David Dalglish - The Prison of Angels

“Harruq,” Ahaesarus said, the two of them alone in the center. He kept his voice a whisper, for it seemed even the slightest noise carried far. “When my angels flew about the nation to perform their new orders, you told me to do something. You told me it wasn’t right, and that I should know it. For that, I want to thank you. No matter what any priest, any scribe, and any king might say, I know in my heart that what you said was just. What I do now, I do because of you.”

With that he turned, spreading his arms and wings wide so he might address the gathered thousands. Harruq stepped aside to give him room, feeling awkward standing there with nothing to do. He almost joined Kevin just so he wouldn’t have to be alone, but quickly rejected that terrible idea. Better awkward and alone than near that pompous jackass.

“Before I begin, let us pray for wisdom, guidance, and mercy from our beloved Lord,” Ahaesarus said, and a heavy silence fell over the forum, so quiet that Harruq could hear every cough, every shift and rustle of feathers. A moment later, in eerie unison, the angels looked up, and Ahaesarus spoke his prepared words. Harruq listened, daring to hope something might be salvaged from the disaster down south.

“Angels of Ashhur,” Ahaesarus began. “Mere days ago we met to discuss our future in the land of Dezrel. We heard the thoughts of men, their ideas of justice. Mercy and forgiveness could still be for the soul, but the body must still be punished. And so we made our decision, and with heavy hearts carried that decision out.”

The angel shook his head, and he took a deep breath.

“I am here to tell you all that I am revoking that decision. We will not carry out justice in such a manner, not anymore.”

The following outburst was immediate and deafening. Harruq winced at the noise. Ahaesarus slammed his hands together, demanding attention, and it was granted.

“We will not be their executioners!” he cried to them. “We will not be their murderers! From here on out, we will judge as we have, determining their innocence or guilt. But then we shall turn them over to the humans, to let them see fit the punishment for their crime. We will not spare the guilty, but neither shall we execute them. We will wash our hands of all of it, and let mankind decide the fate of those who would harm one another, steal from one another, and let darkness overcome their hearts instead of grace and love.”

“We had a vote,” a voice cried out above the rest. Harruq spotted the source, and was not surprised to see it was Azariah. The priest stood, gesturing to the rest of those gathered in the forum.

“Do our thoughts no longer matter?” he asked. “Will you stand against the majority?”

“I will do more than stand against it,” Ahaesarus replied. “I will deny it to its very core. This is not what Ashhur brought us here for. This is not how we win over their hearts. Let no one fear the sight of an angel. If you think otherwise, so be it, but my word stands.”

“ Your word?” Judarius asked, emerging from the crowd to stand before Ahaesarus. Harruq noticed he carried his mace, one of the few there who wielded a weapon. “And what of our words? What of our vote? Do you deny our say in such a matter? What if we are unwilling to let such things be?”

Ahaesarus stood to his full height. A hard edge entered his voice, and his message was chilling.

“Let any who would slay a human come forth now, and challenge my role as leader of our kind. Come forth, any of you. Show me how great your desire for blood truly is.”

A taut silence stretched over the thousands, and Harruq saw them glancing at one another. Judarius in particular looked ready to speak, staring eye to eye with the larger Ahaesarus. And then he turned away, spread his wings, and flew out of the forum.

“As I thought,” Ahaesarus said. “All of you, we are to represent the glory of Ashhur and perform his will. This is the best way I know how. Now go. There will be no debate, and I have nothing else to say.”

More rumbling, more discontent. The angels flew away in a great rustle of feathers and noise. Harruq looked across the marble and saw Kevin watching them fly away with a contemplative look on his face. Would this placate the man? Or would such capitulation only provoke him further? An angel came over, took him by the arms, and then they were gone.

Harruq waited, feeling more and more self-conscious as the forum grew steadily quieter. A few flew over to Ahaesarus to assure him of their support, but they were not many. At last they were alone, just Harruq and Ahaesarus. The angel approached, and he looked like he carried a heavy burden on his shoulders.

“Do you see why I wanted you here?” he asked.

“Not quite,” Harruq said, shaking his head.

“I wanted you to see this. I wanted you to know the changes we make, changes you must help enforce. We need more judges. We need clearer laws. I want you to tell us what to do with the guilty, and what to do with the repentant. In this, I hope we might better meet the desires of the people compared to the senseless violence we so recently spread throughout the night.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Harruq said, immediately thinking it was something Susan would be far better suited for. More than ever he was glad she’d stayed behind after Antonil’s departure. “Though I wouldn’t expect any miracles.”

“I never do,” Ahaesarus said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t pray they happen. Do you think our actions will provoke a war?”

Harruq crossed his arms and frowned.

“I don’t know,” he said. “If one happens, I’m determined to make sure it doesn’t start on our end. I’ve given up predicting King Henley. If he wants a war, then we’ll have a war, but until he marches into our lands I’m going to do my best to prevent any further provocation.”

Ahaesarus reached for Harruq for the return flight. Before he could, Harruq looked away, feeling embarrassed.

“You saved my brother’s life,” he said. “Thank you.”

“And I think you might save the souls of my angels,” Ahaesarus said. “In that, Harruq, I think I owe you far more than you owe me.”

Harruq laughed.

“Well, in that case, remind me to call you on that sometime. Maybe you can listen to a few hundred petitioners. That might even things up a bit.”

Ahaesarus grinned as they soared into the air.

“Did you not just say to never expect any miracles?”

Loreina Henley sat on her throne, her husband’s seat empty beside her. In her lap was a letter, and though she’d read it three times already, she read it a fourth. It didn’t seem it could be true, yet the haggard man before her, plus the wax seal of King Antonil, both insisted it was.

“How far behind you are they?” she asked the messenger.

“We’re marching at the fastest pace we can manage with such little food,” the man said. His clothes were stained with sweat, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “I’d say two weeks at most, your grace.”

Loreina nodded.

“My servants will find you a room and prepare you a bath,” she told him. “I’m sure you’re hungry, and if you’d like to eat before resting, tell them.”

“Thank you, your grace,” he said, bowing low. Servants came, having heard her orders, and ushered the messenger out of the hall. Loreina sat there, tapping the letter against her leg. She read it a fifth time, still unable to contain her excitement.

To friend and king,

The orcs number far beyond what I ever dreamed in my darkest of nightmares. The east crawls with their kind, though that is not the real danger. Someone leads them, someone wise, someone they fear. My men whisper it a demon who survived the Gods’ War. I do not know, but only tell you so you might understand the danger you face on your eastern border. My army is crushed, my supplies ruined. We were ambushed on the way to Angelport, left with retreat as our only option. We come to you now, humbly and afraid, asking for aid and shelter when we reach your lands. My men are already starving, yet we face days of marching until we reach safety.