CHAPTER TWENTY
Deliverance
HUMAN SACRIFICE...The majority of human sacrifices in the history of Terra have occurred in the context of war. In this case, they are either public acts of humiliation and vengeance, or attempts to propitiate the anger of the gods which was assumed to have led to a particular war. However, sacrifices have also been part of magical rituals to bring rain, to consecrate a pagan temple, or to safeguard a monarch whose life was in danger. In all these cases, the motive is the same – appeasement.
Darker stories, of a sensational and legendary nature, swirl around the final category of human sacrifices – those offered to demons or devils. Theologians argue that the devil, who is unable to create life on his own, can only transfer vital forces or attributes from one man to another: thus, the sacrifice is a means of granting preternatural powers to the man offering it. Modern skeptics have largely poured cold water on this idea, but the vast number of authenticated cases in ancient history suggests that belief in this ritual was common both in Arlia and Ghetz…
ENCYCLOPEDIA GALVENICA, 24th Edition, C.Y. 347
"I think this is unwise," the Queen Mother said, shaking her head. "For all her good qualities, Carranya is not infallible, and we are not bound by her instructions."
"With all due respect, Queen Katarina, we are," Sir Cornelius replied firmly. "Carranya is our Queen, and the Cabinet and the Army have sworn allegiance to her."
"Still, we cannot attack the Zion without cause," she replied slowly. "We have no evidence that they are the ones responsible."
"Name one other nation on Terra which has the magical abilities – and the proximity to Galvenia – that they have, and I shall investigate it," Prime Minister Sheffield retorted. "In instructions left with her companion, Lady Rochelle, and which were to be delivered to us in the event of her disappearance, she has not only anticipated this event, but warned us that she would be taken to Caledonia. Moreover, our covert operatives have just informed us that there are two prisoners being held in the old Castle of Hohenzollern at Caledonia. Their descriptions match those of the Queen and the Prince Consort."
Rochelle, sitting beside the Queen, nodded. "Ordinarily, I would not contradict you in public, Katarina, but this is a serious affair. Your child's life is in danger."
"We cannot attack Caledonia lightly," General Freeman said, looking worried. "Our troops are already reduced by the deployment of the Rough Riders to Unity Isle. If we stretch ourselves too thin, they will recapture the towns we have left in our train, and encircle us."
"Prime Minister!" a royal page called out excitedly. "Telegram for you."
Sheffield received the envelope from him, tore it open, and smiled as he read it through.
"A blessed autumn, Freeman," he said. "The wire is from Lieutenant-Colonel Eramond of the CSF – Commander of the Rough Riders. Unity Isle has been delivered from the War Hawks, and is now secure. He has obtained a release from his commanding officer, Stein, and awaits further instructions."
"Good grief!" Freeman exclaimed. "Get him back here at once, and send him along with a full fleet then! We need our Queen back, not to mention the Prince Consort."
"As you wish, General," Fairfax said with a smile. As the three men left the room, the Queen Mother hung her head.
"I am sorry, Rochelle," she said. "No good can come of this."
"Don't worry, Your Majesty," she said soothingly. "As Aramondrius once said, we know what we want, but God knows what we need."
xxx
It was over two months since Carranya and the Prince Consort had been taken to Caledonia, and they were being detained in a dungeon – if one could call it that, for it was quite well furnished and spacious. Their needs were seen to by a series of polite, but grim-faced, domestics, and from time to time, a physician would come and visit them both – an event necessitated by the fact that both of them, despite being on dry land, had continued to experience complaints of a gastric nature.
"It must be our good Zion food you're not used to," the physician would say, as he prescribed a deep blue potion to them. "This will fix you up." He would examine them both regularly, in the strictest privacy, and depart with a chuckle.
The medicine certainly did have its effects, as the two of them both put on the weight they had lost during their sea journey. It was a strange honeymoon for the Duke and his young bride, but his enquiries regarding their future were met with curt replies.
"It is not yet time," the domestics would reply. "He will call you when he is ready."
To Carranya, they would not even say so much – rather, they looked at her commiseratingly.
One day, a man in the outfit of a Zion noble, wearing a diadem on his forehead, visited them as they were breakfasting. With him was the physician, and he smiled at them politely.
"I think you have served our purpose well enough, Duke Marksmith," the man said. "I am Hunermann, Chairman of the Council of Viceroys. As for Doctor Heigel, you already know him."
"What do you mean?" the Duke said nervously.
"Do not worry, my lord," Carranya said, standing beside him. "Good morning, Lord Hunermann. Are we to obtain an audience with the Emperor, or is he still occupied?"
"Such impatience," Hunermann said, unnerved by her calm. "Your Lordship, I request you to kindly leave the room. I must speak to Her Majesty in person."
"Why should I?" Marksmith said, half embarrassed, half defiant.
"Indeed," Queen Carranya replied. "Whatever you say may be said to both of us."
Hunermann glared at both of them, and the Duke quailed under his look. "Do not presume upon my patience," he said. "You may speak to your wife later. Leave."
At this last word, two Zion officers – one of them Shimura – appeared behind him. Marksmith swallowed nervously, then left.
"Don't be afraid," Carranya reassured him.
"Now, Your Majesty," Hunermann said, as they sat down at the dining-table, "you are a very fortunate person indeed. Our ruler, the Emperor Charlemagne, has requested an audience with you. The audience will be two weeks from now, on the evening of the New Moon. I suggest you prepare yourself."
"Prepare myself?" Carranya shook her head. "In what way? Are you asking me to surrender to him?"
"Not quite," Hunermann replied. "During our last visit, my good friend Heigel took samples of blood from both of you. You may be amused to know the results of his tests."
"Interested, perhaps," Carranya said gently, "but why should I be amused?"
"This test, Your Majesty, was developed in our laboratories quite recently – thought the Varald mock our science, they underestimate it. Your husband's sample was what we call a control – a test that we know will be negative, used to ensure that our chemicals are in good condition. Yours was positive."
"Positive for the plague?" Carranya drew in her breath sharply, but the gaze she turned on the Chairman was steady. "I am not afraid of that. Our scientists have found a cure for it."
"Oh, no, not the plague," Hunermann said affably. "Allow me to congratulate you on producing an heir to the Lionheart dynasty."
Carranya stared at him, stunned. Only years of training and discipline kept her mouth from falling open. "I'm…."
"In the family way, as you Galvenians put it. Not that we didn't help the process. Our sea-sickness remedies have other interesting properties – and they certainly have done no harm to you, or to the Prince Consort. Quite the opposite, in fact."
"But why?" Carranya said softly. "Why did you…"
"Ah, it is an old story, Your Majesty," Hunermann explained, with a large smile on his face. "Let us just say that certain ceremonies require three guests: a man, a woman, and a child."
"Do you intend to detain me until I bring forth an heir?" Carranya said, outraged.
"Oh, no, Your Majesty, that would interfere with our schedule," he said, shaking his head. "Two weeks from now, remember? In fifteen days, the three of you will be delivered to our Emperor – yourself, your fool of a husband, and the remains of the last of the House of Lionheart."
Carranya's eyes widened in horror. "Remains?"
"Have you not noticed, Your Majesty, that the medicines we have been giving you in the last week have tasted a little different? As my good Heigel will tell you, the hands that can create can also destroy. At some time in the next two weeks – but certainly by then – you will miscarry, like the schemes and hopes of your foolish Kingdom of Galvenia. It will be painful, but do not worry, Heigel will look after you."
"No!" Carranya cried. "No, it cannot…."
"Once this necessary formality is completed, we will introduce you to the Emperor. He is fond of children, especially those who conveniently die and leave their Kingdom without an heir. We would have killed you, too," – he looked at the weeping girl in front of him with disdain – "but it will be far more entertaining to watch you die of despair and grief, far away from your home. Perhaps you would even do us the favour of going insane. That way, our hands remain clean."
"You demon!" Carranya said defiantly, trying to face him through her tears. "Is nothing sacred for you? Do you have a soul at all?"
"I merely obey the Emperor – or so I would like to believe," Hunermann said. "And now, I have told you all, Your Majesty. We will take the Duke to a separate apartment, and set him free by and by. I doubt he would be too enchanted to share his quarters with you once he hears the news in the first place – Galvenian dukes are so fastidious about damaged goods." He paused meaningfully over the last two words. "Good day, Your Majesty. It was a pleasure speaking to you."
Carranya did not reply. She remained slumped over the table, oblivious to what was happening around her, for a long while – she did not know how long. She could hear snatches of sound outside – the protestations of the Duke, the smooth voice of Hunermann – but they seemed strangely far away, as if taking place in another world. Her head spun, and her heart ached.
Damaged goods.
xxx
"Back to Galvenia?" Henrik said, puzzled. "What's going on, Compadre?"
"Henrik, do me the favour of using my title when we're in the field, all right?" Ryan said firmly. "We have to lead an attack on Caledonia. The Queen has been taken there – it's been confirmed by our Intelligence men."
"On Caledonia?" Henrik whistled. "That's right in the heart of their territory, Sir. Even though we're encircling them, they'll fight like tigers."
"When I want your strategic advice, Lance-Corporal, I'll ask for it," Ryan said, but this time, it was clear that he was jesting. "Come on, let's move out."
After bidding farewell to their CSF comrades, the Galvenians embarked upon the HMS George I, bound for Caledonia.
"We'll be joined by men from Lorean, as well as a fleet of ships from the Royal Navy," Ryan explained in an emergency briefing below decks. "The ships will attack the harbour on the eastern side of Caledonia, and we'll quickly disembark, occupy the docks, and then have an uninterrupted route to the Castle of Hohenzollern. They're holding the Queen there."
"I only hope we're on time," Sergeant Wilson said.
"Let's think about that when we get there," Ryan said grimly. His hand went to the hilt of his sword, and to his surprise, he saw a small symbol etched on it – two lines crossed, with a circle above them.
The Chiasmus of Geraud? How did that get there? he wondered. The mark looks old.
He showed it to Henrik, but the latter had no idea what it could represent, though he did point out that the Journeymen revered Geraud and may simply have been paying him homage.
Six days into their journey, Ryan received a message over the radio.
"Commander Eramond?" a pleasant voice said. "This is Commodore Reckland, Galvenian Royal Marines. We've sighted you, and we'll be joining you soon."
"Reckland? Lieutenant Reckland?" Ryan said, surprised. "You're back in the Marines?"
"I'm afraid so," Reckland replied. "And if you're listening, I have a message from a friend. She wishes you good fortune, and she misses you."
"A friend?" Ryan looked bemused. "Who might that be?"
"Oh, I'll tell you in person," Reckland joked.
Must be Mum, Ryan thought. But why would he kid me about it? Anyway, right now, there's only one person that matters. Carranya.
Saint Geraud, help me. Please.
He cannot, the woman's voice replied. He has done his part by bringing you this far, but you must obey me.
"Who are you?" Ryan muttered under his breath.
I am the one who has guided your sword to victory. Listen to me, and your mission will not be in vain.
Ryan shook his head. "How do I know you're not the 'demon of Koroth', that Jason spoke about before he died?"
Would a demon help the just, Ryan Aramondrius? Would a demon revere saintly men like Kaleb? Judge for yourself if your accusation is reasonable.
"That makes sense," Ryan said to himself, but he wondered…..
xxx
After an uneventful journey, the Galvenian ships – joined, as planned, by a Royal Naval fleet – drew close to Caledonia. It was seven days since Hunermann had spoken to the Queen, and she remained in her quarters, close to despair, hoping that somehow, his plans would fail. Though the Duke had wished to see her again, Hunermann had placed him under house arrest in another part of the castle,
But even if they do, she thought, what future is there for me? No, I must not think in that way. The message I left with Rochelle must have been read by now. Perhaps they will send someone in time.
Someone….Ryan. Ryan….
Damaged goods.
My child….my own child. I can't – I won't let you die.
She had refused every medicine that the smug-faced Heigel had offered her, and ate only enough to keep body and soul together. The nausea returned from time to time, but she welcomed it – it was a sign that her child and heir was still alive.
That evening, Hunermann paid her another visit.
"One week more, Your Majesty," he said. "It is a pity that we cannot wait longer. Perhaps, by then, you would feel the future King of Galvenia leaping in your womb – and then, taking him from you would be even more satisfying. Unfortunately, our schedule is fixed. One week. Do not think you can alter fate by refusing our potions. The damage is already done."
"You are wrong," Carranya wept. "Please be – so good as to leave me alone, Count Hunermann."
"Ah, back to formality, I see," he replied. "When you feel the pangs come upon you – and come they will – ring that little bell of yours." He pointed to a bell-pull immediately above her bed. "Heigel is at your beck and call. I could continue, but there is no joy in continuing to strike a broken opponent. Good day, Your Majesty."
"You will answer for what you have done!" Carranya said desperately. "Do not think that the Infinity will leave you unscathed."
"The Infinity?" Hunermann laughed. "The last I heard of him, he was not particularly fond of young women who are faithless to their vows. If I sail in that boat, Your Majesty, I will have you for company – and that thought cheers me more than I thought possible."
He turned and left. Carranya, close to despair, lay down on her bed and sobbed.
Prince Derren, Lady Penelope, Lord Geraud – help me. Please. If I have done wrong, I am sorry. I only know that I love my child, I love my country, and I love Ryan Eramond. Save them, even if I must perish in the process.
And then it happened. She felt a kick – and a determined one at that – beneath her ribs.
I must stay calm, she thought, placing her hand over her side. Mother always said that too much strain was bad for the heart…..Oh, Mother. If you knew, would you still love me? Or would I be damaged in your eyes?
There was a second blow, and she flinched.
I hope I'm not falling ill – No. Sweet Infinity, no!
Hunermann's words had just come to her mind.
The future King of Galvenia – leaping in my womb.
But that's impossible. The Duke and I were married only three months ago. Even if I'm a naïve young woman, I do know that much of the facts of life.
Suddenly, the horror of it dawned on her, for even in the depths of despair, she could still think logically.
Not the Duke's child.
Ryan's child.
Ryan…..Oh, Lady Penelope, no. Not Ryan's. Please. That would be too much to bear. To lose the only reminder I may have of Ryan…
Suddenly, she rose from the bed, a determined look on her face.
There must be some way to fight back, she thought. It was a fleeting ray of light, and it passed, leaving her despairing again.
But what about those potions? Have they done their mischief already?
Still, I cannot give up. I cannot surrender. What use are my words, if I cannot live up to them in adversity? Infinity, give me strength. I wish he were here with me.
xxx
"And that's the whole story," Doctor Sherman said, raising his glass of champagne and striking it lightly against Viola's. "It was serendipity, of course, but I don't know if it wasn't meant. The Old Man in the Sky has his methods. And we couldn't have done it without you."
Viola laughed. "Thank you, Doctor," she said, sipping her own glass. "It's strange that a small drop of blood could do so much good."
"Not only did we find a cure for the plague – from you, and from the others like you – but we were able to put away that scoundrel Thomssen. He's not going to harm anyone else in a hurry," Sir Cornelius said. "Mrs. Benise, you can rightly be proud of your daughter."
Olivia Benise, who was small and fair-haired like her daughter, smiled and blushed. "Well, every mother believes her daughter is special, Sir Cornelius," she replied, "but I suppose Viola surpasses that."
"Do you mean Thomssen created the sickness?" Viola said, shaking her head.
"He was working with Zion mages – using blood obtained from those with the gift, and combining it with harmless microbes, then testing them on animals until he found something virulent. Not a nice man," Sherman said disgustedly. "We're yet to test samples from the Varald, but we recently had a man from the Republic come in for testing, and it looks like more of the same, but with a slightly different microbe."
"We have informed the Varald and Fulton governments about this," Fairfax added, "and have pledged to supply them with the cure if they cannot manufacture it themselves. Fortunately, it is a simple process."
"Even more fortunately, the active principle – we're not sure what it is, though we're working on it – works at very high dilutions, meaning that we don't have to drain blood from you and your fellow mages for the rest of your life," Sherman went on. "Geller can explain it much better, but he's got a cold, poor man. He was afraid of our catching it."
"That's one less thing to worry about," Olivia said with a laugh. "It's such a lovely autumn this year, isn't it, Doctor? Almost enough to make you forget the war, the brain fever, and everything else."
"My only regret is that we couldn't find this out soon enough to save all of them," Sherman said somberly, thinking of Michelle. "But I must not be an ingrate. Now, if our Queen can be safely rescued, I would be perfectly content, war or not."
"I agree, Doctor," Viola said warmly. "Of course I wasn't at the coronation, but we did hear her speak on the radio, and her words inspired us all. I hope the brave men who have set out to save her complete their mission, and come back to us safely." She blushed.
Sherman raised his eyebrows, and his eyes met those of Olivia, who nodded and smiled. "Ah, I see what you mean," he said. "In the meantime, Colonel Rawley continues to lead our troops bravely, and our morale has not failed, despite their foul deed. We must hope for the best."
"But why would that man, Thomssen, work with the Zion? Who was he?" Viola asked, trying to change the topic.
"We're putting him through the grinder now, and he's told us a lot about his friends in Zion, except for two whom he refuses to name. Though we've been far from gentle with him, he seems more afraid of them than of us. All we know is that there are two: a man and a woman," Fairfax said grimly. "But trust us, we'll get to the bottom of it someday."
There was a knock at the door of the laboratory, and a thin man wrapped in a muffler and overcoat came in.
"I beg your pardon," he said. "Is Sir Cornelius Fairfax here?"
"That would be me, my good man," Fairfax said kindly. "And who might you be?"
"Alex Robertson," he replied, "and I have information that may be of use to you."
xxx
The attack on the harbour on the eastern coast of Caledonia had begun in earnest, and every available ship that the Zion had available was pressed into combat. If they had not had surprise on their side, the Galvenians may well have been overpowered, but as it were, they triumphed – even though, for one fateful hour when the HMS Amelia Flynn was sunk – it was touch and go.
Now, the woman said. Destroy them. They are the ones who took Carranya away.
With reckless abandon, Ryan and his men laid the docks waste, shocking Commodore Reckland. Neither civilian nor sailor was spared – even the women and children hiding behind the crates fell to the waves from his sword – and in less than an hour, the Rough Riders controlled the dockyard.
"Cover us," Ryan said, as Reckland and a horrified Henrik stared at each other. "We're heading straight for the castle."
"Ryan, what are you doing?" Henrik exclaimed, but he had already disappeared.
"He fights like the Varald," Reckland said ruefully. "With those sailors already shocked by our sinking the Victory of Itaria, we could have moved in without firing a shot."
"That's not the Ryan I remember," Henrik replied. "Sergeant Wilson and I will move in and guard their rear, but I wonder what's wrong with him."
"I wonder myself," Reckland said, finding his thoughts wander to Davenport, and to a conversation that had taken place the night before he left, several days ago.
"Goodness," Emily Regale exclaimed. "Captain Reckland! I know you by sight, of course, but Lavie's told me about you, and so have Leah and David. They said you helped them get in to Galvenia in the first place. This is a pleasure."
"I merely helped them with their papers, ma'am," Reckland replied. "If you don't mind, can I speak to you and your daughter for a moment? It's important."
"To Lavie?" Emily asked.
Reckland flushed. "This concerns both of you, ma'am," he replied. "It's about your husband – and another old friend of yours."
"Sigmund?" It was Emily's turn to blush. Despite his many defects, she was very fond of her husband, and his incarceration was a sore trial to her. "Please do come in, Captain."
A little later, Emily returned with Lavie, who brightened as soon as she saw him. "Are you still a Captain, or have you been promoted?" she asked.
"It'll soon be 'Commodore'," Reckland said modestly, "at least as soon as I get my next mission. And that's part of why I came. We're heading to Caledonia, to try and rescue the Queen, and your friend Ryan Eramond will be joining us."
"Ryan?" Lavie looked embarrassed. "Is he all right?"
"Physically, yes, but I've heard stories among the men. He's a ruthless leader – kind and loyal to his men, but taking no prisoners. Compared to him, Prescott is an Itarian priest, and I'm an Itarian nun." He chuckled, and Lavie stifled a giggle at picturing the somber captain in a nun's habit. "I shall try my best to ensure his success and keep him safe, but I thought you might like to know."
"Thank you, Commodore Reckland," Lavie said gently. "But what about Daddy?"
"Mrs. Regale," Reckland said slowly, "am I wrong in assuming that, despite marrying a commoner, you still have friends and contacts among the nobility?"
"To some extent," Emily replied with a smile. "Some of the more snobbish of them did give us the cold shoulder, but my mother and father's families remained loyal."
"Then, if you can, pull as many strings as possible," Reckland said urgently, "for your sake, and for L – Miss Lavie's. He is not safe."
Lavie gasped. "What do you mean?" she whispered.
"We pick up a lot of gossip at the recruitment office – and in the pub," he admitted. "People tend to talk too much when they're pickled, and there are rumours that Sigmund Regale is holding on to a secret that some people in Lorean are nervous about."
"Actually," Lavie blurted out, then stopped.
"Miss Lavie, do you know anything about this?" Reckland said with alarm.
"I – I think so," she replied.
"Lavender Regale!" Emily said, surprised. "Really! What has your father been telling you?"
"It was just before he left, Mom," Lavie said in a low tone. "It was when Mr. Evens died. He gave me something to hide, and Daddy told me that it was something important, which I shouldn't tell anyone about."
Reckland started. "The day we evacuated Mann Island – I remember. You're resourceful, Miss Lavie."
Lavie smiled. "You're full of compliments today, aren't you, Commodore? But Mom, if this is true, we need to do something right away! Can you help?" She looked at Reckland helplessly.
"I certainly can try," Reckland replied. "One of the prison superintendents is an old friend of mine, so I can have a look right away, and maybe persuade him In the meantime, do not speak of this to anyone, Miss Lavie, except perhaps your mother. We do not know who is trustworthy."
"You are," Lavie said simply, a light flush coming to her cheeks. "Thank you, Commodore Reckland. Please try your best."
The guard around Sigmund Regale had been strengthened as a result, and one of the janitors, found to be carrying a knife when heading for his cell, had been suspended and remanded to custody. Still, he was worried. Not so much for Sigmund, whom he knew only slightly – but for her.
I wonder how much she cares for Eramond, he wondered, then stopped himself. She was a wealthy man's daughter – besides, she was young enough to be his daughter. Thinking along those lines could do him no good.
"Lieutenant, are you all right?" Henrik said with concern.
"Oh – just thinking about someone," Reckland replied, embarrassed.
"I know what you mean," Henrik said sympathetically. "I do that from time to time. My dad's at home alone, and there's someone else, too."
Reckland laughed. In contrast to Ryan's impassive exterior, he found Henrik's transparency refreshing. "That young nurse at Lorean? She's a fine girl. I've met her several times, while arranging transfers for the men, and she's told me a bit about you. I've heard that she helped Doctor Sherman find a cure for the plague."
Henrik smiled. "I've heard that, too. Will you be returning to Lorean now?"
"Three of our ships will stay behind, Lance-Corporal, and the rest of us will head back to Serin's Peak," he said. "Good fortune."
"Thank you, Commodore," Henrik said, as he and his men began to secure the docks, and to come to the aid of those whom Ryan himself had injured.
xxx
Ryan and his men circled the Fortress of Hohenzollern, which seemed strangely quiet. There were no soldiers in sight, except for three guards at the gate.
"They haven't heard yet," he said. "Still, be careful. Move in slowly."
As the first group of his men approached, the sound of footsteps drew closer.
"Fall back!" Ryan said. "If they thought they could get us with an ambush, they're mistaken! Grenades at the ready."
The Rough Riders' riflemen fired, and the group attacking them from the rear scattered. Drawing the short sword that Jason had given him, Ryan raised it to the sky. A strong gust of wind cut across the Zion men, blinding them with a whirl of dust. Drawing his rifle, he began to fire calmly.
"Finish the rest of them," he instructed the two sergeants with him. "We'll go in. The rest of you, stay back and guard the exit."
A further grenade was launched at the gate of the castle, exploding and knocking the three guards into the water. In a flash, Ryan – followed by the bulk of the Rough Riders – charged into the castle.
The hallways were empty, except for two snipers hiding on a staircase above them. As they fired, felling one of Ryan's men, he drew the longer sword and slashed forward. A ball of light struck them both, and they fell from the railing, lying still at his feet.
Carranya, he thought, the light bringing back memories of the only time they had actually fought together, on the Paradiso. I'll find you soon.
She may be in a high tower, Ryan Aramondrius, the woman said.
Impulsively, he began to head for a staircase, when he saw a sight that chilled him – a man in a doctor's coat, carrying a black bag, and accompanied by a woman in white, bearing a bowl of water and a towel. They descended a staircase, which seemed to lead into a basement or dungeon.
She could be ill! Ryan thought. They're trying to keep her alive so that they can blackmail us. Making his mind up rapidly, he signaled to his men, and began to follow them at a distance. They descended down a longer, winding stairway, until they came to a corridor which opened onto several rooms.
She must be here, Ryan thought. "Cover all the doors," he hissed. "If anyone comes out, except the Queen, take them down and question them."
Even as he spoke, he heard the sound of sobbing. The man in the doctor's coat and his companion disappeared into one of the rooms, and a man in the uniform of a Zion private came out.
Without a moment's hesitation, Ryan leapt at him and caught him from behind, grabbing his neck in a vice-like grip.
"You have exactly one minute to tell me where the Princess is," he whispered.
"In….there," he said hoarsely. Ryan threw him to the ground roughly, then drew his short sword, and slashed at the air. Beams of red light shot out of both sides of the blade, and the man screamed, then lay still.
Instantly, the doctor appeared at the door. "What was…" he began, then froze, as he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
"What are you doing to the Princess?" Ryan said, hatred in his eyes.
"Guards!" the man stammered. He raised his hand, but before he could speak any further, Ryan fired at point blank range, hitting him in the eye. He screamed and rolled on the ground, then lay still, breathing slowly and with effort.
"Clear the entire room!" Ryan said. "Leave no one alive, except the Queen – and the Prince Consort, if he is here. Waters, inform the rest of the men that we're here. Block the corridor. We're not leaving without her."
As he and his men entered the room, the woman in the white dress screamed and dropped her basin of water. With a smile on his face, Ryan fired at her, shattering her kneecap. As she fell to one knee, two of his men caught hold of her and bound her hand and foot.
Sitting on the bed, a grave expression on his face, was Jacob Lugner.
"You!" Ryan rushed forward, his sword drawn. "Jason warned me about you. What have you done to Carranya?"
"I?" Lugner shook his head. "Easy does it there, boy. Jason always was an idealist, and it was his undoing. I've pretended to play along with the Zion, but only so that I can be in at the death."
"Where is Carranya?" Ryan said insistently.
"Tsk, tsk. Such power, and in such irresponsible hands," Lugner said, looking warily at Ryan's sword. "They have just taken her through the Portal. I was too late to stop them. If you wish, I can unlock it for you, but on one condition."
"The Portal?"
"Only a man truly driven by a cause can enter it," Lugner went on. "Your men cannot. They are driven by duty, nothing else. If your intentions are pure – whether for good or for evil – then I will let you in. She is also there, awaiting her fate. Once you are inside, you are on your own."
"That's a chance I'll take," Ryan said. "Let me in, Lugner."
Lugner drew his sword and aimed it at the fireplace, where a log was burning. A strong gust of wind blew it out, and the log fragmented into glowing embers. The fireplace deepened, and seemed to lead into a deep tunnel – a dark road that led nowhere.
"Draw your weapon, boy," Lugner said, "and make your choice wisely."
My choice? Ryan looked at the two swords at his belt, when the symbol on the hilt of the longer one caught his eye. This must be it. Drawing it, he watched as the tunnel's walls lit up with a white light.
"I am disappointed, Ryan," Lugner said, addressing him by his name for the first time. "Still, it is your choice. Follow the path, and you will find what you seek."
With a nod and a brief smile, Ryan disappeared into the tunnel, while Lugner sat back down on the bed, unconcerned by the bemused troop of Galvenian soldiers who were facing him.
"What just happened?" one of them asked, finally.
"What ought to be," Lugner replied. "Wait around, for this may take a while."
xxx
As soon as he entered the tunnel, Ryan found himself surrounded by darkness again. He could hear nothing, except a faint sound of dripping water. Straining his ears, he felt as if he could hear words – words spoken in a woman's voice, in a tone of despair.
….love me?
…goods…
…mother…
…child…
"Show yourself!" Ryan said, drawing his sword. However, as much as he willed it, it would not yield any light.
Lord Geraud, he said silently, if you're there, please show me how to find Carrie. Please.
Almost at once, the answer came in the old man's serene voice.
She is calling to you, boy. Follow your heart.
He began to move forward, hesitantly at first, then confidently. As he moved deeper into the tunnel, the words became clearer.
Mother…do you still love me?
Damaged goods…
I may be a worthless mother….but I still love my child…
Ryan….
"Carrie!" With a cry, he began to run forward, all doubt dispelled from his mind, until he came up against a solid wall.
"Lugner's not the only Journeyman around here," he said, drawing the long sword. With a forward slash, the wall lit up and then crumbled, and he found himself in an ordinary room – one exactly like the one in which he had met Lugner. Lying on the bed, curled up, with her face buried in the pillow, was Carranya.
Ryan rushed to her side, and knelt beside the bed.
"Carrie," he said gently, "It's me, Ryan. Don't cry. I've found you, and Infinity help me, I'll get you out of here."
"You can't, Ryan," she wept, shaking her head. "It's too late. In a few hours, the doctor will come, and once he has – finished, they will take me to the Emperor. There's nothing we can do now."
"What do you mean, Carrie? I'm here beside you. Even if we have to face the Emperor, or any of his lackeys, I will fight them."
She said nothing, but buried her head against his shoulder. After a few moments, slowly, brokenly, she told him.
Ryan turned pale. "Are you sure?" he said, disbelievingly. My – no, our child. Mine – and Carranya's. This is….
"It could not – be otherwise," she whispered. Slowly, Ryan lifted her up, and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. "And Doctor Heigel said that, if it was not – not over by tonight, he would…make sure that it was."
"I'll kill him," Ryan said calmly.
"Ryan!" Carranya exclaimed, then shook her head. "That won't do any good. Even if we stop him, their medicine – may already have poisoned our child, Ryan. I can't even feel him move that often. Oh, Ryan…."
"Carrie…" he began.
"The nightmares have come back, Ryan," she went on, helplessly. "I can't escape my past. Damaged goods, Ryan. It's true…"
"It's a lie!" Ryan said firmly, trying desperately to think of the right thing to say. "It's all an evil lie. I'll prove it to you."
"Thank you, Ryan, my love," she replied – and even the endearment chilled him, as he saw the state she was in, and though he held her to him and tried to comfort her, his own mind was far from calm.
Destroy them. Destroy the monsters. The Zion are not human. I will not treat them as human any longer.
He looked at his sword. Is there nothing I can do?
We have the power to help ourselves, boy, the elderly man's voice retorted. Sometimes we have to do things ourselves. You cannot always be a saviour.
Ryan swore inwardly. Leave me alone, old man. What good can your sermons do now?
The hands that can destroy can also create.
Ryan stifled an oath, then looked at his sword.
Destroy and create, he thought. The blade is a weapon, but even surgeons use the blade. As they did when they fixed my wounds.
Like a flash of lightning, it struck him.
"Carrie!" he said sharply, taking hold of her shoulders and looking her in the eye. "Carrie, listen to me! I have the answer."
"Ryan, you don't have to…." Carranya said softly.
"Listen to me!" He was no longer addressing the Queen of Galvenia, but his fellow soldier on the battlefield. "You can do this yourself! You have the gift, too. Use it!"
"The gift?"
"Remember how you healed my wounds, Carrie!" He was almost drunk with the realization that the solution was in her own hands. "Use those powers on yourself – or rather, on your child – on our child!"
Carranya stared at him in amazement. "Do – do you really think it will work, Ryan?"
"Of course!" he replied. "For all our sakes, Carrie, you have to try! I believe you can. Have a little faith…"
Closing her eyes, Carranya placed her hands over her waist. She began to tremble, but Ryan held on to her, and after several minutes – minutes which were among the longest in Ryan's life – she opened her eyes and smiled.
"Ryan," she said, "I – it worked. I can't believe it!"
"Believe it, Carrie," Ryan said. He placed a hand over her sash, and received a vigorous kick in reply. "He's a chip off the old block, that's for sure!"
Carranya blushed, and beamed at him. "But – what will we do now, Ryan?" she replied, placing her hand over his.
"Don't worry," he said. "Let's wait for your Doctor. I have a plan."
Night fell, and the Rough Riders guarding the Castle of Hohenzollern waited anxiously. No further Zion troops had been sighted, but without their leader, they felt strangely alone – and, though they dared not admit it – afraid.
Within the Portal, Ryan waited behind the door of Queen Carranya's room, ready to strike.
As the door swung open and Doctor Heigel entered, he walked slowly towards Carranya, a smile on his face. "Ah, you groan," he said. "Have the pains commenced?"
"They're….terrible," Carranya replied, bent double and moaning loudly. "Please….do something, Doctor."
Rubbing his gloved hands together, Heigel moved forward – and was thrown to the ground, a blast of red light searing his hands. The leather of his gloves was scorched, and large blisters began to form on his palms. He cried out in pain, but before he knew what was happening, Ryan had thrown a bedsheet around his face, and gagged him.
"Listen to me, you murderer," he said, pushing him against the wall with the butt of his rifle. "You are going to do exactly as I say, if you do not want your brains to decorate the floor of this room."
Heigel glared and him and shook his head.
"Fool," Ryan replied. "You ought to have listened to me." Pointing his sword at the doctor's face, he closed his eyes and thrust forward.
Heigel screamed, though none could hear him. The pain was like a bomb exploding within his nose, his mouth, his entire skull, and he fell to the ground, tears of agony in his eyes.
"If you want," Ryan replied, "we can continue this little game for a few more hours. You seem like a tough customer to me."
Doctor Heigel waved his hands frantically, then hung his head. Ryan ripped the gag away from him, and backed him up against the wall again, the muzzle of his gun pointing at the doctor's throat.
"That's more reasonable," he said. "If you're a good boy, I'll ask the Queen to heal you – she's so magnanimous that she just might, unless I stop her." He smiled – a cruel smile – then slapped the Doctor with his gloved hand. "Now listen to me. When the time comes to visit your Emperor, or Viceroy, or whoever the Clown-in-Chief is around here, you will carry your little jug back with you." He pointed to the metal urn that Heigel had dropped when the first blow struck him. "You will take us to him, and we will manage things from there."
Terror in his eyes, the doctor nodded mutely. Ryan shoved him to the ground, then tied his hands and feet, and sat down calmly in a chair.
Carranya shivered and let out a sigh of relief. "Is he wounded?" she whispered.
"Not seriously," Ryan said. "Now, let's wait."
A little later, a guard arrived at the door of their room, calling out for Doctor Heigel. A shot rang out, and his sentence died in his throat as he fell, bleeding from a neck wound. Quickly, Ryan stripped off the man's outer armour and exchanged it for his own.
"Lead the way, Doctor," he said, with a firm grip on the hapless Heigel's shoulder. Walking slowly, hesitantly, he led Ryan and Carranya into a larger passageway, holding his metal urn to his chest. After what seemed like over a mile, they found themselves in a large room, whose walls glowed with the same red light as the cave near Victoria. There was a single chair in the room, and on it sat a man – tall, vigorous, but clearly advanced in years. Only traces of his original yellow hair showed among the thick strands of silver, and a coronet was perched on his head.
Standing next to him, at his left and right hands respectively, were Pontiff Maximillian and the Duke of Marksmith. At his feet, transfixed with a sword, was the corpse of a Zionese nobleman. Carranya, recognizing him as Hunermann, shuddered.
"Good evening, Your Majesty," the man said, raising his hand to reveal a large scepter, studded with diamonds. "I have been waiting for this moment for decades now."
"Who are you, that you should wait for me?" Carranya said defiantly. "I do not know you."
"You speak wisely, Queen Carranya, for the pictures of a decrepit old man, propped up by Maximillian and the Viceroys, may have given you the wrong impression. But that is all in the past. Emperor Charlemagne Valtemond of Zion welcomes you, my young fellow monarch."
"Charlemagne?" Carranya exclaimed, while Ryan tried not to betray his surprise. "What do you want with me?"
"Only what rightfully belongs to me, Your Majesty," Charlemagne said with a smile, as a petrified Heigel mechanically laid the urn at his feet, next to the late Hunermann's head. "Welcome to the sacrifice, Queen Carranya."
xxx