionary natural
selection at work. By whatever means, they were feared indeed, and
were known throughout Erde as the Gibborims.

From the time of the
piercing of Jagare, which brought him beyond the veil of death,
only to be returned to the living by the power of Rubicund, that
dragon from Kriminala Pasaule, with the pale Piradad, they remained
still. Whereas Erde was able to rest for a season, they had grown
weary of rest and desired to fill their evil lusts. They waited
only for the permission of their eldest brother Jagare, to delight
themselves in the acting out their vain imaginations upon the
people of Erde.

Dressed in a mixture of fur, leather,
and metal armory, there were helmets, swords, daggers, shields and
the like, hung on the walls, worn on their sides, and laid around
the room as they waited in anticipation. They dared not disrespect
Jagare by tasting that which lay upon the tables while he was not
among them. They knew he was merely testing them and by no means
did any wish to endure his wrath.

The room was filled with
derogatory talk of the vilest things. Chat of kidnapping children
for slaves, taking young maidens as concubines, slaying the old and
crippling the young men, and what to do about Kirche and the
Sealed. Once in their grasp, they believed all light would vanish
in their grip. They did not realize they were merely pawns in the
hands of their brother the Wicked One, and if successful in their
banishment of light, what then should they have? For in Darkness,
what then could be seen?

A cracking sound came as
the door opened. All twisted to the entrance, quieting their
grumblings of violence. Frozen as statues, refusing to blink, they
expected their brother to appear. Piradad entered the room,
allowing the brothers’ stony hearts to briefly relax.

Piradad was but a small
skeleton to these brothers, yet they listened to him speak, for
they knew Jagare must be most near. “Dear brothers of Jagare, ye
Gibborims take heed. The time of your wait is now over. Now enters
the days of the fulfillment of your lusts by lord Jagare Morte. Him
shall ye serve. Him shall ye obey, that your desires may be
fulfilled throughout all of Erde.”

A voice of cheers, with the pounding
of fists upon the tables, the Gibborims’ blood thirsty souls
united. Then there was silence as Jagare entered the room, with
Piradad stepping aside to give way.

“My dear brothers,” Jagare called,
walking toward the tables, opening his arms as if to embrace them.
“I have long awaited this reunion of the children of our father
Galtare, seed of our grandfather Judarius, son of the chosen
Bailite and the power of Darkness.”

Pausing, he reached his
arms toward the tables, “Sit my brothers, tonight we meet for the
purpose of a new order for the Land of Erde.”

As they took their seats,
he moved to his place at the head of the tables, facing the
direction of the entrance from whence he had come.

While the brothers sat,
Jagare stood at the forefront. “My brothers, I am Jagare the eldest
son of Galtare, son of Judarius, heir of the Darkness, slayer of
the old king of Erde, and am hereby worthy to be called king of all
of Erde!”

His eyes peered from side
to side, taking notice of his brothers’ countenances as he
continued. “To this end have I called you here. To this end will I
rise to power and slay all who oppose me. I shall be their master
and I shall be a god unto them. Ye shall be my horsemen as all in
Erde bow the knee to King Jagare!”

With no cheers, only
silence, Jagare asked, “What say ye?”

The stillness at the tables was broken
by Desgosto, the second born. He stood to face Jagare, equal in
height but slightly broader. Talking with his hands, the tight
brass wrist bands caused his forearms to bulge. “Brother Jagare,
what is this that you speak? Why cannot Erde be broken into eleven
kingdoms for us all?”

A few mumbled comments of agreement
came from the twins, Baitrs and Begeren, but all else were
quiet.

“What right do you have for all of
Erde that we do not all share, being all sons of Galtare and sons
of Judarius?” Desgosto asked, making eye contact with all of his
brothers, and then returning to Jagare.

“Dear Desgosto, my brother. What have
you done worthy of an inheritance of Erde? Have you not sat in your
castle as a spoiled child doing nothing? Did you avenge the attempt
on my life? You have but lived off of my power and might, and there
shall you remain,” calmly but firm, replied Jagare.

Pointing fiercely at Jagare, Desgosto
claimed, “A lie! I have asked you for nothing and shall never ask
you for anything! You were yet vile to us as children, and here
remain one that thinks he is above all.” Desgosto’s voice and blood
pressure rose, as the thoughts of childhood and the years of hate
of his brother Jagare, bottled up inside, began to release
themselves all at once. “We have allowed you the rule you hold, but
I am afraid of you no more. You are but a brute beast!”

Tension built in the room.
The brothers held still with silence, glancing back and forth
between the stares of Jagare and Desgosto. This was not the first
argument they had seen between brothers, but it had been many years
since one had been brave enough to challenge Jagare directly. It
was by this means that Gniew bore the scar on his face from the
angered slash of a blackened dagger from Jagare, and the loss of
Pyktis’ little finger by the same dagger and fierceness of Jagare.
These two remained silent: Gniew subconsciously touched his scar,
while Pyktis looked down at his left hand.

“Dear Desgosto, do you
despise that which you have been given? Do you believe you merit
more? By chance, do you hold the notion that you should be king of
Erde, with me and your brothers as your servants?” questioned
Jagare.

“Your words are meaningless
Jagare, which you have always used to your gain. You have given me
nothing, but our father Galtare has given us all lordship over
portions of Oscuridad. You have given us nothing, but desire to
take all of Erde to yourself and even now to enslave your own
brothers to be but your mere servants,” Desgosto
answered.