David Dalglish - The Prison of Angels

In a single smooth motion, Manfeaster took the boy from the father’s arms, flipped him into the air, and then smashed him headfirst into the rocky ground.

“No!” cried Jessilynn, her scream echoing along with that of the father.

Two of the creatures beat down the man when he tried to rush Manfeaster, their claws ripping into his flesh until he crumpled to his knees. Moonslayer leaned closer, his words rumbling in Jessilynn’s ears.

“Show them,” he whispered. “Show them, or we eat the next alive.”

It was all too much. Legs shaking, she looked upon the grieving father. His body was covered with gashes, and blood mixed with his tears and snot. Only the wolf-men holding him kept him away from the body of his son. Jessilynn thought of him lying on his back, screaming while the wolves and the birds tore into his flesh, feasting. Her arms shook, and a shudder convulsed through her.

As the vile creatures howled, she pulled back her arrow. What she did…was it murder? No matter what she chose, the man would suffer, the man would die. This was compassion, wasn’t it? Was it mercy? Or was it cowardice, a way to escape the guilt of watching such a horrific sight? Her eyes flicked to the boy’s corpse. Already one of the wolf-men was licking the blood off him.

I can’t do this , thought Jessilynn. Please, Ashhur, forgive me. Take him home.

She let loose her arrow.

It smashed into the man, blasting him out of the wolf-men’s arms and flinging him back several feet. His chest caved in, and blood shot from his mouth. The image burned into Jessilynn’s mind, yet no matter how badly she wished to close her eyes to shut it all out, she could not. The corpse rolled along the ground, expending the last of its momentum. All around her the monsters cheered, thrilled with the sight and in awe of the demonstrated power.

“Did I not say she was their champion?” Moonslayer roared. “Yet she is nothing to us. She is our toy, our slave, our meal. Man’s time is at an end. All of us, we will have a land of our own, and we will take it by force!”

“Onward to the river!” Manfeaster cried, joining his brother. “It is near. Can you not taste your freedom? Come now, and taste it in the blood of the humans!”

The feast began, and still Jessilynn could not force herself to look away. Her mind felt frozen, her emotions in shock. Tears ran down her face, yet she was unaware she was crying. A warm hand touched her shoulder, and she shivered.

“Come,” Silver-Ear said, gently taking the bow. “You will sleep at my side this night, but first we have many miles to walk.”

Jessilynn had no heart to respond, no words to say. She followed the shaman into the night, and though she was surrounded, she’d never felt so alone in all her life. Tearful eyes looking up at the stars, she wanted to scream at Ashhur, demand he answer for such abandonment.

It was then she saw Sonowin’s wings, the winged horse like a distant bird flying through the night. Dieredon sat atop her, just a dark speck. Still watching, still waiting for a chance to rescue her. Jessilynn wept, unable to cope with such a mixture of relief and torment, knowing she’d not been abandoned.

Knowing there was nothing he could do to save her.

“We should prepare our army,” said one of Harruq’s advisors as he sat on Antonil’s throne, hunched over and thoroughly miserable.

“What army?” he asked. “You mean the one that left with the king?”

“There are more soldiers in Mordan than just them,” said Sir Wess, captain of the guard in Mordeina and the man left in charge of keeping the peace during their king’s absence. The surly man spoke slowly, as if he thought Harruq a child. “Most lords kept retainers, especially the northern lords. Retaking a distant land is one thing, but this is Ker. This is our doorstep, and we cannot risk them retaliating while we’re unprepared.”

Harruq looked to the queen, who sat quietly beside him. Her hands were folded in her lap, and she shook her head when he caught her gaze.

“No,” Harruq said. “We’re not going to make this worse. I’ve already sent a messenger to apologize. If Bram’s got any shred of sense in him, he’ll accept it, and we’ll all pretend like this never happened.”

“But you don’t know what has happened,” said another of the advisors. “None of us do. Would it not be wiser to prepare?”

Before Harruq could answer, the doors slammed open, and in walked Ahaesarus in all his regal splendor. He pointed at Harruq.

“Come with me,” he said.

Harruq lifted an eyebrow.

“Uh…care to say please?”

Ahaesarus stared at him, then let out a sigh.

“Please,” he said. “I’ve called another gathering of the angels, and I would like you to bear witness.”

Harruq shot a look to Susan, unsure of what to do.

“We need to know what happened,” she said. “Go with him. I’m sure you’ll be safe.”

Probably , Harruq thought as he stood. But he was taking his swords with him just in case. He wanted to ask outright about the incident in the south, but Ahaesarus didn’t appear to be in the talkative mood.

“If you need anything, Susan will handle it,” Harruq told his advisors, pushing through them. “As for me, I’ll be with tall and handsome.”

Ahaesarus led the way, out into the open courtyard, and then turned.

“Your hands,” he said. “We fly to Avlimar.”

“I want to know one thing before I go,” Harruq said, now that they were relatively alone. “Is my brother all right?”

Ahaesarus hesitated, then nodded.

“He battled Judarius for some length, but is otherwise unharmed, as is his wife. Now will you come with me?”

“Of course,” Harruq said, offering his hands. “Just don’t drop me, please. It’d be a poor ending to an already awful day.”

Ahaesarus grabbed him by the wrist, beat his wings, and into the air they soared. The land was a steadily shrinking blur beneath them as they approached the floating city. Harruq closed his eyes, knowing it helped with the vertigo. While he didn’t normally consider himself afraid of heights, he decided he could always make an exception when he was so high up that the castle looked like one of Aubrienna’s toys.

He opened his eyes when they set down on one of the many outer ledges of Avlimar. It was immediately apparent something was afoot, given the thousands of angels circling about the city. Harruq wondered what it meant. Qurrah was alive, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was free. For a terrified moment he thought he was being brought to witness his own brother’s execution. His hand drifted to his swords, and he tried not to show his sudden nervousness.

“So when do I hear exactly what happened in Ker?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could, which wasn’t very nonchalant at all.

“I stopped the attempt to punish your brother before Judarius could finish the execution,” Ahaesarus said. “King Bram’s soldiers fought to protect him, and both men and angels died in the conflict.”

“And so what is it we go to now?” Harruq asked as they walked down the pristine, golden streets.

“The forum.”

The half-orc couldn’t remember when he’d seen Ahaesarus so cranky. No, not that, he decided as the angel led him along. He wasn’t cranky, and he wasn’t being short-tempered…he was nervous. That realization made Harruq’s own nerves fray. What could someone as powerful and influential as Ahaesarus be nervous about? Was there something he wasn’t telling him? Just what did he plan on doing in this council? Sadly, he knew he’d get none of those answers, so he kept his mouth shut and his eyes and ears open.

The forum turned out to be an enormous oval building, open at the top and built with a multitude of rows steadily rising higher and higher, each seat facing a central point. There were no doors, for the angels all flew in from the sky to take their place. Ahaesarus helped Harruq over the wall, but instead of finding him a seat he kept the half-orc beside him on the smooth marble flooring of the forum. Looking about, seeing the thousands of angels watching, Harruq got an inkling as to why Ahaesarus was nervous. More surprising, though, was that Harruq was not the only non-angel to be there. On the other side of the dais stood Lord Maryll, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked unbothered by the numbers, and seeing Harruq, he only offered a polite nod.