Terry W. Ervin (48 page)

Lilly sat on her cot, watching me as I leaned against the wall in thought. Roos sat on his cot, cleaning his rifle and shifting his attention between me and the sheathed Blood-Sword leaning against the wall next to me.

“Well?” Lilly asked. “Are you going to trade?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “He’s offering a smaller version of what we saw. And his restrictions.” I shrugged my shoulders. “But—”

Lilly jumped to her feet, nearly toppling her cot. “You can’t use it to blow up the Necromancer King! And when Roos asked if he’d send the bomb on a rocket like in the pictures, he said, ‘No!’”

“It would appear,” said Roos, “that the immortal bloods have formed a pact and the Immortal Blood Ibrahim intends to adhere to it.”

“He said others are stretching it!” yelled Lilly. “He should too!” With arms folded, she stomped over to a far corner. After a few breaths she turned to face me again. “He’s not on our side. He doesn’t care what happens. He just cares about keeping his agreement and getting your sword.”

“It is not Hawk’s sword, friend Lilly. It is the property of his prince. He entrusted Hawk to trade it for a weapon to defeat the Corpse Lord’s invasion.”

“I know whose sword it is!”

“No, Lilly. Roos is right. I have to decide if what Colonel Ibrahim offers can achieve that.”

“Yeah, I heard the deal,” said Lilly, leaning her back against the wall. “He gives you the bomb. We fight our way into the stronghold where the panzers and Stukas are built because you’ve been there—which you really haven’t. You plant it, and get away before HE detonates it.”

Lilly stomped back to her cot and flopped down onto it. “Oh,” she said, sitting back up, “and the primary targets are the zombies harboring the damned souls of Nazi scientists and engineers, whatever those are.”

I tried to be optimistic. “I did convince him that us going back with Belinda the cursed, and have her attempt to drop us on the shore in the Necromancer King’s domain was too dangerous.”

“Right,” said Lilly. “Just crossing again in her boat would be bad enough!”

“And that going back to Keesee to gather a military force to reach the stronghold is impossible with all the dormant zombies in the mountains. And a second raid on dragons is probably now guarded against.”

“Right,” said Lilly, “so out of the kindness of his cold heart, he offered to fly us across and let us parachute in like you did before.”

“Friend Lilly, targeting the souled zombies harboring the knowledge is wise. Without them the Corpse Lord cannot rebuild.”

Lilly walked over and faced Roos. “And what’s to stop the Necromancer King from summoning the Nazi souls back and stuffing them in another innocent body?”

“Friend Lilly, ye do not know the perils of dealing with the devil.”

“And I suppose you do, Crusader? He did it once already, why not again?”

“It took the foul Corpse Lord centuries to enact his plan, friend Lilly. Would it not take him centuries again, assuming the battle is not carried all the way to the very gates of the Corpse Lord’s castle?”

Lilly threw her arms out in anger. “And where does that leave us? Even if we don’t get blown up, we’ll be stuck, surrounded by goblins, ogres, giants, zombies, sorcerers, and who knows what else.” She turned to me. “Flank Hawk, how many of your group survived? And you had dragons to escape on.”

I walked over to Lilly and Roos. The Crusader set the cleaning of his rifle aside. “Ye have decided, friend Hawk?”

“Lilly, you don’t have to go.” I held up my hand and spoke over her protest. “Hear me out. I can make part of the deal for the sword that he must see you’re safely returned to the Faxtinian lands. Same with you, Roos. I alone agreed to my prince’s request.”

“What do I have to go back to?” said Lilly. “And I’m not staying here with that cold-hearted Colonel and his creepy stone goblin.”

“I am with ye, friend Hawk. Sacrifices must be made to defeat evil.”

“And to safeguard family and friends,” I added. Although my heart was swelling with pride, my gut ached, knowing my friends were joining a one way mission. And they knew it. “Thank you, both. I’d never have gotten this far without you. And I honestly can’t imagine how I’d complete my mission without you.”

“Our mission,” said Lilly, hugging me so tight it was hard to breathe.

We were again blindfolded before boarding what Colonel Ibrahim called a truck. The wooden bench that I sat on vibrated and bounced with the road while beneath me the sheathed Blood-Sword rattled with each bump. Lilly sat on my left, leaning against me and Roos sat on my right, closest to the truck’s exit. Across from us sat Colonel Ibrahim. I heard two other soldiers climb in after us.

The ride from Mountain Base 1 to what Colonel Ibrahim called an airfield would have been silent, like our previous blindfolded ride, except for the discussion between Roos and the Colonel.

I didn’t fully understand their debate on what they called ‘the three monotheistic religions’, Christianity, Islam and Judaism, the last of which Colonel Ibrahim professed to follow. I put together that Judaism and Christianity were once the same but split thousands of years before the cataclysm. Apparently, throughout the centuries, bloody wars had been waged between the three religions. What they were debating was the Colonel’s coming to believe that all three were actually worshiping different, but equally valid, aspects of the same God.

Roos seemed very knowledgeable but never discussed his religion much. He read scriptures from a book and prayed with his cross and beads, but never called Lilly or I to follow, unlike so many of the priests to the gods I knew. Then, I recalled Lilly warning me not to ask Roos unless I wanted an earful.

After about a half hour their discussion turned to something that I understood. Roos asked Colonel Ibrahim, “Why do ye accept the service of a fallen angel?”

“Because he serves my needs. My outposts are few and scattered which necessitates that they function independently. His presence and abilities enable that.”

“What binds him to thee?” asked Roos. “Does thee not question thy fallen angel’s loyalty and wisdom? He did turn away from the Lord of All.”

The Colonel’s voice switched from conversational to rigid. “Do not forget that in the years since the cataclysm, I have become more than a simple military officer.”

“Ye are an Immortal Blood, but ye are not a god.”

Roos voice had become gruff and this concerned me. I tried to think of something to say to alter the course of the deteriorating conversation.

“Unlike most of the others,” replied Colonel Ibrahim, “I have not claimed to be one. Would you rather my fallen angel now be in the service of the one below?”

Although the Colonel’s tone had softened in his reply, I saw my opening. “Who would the others be?” As hoped, my interjection into the conversation caused a switch in direction.

“Friend Hawk, the one ye names Uplersh and Fendra Jolain are Immortal Bloods that claim to be goddesses.”

The Colonel added, “Others prominent in Europe and northern Africa would be Algaan, whose followers tout him as god of nature and M’Kishmael, who is worshipped by farmers and herders.”

“Algaan’s priests,” I said, “bless weapons against evil. I’ve used them against zombies. My family sacrifices a portion of our harvest each year to M’Kishmael.”

“They are all false gods,” Roos declared.

“While they are not gods,” countered the Colonel, “they are powerful and may look out for those who choose to worship them.”

“Friend Hawk, which weapons blessed are most effective against zombies and other evil? Those blessed in the name of the true God of the Crusaders? Or those that claim to be gods, such as Algaan?”

Lilly elbowed me in the ribs. “I warned you about getting him going.”

“Maybe,” I said to Roos, “your God is stronger in blessing weapons against evil. But I also admit that Algaan is a stronger god than M’Kishmael. Because one wizard is weaker than another does not undo the fact that he is a wizard.”

“Nor, friend, Hawk, does becoming a powerful wizard establish one as a god.” Conviction permeated the Crusader’s voice as he continued. “The strongest magics of those ye name gods, friend Hawk, cannot penetrate the heart and body of one who faithfully worships, nor can they withstand weapons blessed by saints who serve my God. Do not forget what happened at sea on the Sunset Siren.”

Roos uttered the last words as if he’d ended all debate on the issue, and that got under my skin. “I recall Lilly diving overboard to save you.”

“Gentlemen,” said the Colonel. “Your guide, Lilly, is correct. Trust me, it was discovered centuries before my birth, and will certainly continue to be true well beyond my existence, that few discussions are more disruptive to a friendship than religion.”

“The Immortal Blood is correct, friend Hawk. Neither debate with thy tongue, nor threat with thy blade will bring one to faith. The best witness to faith or friendship is through example and sacrifice.”

We sat silent for a moment until the growl of the truck’s engine began to cycle down.

“We’re almost there,” said Colonel Ibrahim. “You are welcome to remove your blindfolds.”

I removed my black blindfold, blinked, and set it in the outstretched hand of the young soldier sitting across from me. Roos and Lilly did the same.

Colonel Ibrahim lowered a half door and hopped out of the canvas-covered truck into the crisp morning air. I grabbed the Blood-Sword and followed Roos out into a tree-lined valley sheltered by tall mountains. The truck had stopped next to a huge building that looked like a barrel half buried in the ground. Sliding doors the size of small barns stood open, through which I saw the shadowy outline of an Osprey lined up next to several other flying machines.

Lilly grabbed my shoulder and pointed. “What are those?”

I turned to see a pair of great gray beasts with fan-like ears and curved tusks jutting from their mouths. With a dangling flexible nose, short tail and pillar-like legs, they were unlike anything I’d ever seen. A man held onto the leading beast’s leather harness, directing the pair with a long stick down a path away from the building.

“Elephants,” said the Colonel. “Excellent working animals for timber cutting operations, hauling and construction.”

I recalled the giant pulling panzers on a wagon. A team of elephants could do the same.

“They just pulled the Hercules from the hanger.” He directed us around the truck to show us the Hercules. “Only aircraft I have that has the range needed for you to continue your mission.”

Sitting at the end of a long flat road was a green-skinned aircraft more than twice the size of the Osprey. It even had four fans to propel it through the air. While soldiers on ladders examined the fan blades and wings, two men directed an elephant hauling a cart up the aircraft’s aft ramp. The cart held a black container that reminded me of a full waterskin.

“Additional fuel for the engines,” said Colonel Ibrahim.

Roos nodded knowingly.

Two soldiers brought us our gear from another truck, including my satchel, spear and Roos’ rifle and backpack.

The Colonel’s gargoyle companion, Dr. Mindebee, approached us on all fours, still wearing his white coat. Four soldiers, each pair supporting a litter between them, followed. I recognized three stuffed parachute packs on one litter. The other bore a single leather backpack with reinforced straps.

The gargoyle stopped in front of Colonel Ibrahim. “Everything is prepared.”

“Very good, Doctor. Please attend to Mercenary Flank Hawk and his team while I final-brief the aircrew.” Without waiting for an answer he strode towards the Hercules.

The gargoyle pointed with a clawed hand for the soldiers to set the equipment down. Then he motioned for me. Standing over the leather backpack, he stared at me before explaining, “This pack carries a thermonuclear device with a two-kiloton explosive yield. Do you understand?”

I shook my head. “Those words have no meaning to me,” I said. “Just tell me how it works and what I must do to place it.”

“Shut up,” said the gargoyle, throwing his arms up in the air and pacing around the litter holding the backpack. “That is what I am attempting to do. Shut up and listen and you will understand. The device contains alpha-phase plutonium encased in a beryllium reflector—”

I’d already been told once. I’d never understand what made it explode. “Look,” I said, interrupting the agitated gargoyle, “what you’re saying is like if I said Goll grull haw awhk to you.”

“I speak the foul tongue,” replied the gargoyle, standing erect, bearing its tusks and flexing its wings. “Telling me to devour my own feces, ignorant peasant masquerading as a warrior?”

At that moment I learned a number of things: What the phrase Road Toad used to enrage ogres actually meant. That it has the same effect on gargoyles. And that Roos could draw his revolver as fast as Lilly could draw her dagger; a fraction of a second faster than my short sword cleared its sheath.

We all stood frozen. The four nearby soldiers had their handguns drawn and aimed at us. Roos held his cocked revolver’s muzzle ten inches from the gargoyle’s snarling face. I think Lilly would’ve leapt on the stone creature, but she knew the result of taking a saint-blessed bullet.