God Rising

Chapter 110

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

AN: Double release day. Also, looks like I...yet again, radically underestimated the number of chapters I'd need to finish this, my last plan was for 125 chapters, then 150, now...honestly...I might go as high as 300 chapters before this is all said and done. Prart hasn't even hit the climax yet an it is the only part I'm focusing on, and it has taken...well it might easily take five more chapters, I can't say for sure. I might keep it down to three, but...on this, I'm always wrong. Remember, reviews feed authors, don't let us starve. :)

…Remedios' Encampment…

"We've lost a few thousand soldiers and gained nothing." Suchala said sharply.

"There are some dead heretics at least." She added with equal sharpness, "If we keep pushing, we will break through."

Suchala wanted to slap this woman. 'How did anyone this dense ever become the head of an order? Power does not equate to competence.' He thought angrily. "That may be true, but we still need enough of an army remaining to go on and finish the rest of the resistance. What good is it if we win only to destroy ourselves?" He asked gravely.

"Ma'am," Yuri said as she walked in, "A messenger just arrived on horseback. King Astraka is due to arrive soon, and he has brought an army with him."

"Good! With all three of us together, we can't possibly lose!" Remedios yelled enthusiastically as she slammed her hands on the table, shattering it under her.

"Yes, we can." Suchala said as if to a child. "And that belief right there is one reason why we still could. This is not just a game of numbers, Remedios. Yes, we have some of the Black Scripture, yes, we have some of the Holocaust Scripture, and yes, we have some of your paladins, but they're not without resources. General Neia Baraja is no fool, and she wouldn't fight if she didn't think she could win. They've harassed our armies at every turn, leaving us with insufficient supplies for a months long siege, and if we run out of food, we run out of options. All she has to do in order to not lose is just to hold on, but we have to win." He sighed, "I hate sieges. I really, really hate sieges."

"How are the siege towers coming?" He asked after several more minutes of grumbling.

Yuri picked up a document from the floor where it had landed after Remedios shattered the table. They'd gone through a number of tables thanks to her tantrums. It was tiresome, but now routine enough that nobody even remarked on it anymore. "They'll be ready tomorrow."

"Convenient." Remedios said, satisfied, "Then we'll deploy mages as well, and another ram, one for every gate."

Suchala then spent the next two hours trying to explain to Remedios why attacking everywhere at once had its own weaknesses, and when he'd finally drilled that into her head, nearly exhausting himself in the process, a tired looking King Astraka walked into the tent.

He did not look nearly as kingly as his reputation had suggested he might, he looked like a terrible wreck and he still had a faint smell of alcohol about him.

He didn't waste time with introductions, "Those bitches have to die, so when do we take the city?" He asked with a tired, angry voice.

"Our next attack will be tomorrow, we'll be using towers for maximum penetration." Remedios said gleefully.

"Good. My soldiers will be tired after the march, I will volunteer them for the third wave." He said, recovering some fragment of his noble voice.

"Fine." Remedios said, "But tonight I want to show them something special."

"What?" Suchala and Astraka asked in unison.

"The fate of heretics. I say we light up the night, let them know terror." She said.

Yuri grinned happily, this was her favorite part, the only good thing about Remedios, the sadism. It was still a marvel to her that this woman was once considered a hero to her country.

"Do it." Suchala said, his voice was full of grim satisfaction.

"That reminds you, I have someone for you, call it a… gift, in appreciation for your help to me." He said. They looked at him curiously. "Do you know of a man named, 'Tinamoc'?" He asked, knowing they knew that name quite well.

…That evening…Prart…

CZ, Neia, Skana, the members of Blue Rose, and Queen Calca sat around a table talking, Neia spoke animatedly with Lakyus in particular as they talked about their past adventures, both the good and the bad. It wasn't a surprise to Skana that the two could talk so easily with one another, since both had come into leadership positions, both had been confronted with contradictions to their view of the world and been forced to change, both had risked their lives for the same monarch, and both represented considerable personal power that stood out as 'unique' among their warrior peers.

Truth be told, Skana felt a little bit 'envious'. Not much, but a little, since both had come from a class greater than her own, even if Neia's had not been all that elevated, coming from a powerful Paladin mother, she'd had some advantages that Skana's peasant heritage lacked. Neia might not have had a noble background, but it was sufficient even in a backwater region to give her comfort that others lacked when dealing with those of noble birth. Also, her carriage bore authoritarian confidence. It had been the first thing Skana had hated about her, until she didn't anymore.

Queen Calca took a particular interest in Evileye, whose bare red eyes seemed not to discomfort the Queen even a little. Lakyus knew it probably did. However, she recognized it for what it was, that she was forcing herself to confront and erode her own attitudes.

The elven servants who moved about the table did so in silence, but for a rare moment of their lives, that silence was not born of fear, rather they looked at those who they attended with almost a divine, reverential awe, doing their best to ensure every glass was filled, every empty plate replaced.

CZ of course, could always be counted upon, she 'fixed' the cuteness problem of Calca's lost long hair by placing a sticker on her forehead, it matched the one that still sat on Skana's eye patch, and as per usual, she spoke only in short, brief sentences.

It was, in short, a pleasant reprieve from a dire situation, and they enjoyed the growing camaraderie very much. Neia praised the efficacy of Tia and Tina's destruction of those moving the ram, but special praise fell to Lakyus for her casual destruction of the siege weapon when the fight was over. By contrast, Neia's decisive command of the soldiers earned considerable praise from the Queen.

The evening might have gone on that way for quite some time, until Ulthis burst in to the dining hall. His blood red eyes were wide with shock and horror, "We have a problem." He said without bothering with the niceties.

Neia and Skana were already on their feet before he finished speaking. "What is it?" Neia asked.

"Fire." He said. He didn't need to explain. Neia, Skana, and CZ immediately followed him at breakneck speed, fast as they could move to his position on the wall. [Light in the Darkness] Neia said, enhancing her vision in the evening hours. Skana, mildly annoyed, removed one of her scrolls and gave herself temporary dark vision.

They could scarcely believe their eyes. A dozen stakes had been set in place on small platforms, and a single person was tied to each of them, naked and slumped forward with their head down.

"No…" Neia said, "She can't."

"She can." CZ said.

"Shit. She is." Skana said with anger and disgust thick on her tongue.

"No, she's not." Neia said, and drew her bow. She was absolutely certain that it was either Remedios, or her closest aid walking by with a torch and pronouncing doom on the 'heretics'.

"CZ." Neia said, her friend looked over to her.

"Target the hostages." Neia said calmly.

Skana paled. "You can't be serious?" She asked.

"I am. Do you remember the siege?" Neia asked.

"I do but…" Skana began, and Neia interrupted.

"You weren't under arms at the time, or you weren't at the wall." Neia said.

"Consider it done." CZ said as she unholstered her spell gun.

"CZ wait!" Skana said, the maid demon paused. "I… no I wasn't, but I saw you fight, you were magnificent. But what does that…"

Neia interrupted, "The demihumans used children as human shields, I ordered them all shot."

"The demihumans des-"

Neia cut her off. "The children."

Skana's hand flew to her mouth as she looked to the blank mask her wife had for a face.

"Everyone followed my orders, even the paladin, I said, 'aim for the kids', and I had them all killed, every one of them, or nearly. We couldn't save them, there was nothing we could do then, and if we'd hesitated, we'd have encouraged more of the use of hostages against us. Everybody behind me would have died, people I had to protect. Killing those children was the only mercy I could give them. I don't know if that bitch out there," she gestured beyond the wall, "knows what I did or not, maybe this is just one big coincidence that I'm back in this situation again. But I can't save them, nobody here can, and even if we could do it, we shouldn't because it will just make hostages a viable choice forcing our hand in the future." Neia's voice was cool and rational, and Skana stood frozen as she realized just what she was looking at.

She tried to imagine her wife shouting an order to target children, and she realized just how disturbingly easy it was to picture.

"CZ, do it." Neia said, "You start from the left, I'll go from the right."

"But that's… it's a monstrous act…" Skana said softly.

"It is a monstrous war, and I have no choice. This is the only help I can give them. I'm… I'm sorry, Skana… Perhaps you'd better not see this, please go to our room, I'll talk to you when I get back." Neia said as she nocked an arrow.

Skana shook her head. "No, I should see, if you can bear to do it, I can bear to watch." She said, biting her lip.

"Snake Shot." Neia said, and loosed an arrow at the same moment as CZ's spell gun went off. One by one, the hostages died while whoever was about to burn them, dove for cover.

It was only a few seconds, but they were dead.

Skana watched in mute horror.

"I expect everyone here to do the same for me." Neia said to the silent walls as she put away her bow. She stepped forward and leaned on the crenelations with her hands folded into fists.

Skana stood by, quiet as the grave not a foot away from Neia's side. 'What is she thinking? What does her face look like now?' Skana wondered, she stepped closer, expecting the mask she'd seen before when Neia calmly spoke about a past Skana was unaware of, and her reasons for doing the same thing again. So it was a surprise to her, that she saw, as she came closer, that Neia's hands were shaking, barely controlled. While down the cheek that Skana could see, a rivulet of a tear ran down. Skana could not see her eyes behind the visor, but she didn't need to, to know what she would find.

Neia snapped erect and covered her head with her cloak and walked off the wall. As she passed by Ulthis she touched his shoulder, "Thank you for telling me. If it happens again, please keep me informed, it doesn't matter the hour, I'll come take care of it. Don't hand the task to anyone else." She said in a controlled, even voice that was so at odds with all that Skana had just seen that it chilled her blood.

CZ descended shortly after and whispered quietly to Skana, "Walk with me."

Skana quietly fell in beside CZ. Neia was radiating an aura of violence of the sort her wife had never felt from her before, and although much seemed uncertain in her mind, there was one thing she knew.

She did not envy the ones who would attack that wall tomorrow.

…Astraka's Encampment Outside of Prart…

The doppels were doing very well. While Vanysa didn't know how many soldiers had quietly deserted since she'd begun to destroy Astraka, she guessed it was a fair number, even if his subordinates had been keeping that knowledge from him. She smiled whimsically as she crept into his tent that night, used her sleep scroll, and then after forcing his intoxication again, she pondered the nightmare to give him in the evening. But while she did that, she picked up his sword and gave it a once over. It wasn't much by Nazarick standards, but… it was his. It was obviously lovingly cared for, he must have spent countless hours personally caring for it, unlike his armor, she saw nearby there was a whetstone of adamantite, an absurdly expensive indulgence, and probably not even necessary. She wasn't great with magic, she had only a handful of skills and abilities, but she could at least detect an enchantment.

She'd seen his sword before now and would never forget it. She thought back to the day it had been shown to her, she was sitting, bound up in the carriage, he'd stopped pretending to be nice to her, though she'd occasionally seen a flash of conscience, it was evident he was good at crushing it, and he had a petty side. She still had her clothing then. He'd taken out his blade as they closed in on the capital…

"You don't have long, then I start asking you hard. I don't want to, but don't think I won't." She glared at him, or tried to, he took out his sword and began to caress it's edge with the whetstone. "This stone is worth more than your life." He said, holding it up so she could see it. "Just a hunk of rock shaped to rub against a refined rock we call a 'sword', when you get right down to it." He said casually. "But if I were to take this rock to an armorer, and take you to sell to a brothel, the rock would put more coin in my pocket."

That had made her cry and hug herself, the weeks of degradation had taken their toll, the bruise from where he'd hit her hadn't quite healed, then he'd held up the sword and put the tip at the cloth between her breasts. "No… no…" She'd shaken her head, and she remembered how she'd trembled, unable to move and unable to speak, as the tip of his very expensive sword started cutting down her shirt, it was the last thing she had, just her clothes, and he was taking that too. She whimpered for her master then, so soft that he couldn't hear her, she'd curled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms tighter, she'd hoped he would stop when she did that, and he did, for a moment when the edge of his sword had split the skin on her arm.

"You don't need your arms to answer questions." He'd said, and she'd forced her arms and legs away, and let him shred her last possession, leaving nothing but the hair he'd made into her leash, the chains on her wrists, and her tears to hide her newly imposed nudity. He'd dragged her by the base of her skull out of the carriage, then used the tip of his sword at her back to drive her forward as he'd taken her into the dungeon, he loved his sword, that much she knew.

Her mind flew through those thoughts, the way she'd stumbled in the dark only to have him yank her hair to get her to move, the way the tip had terrified her as it poked at her skin when her pace slowed. "Yes… that memory will do." She whispered softly.

When he was thrashing in the grip of the nightmare… her life… she watched for only a moment in grim satisfaction, she wiped away her tears, she hated remembering, but it was necessary. Seeing him thrash though, whimpering in his sleep. This big, dangerous, king of men, reduced to a whimpering pile of flesh in his sleep, reminded her of just how much she had endured. Hurting him, hurt her, but it hurt him worse, so it was a price she was willing to pay. She went back to his sword.

"So you love this, do you?" She asked, he didn't answer, he couldn't. He didn't need to, she knew what he would have said.

"You used this to shame me, to dehumanize me, to take away the only thing I had left in the world. I hate you, I hate you so much…" She whispered, "I hate you so much that it hurts just to think of you, just to feel it tears me up inside, do you know…" she said as she carried his sword over to him and held it over his body, "it took me weeks, weeks to remember what you did, to remember everything. The horse, the whip, the pear of anguish, the… the jailer, your fist, your breath, your fingers… you had me reduced so much that my mind shut everything down, my own brain turned against me, protected you from my wrath by hiding you even from me. It did so much that my master didn't even want to try to recover it because he feared what would happen to me if I remembered too soon. He was so kind… you know, when everyone else was gone, he held me, and he just let me cry. Would you ever have done that for a servant? Probably not. That's why I was willing to die, why no matter how much it hurt, all I would give you were my wails and my tears and my pleas for death. If you valued your servants as much as your trinkets, maybe you'd have been worth something. But now? By the time I'm done, you'll stand where I did, and be the nothing you called me." She whispered maliciously.

"I hope you don't mind, but I'm taking this." She said, holding the sword up. "But don't worry, I got you a replacement." She said casually, and she took out the sword she'd brought with her this time. "It's even enchanted, though perhaps not the way you'd like." She gave a sweet smile to the thrashing form and put the replica into the sheath.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of the one I'm removing, it'll be a nice trophy. Maybe I'll hang it up on the wall where you can see it every day for the rest of your unnaturally long life." Vanysa whispered and vanished.