James Somers - The Realm Shift

“I have been serving under the auspices of King Stephen of Wayland for about five years now as he gathers his army in hopes of removing Mordred from power here in Nod. We are currently on our way to rendezvous with about twenty other ships, which comprise a portion of Stephen’s fleet. Some of these are mercenary ships.”

“King Stephen is using mercenaries?” Gideon asked.

“In this war they’ll either fight for Mordred, or us. We’d rather have them fighting for us. They may not necessarily be loyal to the cause, but they are loyal to gold. So, we take what we can get,” Bonifast said, biting off a piece of cheese.

There was logic in what the captain was saying, but Ethan had never heard any good things about mercenaries. They fought for the highest bidder without love for God, king, or country. They were not to be trusted.

“What happens when you rendezvous with this fleet?” Ethan asked.

“We will sail for Emmanuel and attack the city, coordinating with a ground force already on the move. We should commence the attack within two days time. As you may, or may not know, Mordred keeps a substantial compliment of ships from the old royal navy moored in the harbor at Emmanuel. It will be our job to destroy as many as possible.”

“Do you actually believe you can take the royal city?” Gideon asked. “Mordred almost certainly knows Stephen’s ground army is on the way, and he’ll be waiting for it.”

“We are aware of that fact, Gideon,” Bonifast said. “However, while it would be tremendous to actually capture the city, we are hoping to at least weaken the army Mordred is already putting together. Our sources indicate he is commissioning a great many people from outside of the Kingdom of Nod to fight for him.”

“The heathen tribes of the Outlands?” Gideon asked.

“None other. And they are more than willing to fight. Mordred deals in slaves to help pay for their services to him. Also, there are many men who are being brought under the influence of demons in order to add to Mordred’s army.”

“How much do you know about the demons?” Ethan asked.

“Most consider them to be myth, but I’m very familiar with who Mordred’s ways and his unseen allies,” Bonifast said. “This army is growing strong and threatens to outnumber the army King Stephen has raised to fight.”

“They’ll be outmatched as well,” Ethan said.

“What do you mean?” Bonifast asked.

“Those weren’t slaves aboard that ship,” Ethan said. He felt apprehension going into this part of the truth, but apparently, Gideon trusted the captain. “I found giant men inside the hold of that ship yesterday,”

“The Anakims?” Gideon asked.

“I suppose so,” Ethan said. “It was dark, so I can’t be sure how many there were.”

Bonifast looked at his plate for a moment, a piece of bread partially torn between his hands. When he looked back up, he had the most serious look Ethan had seen on his face, so far.

“That brings me to another question, lad, and I want a straight answer,” Bonifast said. “How did you get on that ship and send her to the bottom?”

Ethan looked at Gideon again. He nodded approvingly, so Ethan continued. “Somehow, I have the ability to pass from the physical world into the spiritual realm. I’m only just beginning to understand how it works, but yesterday I entered the spiritual realm and fought with demons that were aboard the slaver. There were hundreds of them inside of these Anakims held in the cargo hold. When I struck at one of the giants in the dark, some of the demons came out of it and attacked me.”

Ethan’s story astonished both Captain Bonifast and Gideon.

“The demons seemed to be trying to protect the Anakims from me,” he said. It felt awkward to suggest anyone would be afraid of a fourteen-year-old farm boy, but the facts still stood. “The demons hemmed me in and blocked my way of escape. When I realized these giants intended to fight for Mordred, I knew I had to destroy them somehow. So, I cut through the hull and let the water do the rest while I came back to the Maelstrom.”

“That’s when I saw you reappear on the deck?” Gideon said.

“Yes, but as soon as I came back to the physical world, I felt too weak to even stand,” Ethan explained.

Bonifast scratched the black whiskers on his chin. “Perhaps this going from one plane of existence to another requires more effort than you think,” he suggested. Ethan had been expecting the captain to laugh him to scorn and declare him a lunatic. But he appeared to take the truth in stride.

“You mean you actually believe me?” Ethan asked.

“I knew it wasn’t my gunnery crews that did it,” he said matter-of-factly. Bonifast leaned back in his chair with one arm draped over the back. “Besides, Ethan, I know there are many things which the Almighty does in this world that I can neither explain nor deny. Let’s just say I’ve learned enough in my time to know when the hand of Shaddai is moving.”

Ethan smiled. Captain Levi Bonifast, ex-pirate, was clearly a man of great faith. Someone knocked on the door. “Come in, Cook,” Bonifast said.

The ship’s cook entered the room with a wooden serving cart. On top of the cart sat a covered platter made of pure silver. The cook rolled it over to the head of the table, where the captain sat, and lifted the domed cover. Underneath, sat a roasted suckling pig. The flesh had been glazed with a rich sauce and smelled absolutely mouth watering.

When Bonifast, Gideon, and Ethan had been served, Cook left the room. The captain stuffed a hearty bite of roast pork into his mouth. He had to shut his eyes, savoring the sweet smoky flavor. “That Cook,” he mused, “I wouldn’t trade him for ten chests full of treasure.”

Ethan and Gideon laughed before tasting the delicate, sweet meat. Bonifast looked thoughtfully at Ethan as he chewed. “Ethan, I don’t want you to share anything about your gifts with the other members of my crew. They’re a superstitious lot, and I don’t want to distract them from their duties. We’ll be going into battle in two days and I need them to have their wits about them.”

“I understand, sir,” Ethan said.

Bonifast smiled and grabbed his glass of fruit drink, holding it aloft. “Well then, let’s toast to young Ethan’s conquest. May we enjoy many others like it!”

Ethan and Gideon lifted their glasses to join the toast. It felt good to enjoy a moment of levity, allowing the pressures of the situation to melt away. They all knew the war would return for them, in the morning.

The demon, Jericho, sat hunched on his feet upon the very edge of the highest tower of the king’s palace in the city of Emmanuel. He perched like a gargoyle as still and cold as the white stone beneath his feet. His unblinking eyes, with their ring of yellow iris surrounding a deep pool of black, watched the training maneuvers on the green fields hundreds of feet below.

Thousands of men toiled with swords, staffs, axes, and spears in preparation for the coming army of King Stephen of Wayland. Archers, by the hundreds, ringed the inside of the white granite walls on either side of the palace. They shot at rectangular, straw targets with pictures of men painted upon them-training to kill.

Jericho watched as demons under his command moved unseen among the ranks of soldiers. They were there to foment hatred in the hearts of Mordred’s men, to make them fiercer than they could have been alone. Everything proceeded according to plan-his plan.

The demon turned his gaze downward where Mordred also watched the soldiers from a balcony overlooking the courtyards. When Jericho watched the conqueror, he did not look upon him with love. As far as he was concerned, man deserved no more than his contempt. Even the Wraith Riders, created by demons, were viewed by these fallen angels as mere tools-useful, but still of the low race of men.