David Robbins - Memphis Run

“And who, pray tell, might they be?”

“I cannot say.”

“There are ways of forcing you to talk,” the King said. He pointed at a door in the center of the right-hand wall. “The Dark Lord can extract the information.” He paused and smirked. “Have you heard about the Dark Lord?”

“Yes,” Rikki acknowledged.

The King studied the Warrior for over a minute, and his smirk vanished. “You are different than most men. I don’t detect any fear in your eyes.”

“Fear is a delusion,” Rikki said. “To one with faith, there can be no fear.”

“Faith?” the King repeated, snickering. “Whose faith? Yours or mine? Faith in what? In a god or in the workings of nature?”

“Faith in the Spirit.”

The King pursed his red lips. “You intrigue me, little man. I find you to be a pleasant diversion from the drudgery of greatness. I want to know you better.”

“I request to be released,” Rikki said. “I am traveling through this territory in peace. Your men attacked me without provocation.”

“You were caught in my territory,” the King declared. “Accordingly, you are subject to my will. I’ll decide your fate.”

“I must warn you,” Rikki mentioned. “I will escape, and more of your men may be harmed. You can prevent further bloodshed by setting me free.” He paused. “If you don’t release me, you also risk the wrath of my friends. They’ll come after me, and if they arrive in Memphis while I am still in your custody, they’ll slay everyone who stands in their way.”

“Should I tremble now or later?” the King quipped.

General Thayer looked at the Warrior with a worried expression. “My platoon will stop your friends.”

“What will be, will be,” Rikki said enigmatically.

The King returned the katana to the Spartan. “I want my guard doubled as an added precaution.” He gazed at the small man, trying to read Rikki’s stolid countenance. “Not that I believe you, you understand, little man?”

“Your reign will be a short one,” Rikki predicted.

“Now who’s mistaken?” the King asked, ascending slowly to his throne.

He seated himself with a flourish, clasping his hands in his lap. “My reign will last for decades, and I will be remembered as a great conqueror.

Alexander the Great. Attila the Hun. And myself, Aloysius the First. Future historians will rank us as the three mightiest military men of all time.”

“Your name is Aloysius?” Rikki queried.

“Aloysius is the name I have chosen, and none is more fitting. Do you know what it means?”

“No,” Rikki admitted.

“I chose the name after my vision, and my name, like my presence, is sacred.”

“Vision?” Rikki said.

Aloysius the First settled in his throne. “Over three years ago the vision came to me. At the time I was a lowly scavenger, a nameless vagabond like so many inconsequential others. I didn’t even know the identities of my father and mother.” He stared at the chandelier. “And then, late one night, after I took the acid, while I was tripping, the vision came to me and opened my mind.”

“What is acid?” Rikki inquired.

“You’ve never used acid? LSD?”

“No,” Rikki said.

“You must be from the moon,” Aloysius commented sarcastically.

“Everyone knows what acid is. It’s a drug, a hallucinogenic. Have you ever used any drugs?”

“I’ve used herbs,” Rikki said. “Our Healers administer them to remedy illness.”

“Herbs?” The King snickered. “Acid isn’t an herb, little man. Acid is a potent psychedelic, like mescaline. I’ve used both many times. But I never saw a vision like the one I had that night.” He smiled, his voice lowering.

“I saw my destiny revealed. I saw myself as the ruler of the world. I saw myself on a throne just like this one I had built, and every person on the planet was bowing at my feet, hailing me as their undisputed ruler.” He looked at the Warrior. “What do you think of that?”

Rikki couldn’t resist the opening. “Does the word insane mean anything to you?”

General Thayer tensed, taking an audible breath.

Sergeant Boynton glanced at the martial artist in dread.

To their surprise, Aloysius the First grinned. “I would expect such a reaction from someone with your limited mentality. How could you possibly comprehend my magnificence? I always knew, deep down, that I was special, that there was a higher destiny in store for me. And now, thanks to my vision, I am claiming my heritage.”

Rikki looked at General Thayer. “And you serve this madman?”

Aloysius cackled. “Mad, am I? You pitiful moron. In three years I’ve accomplished the impossible. Look around you. Once this was an empty, abandoned mansion, but under my direction this estate has been restored to its former grandeur. I took the rabble of Memphis and transformed them into an unstoppable army—”

“I thought General Thayer trained your men,” Rikki interjected.

“And who selected the good general as commander in chief?” the King demanded. “I did! I now control everything within fifty miles of my capital. In six months I’ll control one hundred miles. In a year the Midwest will be mine.”

“Never happen,” Rikki said.

“Why not?”

“The Leather Knights and the Technics, to mention just two factions, will oppose you, and both outnumber your army. Then there’s the Russians, the Freedom Federation—”

“The Knights and the Technics outnumber me now, but not for long. As for the Russians, they have their hands full governing the territory they took during the war. They won’t interfere with me until it’s too late.”

Aloysius leaned forward. “What do you know about the Freedom Federation?”

“The Federation is stronger than the Knights, the Technics, and your Hounds combined. They’ll stop you if no one else does.”

“You think so? Let’s see how smart you are.” The King paused. “I’m not as ignorant as you seem to believe. I know there are different groups in control of certain cities or areas, and I’ve heard stories concerning the Federation. Yes, I face stiff opposition. But it will all crumble before an army over a million strong.”

“A million?”

“Yes,” Aloysius the First declared, his eyes radiating a maniacal sparkle.

“The first three years have proceeded slowly, because I’ve had to consolidate my forces and selectively pick my targets. We’ve wiped out dozens of small communities and towns, and we’ve defeated Technic and Leather Knight patrols. The word is spreading about us. More men have flocked to my banner in the past three months than in the previous years.

And why? Because I’m taking my recruits from the largest group of people in the Outlands, the scavengers.”

Rikki’s brow creased as he contemplated the implications.

“I’m no fool, swordmaster. Sure, there are a few areas already under the control of one group or another, but there is more land not under any control whatsoever. The Outlands embrace more territory than the controlled lands. And who lives in the Outlands? The outcasts, the nomads, the looters and raiders, the scavengers. There are millions of them. Millions!”

The madman spoke the truth. Rikki gazed at the King with dawning insight. A Family Elder had once calculated there were three to four million people living in the Outlands, some living in farming or mining communities, but the vast majority homeless wanderers who roamed the land preying on anyone and anything.

“I can see you’re beginning to appreciate my vision,” Aloysius said, noting the Warrior’s change in expression. “If I can gather the scavengers to my banner, there will be no stopping me. The Hounds of Hades will sweep over the land like a horde of locusts, devouring everyone stupid enough to resist me. The word is spreading, even as we speak. I’ve sent messengers out to the farthest corners of the Outlands, bidding every able-bodied scavenger to enlist in my army, promising them a share in the spoils. They’ll be flocking in from all over.” He smirked. “Do you still think I’m an idiot, swordmaster?”