The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth (52 page)

Such wonders I must show you, Vanessa, such things you will want to see. Below here lies power the likes you have never dreamed. And now, it is mine, all mine…you will see and stay with me as my apprentice, forever…

The whispering words of Salah Cam finally overpowered her resistance. The tear fell onto her scarred cheek. She felt her magic would not get past the forces around her, there was nowhere to run, and nothing to do but wait. Vanessa watched as the dark tunnel opened into an orange light. Closer, then lower, the tentacles had no end it seemed. Deep under Arouland she went, to a place with no stairs, to where she would never be found.

She stifled a scream, and closed her eyes. For a moment, as she passed out of the underground tunnel, she thought she saw the rotted face of Salah Cam. It looked massive, like a giant gray and black mound of flesh in the bottom of a fiery pit surrounded by flowing lava. She thought she had seen hundreds of tentacles, of every size, some thousands of feet long sprouting from this face that was as large as a palace.

“This i
s not real, just an illusion
, it’s not real Vanessa
.” She opened her eyes
after speaking to herself aloud
.

“
No, it is all to
o
real…come to me…”
The corrupted necrotic mass that looked as Salah Cam smiled, and spoke with its mouth of hundreds of feet in width, deep in the pit. The tentacle brought her lower, closer, and then she screamed like there was no tomorrow.

“Do not be afraid of me, Vanessa.” Salah Cam winked with his black eye he had formed in this ancient creature that he now was a part of. His body had been very busy, corrupting this titan of the deep places the past few weeks. It was as if it wanted his spirit, a conscience, it craved the completion. So, he did what any old necromancer without a body would have. Now, he was it, it was him, there was no arcane bond or trick here. “I will need you for many things, I am not going to consume you.”

The mouth that spoke right below her had teeth as large as bridges, the tentacle held her right above it, and she was paralyzed with fear of being eaten. She trembled, pushed back with her feet, but there was nowhere to go besides a
n endless
lake of slime that was burning
with
orange
flames
on the surface.

“You, you are not going to kill me?”
She stuttered.

“Not unless you disobey me. Ha ha ha
ha…
ha, ha!!!!
”
Salah Cam laughed so hard that chunks of rock
fell from his echoes, the underground sea
of flame
sloshed with
the
vibration
of his words
, and
he curled his massive appendages
in delight. He was but a thing of flesh with tentacles and a face, no arms, no legs, not even a head or neck. Yet in all his old ages of searching for eternity darkly, he had never felt so young and powerful.

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Johnas blocked the broadsword with his slender shield, yet he felt the blow even in his armored forearm. The blade of his uncle slashed overhead, a weak feint, and then turned to a backhanded cut. Johnas parried with his longblade, riposted with a lunge, then marched the king back with slashes and attacks directed toward his swordarm. Mikhail was tired, slowing, he saw it. He also saw the emotional victory, already taking place in the hearts of his enemy.

Lord Corey and Lord Burraine were dead, Sir Jallan of Hurne had surrendered, and Lord Dimitri of Addisonia had been captured. General Fandruss of Loucas was on a bloody knee, surrounded by fifty men, alone and without a blade.
He had killed Lord Unarvin the traitor, bravely on the field, yet Johnas cared not.
The panthers of Farrigus had done their work, obliterating in grotesque savagery the Vallakazz forces. The prince knew they had retreated or been killed, no sign of Shilde nor Lazlette.

The worst blow however, was when the men of Chazzrynn saw
Lord
Alexei T’vellon
of Southwind
fall from t
he north wall. Now
less than three hundred men, led by Marcus Mederris and King Mikhail
Salganat, were surrounded by nearly two legions. His gates were closed, his men were finishing the bloody battle in the courtyard, and he had more soldiers scouting the surrounding area for any enemy survivors. Johnas fought his own grin, knowing he had Bryant as well, and the kingdom was as good as his.
He tried not to stare at the crown atop the helm of the man he fought at this moment.

Mikhail swung low, spun with his shield to smash Johnas in the face, then twirled his broadsword in a turn to take his head. He stumbled forward, his shield caught but air, and his blade was parried. His breaths came in heaving gasps, hours of battle had taken their toll. The king ducked the longsword, then blocked another attack with his falcon crested shield, then countered and regained his footing. His blade met the shield of Johnas, then he roared in pain.

Johnas Valhera stepped back after he had cut the hand of his uncle, he waited for that anger filled counterattack. It came, twice, then four times he backed up and avoided each attack as the king swung wildly and bled the ground. The prince waited, then stepped up fast with an underhanded swing that knocked the broadsword high. Then he raised his shield, stepping up close, face to face, his green eyes inches from Mikhail’s blue angry glare. Johnas spun as his uncle’s blade came down on his shield. He saw Mikhail raise his own shield high to protect his neck, and then Johnas spun low in stead of high. His longsword went under the shield at the completion of his turn full circle, and cut deep and wide, across the waist of king Mikhail.

Before Mikhail could even see the mortal wound, his arms went low on instinct, feeling the rush of blood down his legs. Then his felt steel pierce his
chest, right below his collarbone, on his right side. His air let out, his muscles tightened, and he fell to the ground as the blade pulled free from his body. He kept one hand on his split abdomen, and the other reached for his crown before it rolled too far from his head. His fingers touched it, yet it was picked up by Johnas Valhera.

“That would be mine,
uncle
.” Johnas held the crown in his hand, then kicked Mikhail in the stomach as he squirmed for a dagger from his belt. Johnas knelt and whispered to the former king. “
Well fought, and entertaining to say the least. Stay with me now, we are not done yet.”

Johnas Valhera stood up, lifted his arm high with the crown of Chazzrynn, then raised his bloody longsword to the night sky aglow with fires and torches from every corner. His eyes caught Mikhail still reaching a trembling hand for his bloody belt, the dagger was freed. He stepped on it, then slid it with a shuffling kick across the cobblestone.

“
Your king is dead, your army is defeated, surrender and you may receive the kings’ mercy!”
He yelled it over the remaining melee, like a lion released from a cage. Johnas placed the crown on his head as his men, beasts, and masked agents
,
cheered into the dark
and crimson stained courtyards
of Castle Valhera.

“Hail! Hail! Hail!”

“
Your rule…will not…last…someone…will kill you…”
Mikhail felt his body growing cold, his blood was warm though, as it drained to the stone.

“Doubtful. Still, stay alive Mikhail. I want you to see your only son hang from my walls before I take your head.” Johnas smiled and wiped his blade with his cape.

The men of Valhirst took prisoners, disarmed the few remaining men, and secured the castle. General Fandruss, Marcus Mederris, Sir Jallan, and Lord Dimitri were marched past the now shivering Mikhail Salganat. They fought to be free, to have a word, to even die by his side. All they saw was their king reach his trembling fingers toward them, as if trying to touch them, yet he did not speak and they were carrie
d off by their captors. They spa
t at Johnas Valhera as they passed, and in turn they received a brutal escort to the prisons below Valhirst.

“Bring me the heir prince, bring me Bryant Salaganat, and some rope!” The new king of Chazzrynn smiled as the cheers for more death, for the passing of power, and for his new kingdom to wash away the old issued into the dark above.

“
Lord of Heaven…He who sacrificed all for man…kind, take me with honor…and protect…my son…Alden…my dying…wish…to die…well…without…fear…Amen…”
Mikhail was whispering, but not by choice. His lung punctured, his body failing, his words came out low and raspy as his heart drummed slower and slower.
The sign of the cross, from a blood covered trembling hand was made.
He stared at the keep, where his men had been taken, sure he would see his beautiful boy brought before him soon.
King or not, his tears fell at the thought of his son dying. No father ever wished to witness such things.

“Pray all you like, Mikhail, it is over. It is meant to be, or your pathetic faith in God would have done something by now.”

Agents in black came from the keep, carrying a body that struggled and screamed in pain. Johnas smiled as he watched them march fast toward him. He heard Mikhail moan, heard his tears, and he smiled more.
Two
masked assassin
s rushed ahead to speak, Crimson of the North was walking behind them.

“News from the field, we have all the captains?”

“No,
yourrr grrrace
. The Lord of Southwind has escaped north, the remnants of Vallakazz to the west. I need my men, and some of
yourrrs
to hunt them down.” Farrigus purred and kept his distance, he knew what the agents had seen below.

“Granted. Alexei T’Vellon first, I will deal with Vallakazz soon enough. I want our betrayer to hang,
that
signed agreement of ours nailed to his forehead. Hurry, Crimson of the North, hurry.” Johnas nodded and turned toward the nervous agents waiting to speak.

“Yes,
yourrr
majesty.” Crimson of the North needed no
prod to get him out of Castle Valhera, he knew to stay far away for now. Changing into a large panther once more, he sprinted on all fours out the south gates, heading north, half a legion of cats and soldiers following.

“
Prince Johnas, there is something you need to----“

“That is
King Johnas Valhera
,
your majesty
,
I dare say, unless you have forgotten recent events. String up Bryant there, in front of his father, quickly now, before he expires.” Johnas was alive with wicked energy, yet the screaming youth did not sound like Bryant, and there was a loud hum coming from the keep. His smile fell to a serious expression.

“This is not prince Bryant, your majesty, it is Oggidan Chilar. He is badly cut, and Vermillion of the South is---“

“Where is the heir prince?! Where is Vermillion?!” Johnas grabbed the agent and put his blade across the man’s neck.

“Your majesty, the heir prince is gone. An elf and a knight of Southwind had him, and escaped to the waters, your sword, the curvy one
,
is buried in the mouth of Vermillion and it is making a loud---“

Johnas sliced the agents’ throat, then took his head off with one vicious backstroke of his longsword. Blood showered his face, the head fell next to Mikhail, the body slumped and spurted crimson onto the courtyard. Everyone backed away from king Johnas Valhera as he stalked toward the keep, then he stopped
and turned
.

“
Thank you Alden…praise to you and to Heaven…thank you Lord…”
Mikhail sobbed, having heard his boy had escaped, he tried to thank Alden for Liogan Andellis
and Lavress Tilaniun but the words faded beyond whisper.

Jo
hnas nodded to his men
, and dropped his shield. He placed two hands on the hilt
of his blade
, and marched forward without a word. His soldiers lifted the body of Mikhail Salganat, and placed him chest down over a barrel. They stepped aside as his insides fell out onto the cobblestone, his hand had been holding them in place. They stretched his arms behind his back, then rolled him over so his face stared up at their new king.

“My son will be king…your brother deserved…to die…you..
”
His words were too hard to project, his breath would not come, yet he smiled.

King Johnas Valhera looked down at Mikhail, and saw his uncle smile a knowing grin up to him. His breaths were short, fluttering, and he was
covered in blood from battle. Johnas
raised his blade, looked at the bulge in the outstretched neck, and cut down with a clean chop of steel.

Thump

Thump

The head of Mikhail Salganat rolled toward his feet, grinning, and eyes wide open. Johnas picked up the head by what gray hair r
emained, and carried it as he stepped toward
his castle.

“Make sure he lives.” Johnas pointed to Oggidan as he passed. “And if anyone interrupts me inside, I will take their head just as you witnessed here.”