33. When angels cry
“My Lady” Death bowed as she was about to re-entered the theatre proper, the music falling away to silence at the sound of approaching war horns only to resume at the ‘play on!’ cries from the floor. Behind the lich Angelica marked Lord Souzou’s lion mask and Emery’s silver wolf’s head painted with swirls of red and blue light.
She bought her sword hand before her face with the blade vertical in salute, her eyes locked on Death’s porcelain visage, before lowering it in a sweep to her left where it remained, blade parallel to her dress.
“My Lady I implore you to calm, we have much to discuss anon. But for this moment hold. Permit those nearing to sentence themselves with words from their own lips if it be so rather than act in haste.” the old lich remained low, his posture reinforcing his message, then added “As a gesture of good will Lord Emery has waived his claim over your Mann.”
When nothing immediately happened the lion tuned and nodded sharply, eliciting wolf’s growl of frustration as Emery waved to his soldiers. “I concur” the wolf growled in frustration at the bargain imposed.
Two guards shoved someone forward who crumpled towards the ground with a grunt of pain.
“Antaryon!” Liva exclaimed as she darted past to grab him halting his collapse.
“As you wish, My Lord” Angelica replied formally, dipping her head.
Death moved to stand beside her, staying well clear of her motionless blade, as the other two melted back into the dancers. Liva helped Antaryon behind them both and quickly and quietly set about assessing his injuries.
A shadow resolved into a Lady, her deep blue gown and simple white and blue mask unmistakable. Brizanda elegantly dropped into a deep formal courtesy before Angelica “Forgive me My Lady”.
Angelica levelled a cold stare at the vampire. “Words alone cannot replace the one I lost.”
“My Lord also wishes to convey his regret for the inconvenience and wishes you to accept to your service the baker and his wife should you care for them.”
“I shall,” Angelica dipped her head and with careful emphasis replied “I accept your apology.”
From perfect stillness Brizanda flowed with deadly grace to standing just out of lunge range of Angelica’s blade, joining in as dancers swept past, their eyes meticulously avoiding the obvious tableaux.
“Some are beginning to work it out.” Death said quietly.
“Oh?” Angelica replied softly. Did Adam talk? Was it a mistake not to end him as well? Do they know?
“Not a single spark; yet we are doomed by the same flame” the lich replied softly “our world is being remade. Most still play on, unseeing.”
-----//-----
Trumpets insisted over the music, followed by loud cries of “Silence! Attend!” from a herald. Angelica remained still, heeding the warning so recent, her eyes searching but her feet still. A screen of dancers had stopped between her and the entrance. Clever. As she looked carefully from one to the next she could see some had shields slung low behind them, and they were arranged with both tall and short, a living battlement behind which she and the lich could watch yet remain unseen with but a step. Very clever.
“Silence!” the herald clearly had the throng intrigued, the dancing forgot. Even the minstrels gawking from behind their betters. “Silence! … it is my great honour to present, fresh from the field, The Holy One, the Bearer of Light, victorious!” the crowd cheered raucously, with much stomping of feet, which ebbed at the herald’s cry. “My Lords, My Ladies, the Bringer of Hope, Lord Dragor!”
No, it can’t be! Angelica was careful to mask her confusion. Surely another who simply shared the name of the dead ambassador.
To a loud stomping of feet a stout soldier garbed in brigandine over chain entered, the halo of torch light glittering off the inlaid gems and metals of his story armour to grand effect.
No!
“Friends” he began in a commander’s voice “My army rests, encamped before these very walls as I scout the fortress.”
The crowd laughed and cheered, some wag yelling “congratulations on sneaking in M’Lord!”
“We shall ready for a dawn assault” he boomed “a dawn which they will never see, for tonight we feast!”
Control. Angelica bit her lip, the intensity of the pain contesting her fury. But he died - and that armour, it was on our ship!
Death clapped politely beside her, the sound as much to draw her attention as to maintain decorum. “It has always been thus” he said softly behind his mask. “A lord travels abroad, raises a host dedicated to destroying this place of evil, and sails forth on crusade.”
“Lambs to the slaughterhouse” Angelica replied in cold hatred.
“The shepherd is returned” the lich paused, hesitating but then continued. “Every third generation. Long ago, it was called The Harvest.” He hung his head “Blame not this one for keeping to our traditions.”
“Then whom do I blame?” Angelica snapped in reply.
“Me” the lich replied “for it was my idea to lead the first Crusade to their doom.”
Control!
The lich continued “My Lady, all of this” he gestured about the gathering “do you not see that you are the herald of the end?”
Angelica stared at him, trying to solve the puzzle while being distracted by the babbling herald as he described the battles and victories of the shepherd.
“My Lady” Liva whispered close “One cannot live on stolen apples when the orchard is no more.”
“And now you understand what Elbereth long ago predicted” the lich replied quickly “Nothing lasts forever” the lich carefully applauded the latest empty triumph of the damned, “even for the dead”. He turned to face Angelica directly “My Lady, but this is not why we sought to counsel you to calm. That moment nears.” he offered softly.
Angelica tried to imagine the garden, but failed, the blade of her sword quivering with anger.
The lightness of Liva’s hand on hers pulled her back; she looked to her friend and understood. Together. They held hands, imaginations racing faster than the babble of platitudes cheered by the rabble.
“Behold!” the herald swept his arm up theatrically, as a huge Mann was hauled forward by soldiers holding his chains. With a heave they pulled his legs from under him and he fell upon the stones with a crack, clank, and roar of pure rage.
No. Angelica drew her breath in sharply. Maygus!
A shape, a woman, pranced forward, her black and silver armour gleaming in the torchlight. She was obviously enjoying the adulation of the crowd. “A gift for my Lord!” she waved wide to the roaring masses, then curtsied to Lord Emery, who dipped his wolf’s head in acknowledgement.
“Betrayer!” Maygus spat, the glistening blob deftly sidestepped by Victoria to land with a splot on the dark stones. .
“As you may see, his spirit is unbroken” the crowd cheered. “Perhaps you care to tame him as a pet?” she spun.
“But wait, what is this?!” she gestured to the entrance, and the crowd hushed in anticipation. A drummer beat out slow time as six soldiers stepped forward as one, each holding a long pole linked to a steel collar about a woman’s neck, her face obscured by dishevelled hair, her dress a shadowy mess.
No no no! Control!
The wailing cry chilled Angelica’s heart, and she clung to Liva’s hand desperately fighting for control.
“This viper is deadly indeed. So convinced was she that there was a traitor aboard ship that even as we stole about she too up her dagger” Victoria held a plain sailor’s dagger aloft to the crowd’s view, its blade black with dried blood that enthralled the crowd yet more. “She took up her dagger, and stabbed her Lady Olga, then cast her body over the side!”
The crowd gasped at the audacity to murder her own lady as if a common criminal, but also laughed and jeered that she had so spectacularly failed in seeing the true threat.
The pitiful wailing intensified, and Lady Violet intensified her forlorn efforts to bite though the poles and shackled chains about her hands.
“A welcome is in order” Victoria called up the crowd “Let me present Tori-Anna, a fledgling without whom this triumph would not have been possible!”
Control! In desperation Angelica turned away, seeking solace in Liva’s eyes.
“Just breathe, M’Lady” Liva said softly, then adding at barely above a whisper “Words are not truth”.
Angelica allowed a slow breath to escape. Liva was correct, this was theatre, the truth might be very different. Control! She forced her attention back to the procession.
“May I present the greatest prize of all!” Victoria curtseyed low to Lords Emery and Dragor who stood side by side enjoying the show, the crowd respectfully keeping their distance. “The one whom restored what was lost to its rightful owner! A prisoner freed! A seer, sage leader of Mann!” Victoria had the crowd completely “the Keeper of
Flames, an ally without whom this crusade would not be here!”
The crowd roared anew as the fiery red haired priest strode into the light, carrying his tattered filthy robes regally as any present. Ithikari waved to the shadows, then walked up to Maygus, the crowd hushing in anticipation. He reached out and patted the big Mann on his head. “You should have heeded my counsel” he laughed “and thrown your bitch brat noble over the side long ago.”
“Coward” Maygus fumed “You and I, right now, to the death.”
“Ah” Dragor smiled brightly. “As entertaining as that might be, alas it would not be profitable.”
The crowd sent up a cheer, some shouting in favor of the duel, others placing bets on who would win.
Lord Emery raised his hand, silence slowly following. “My Lord Dragor, we shall doubtless discuss the prize due for the recovery of your honour.” Dragor placed his hands upon his ornate armour, dipping his head in acceptance as Emery continued. “But for now” his voice boomed. “Who will open the bidding!”
The crowd went wild with delight, yelling numbers and jeering at competitors. “Souls and favours!” Emery yelled enthusiastically.
Angelica looked to Liva for her input. “Wait, why is there blood on your hands?” she asked instead, startled back to reality.
With a glance behind them, Liva straightened her shoulders. “Antaryon’s soul is free.” she declared simply.
Control!
“My Lady” the big lich stepped beside Liva “permit me”.
Angelica stared at him, eyes narrowed with barely contained rage.
“I ask only that when the time comes, you take this with you.” The lich bowed, and offered a plain looking leather scroll case to Liva.
“Very well” Angelica dipped her head. They have a plan, I do not, let us see how well his goes. Who the hell is the “we” he mentioned, anyway? She looked to the herald taking bids in the center of the theater. I should kill every last one of them.
“You will know your cue” the lich said softly as Liva accepted the scroll and he moved into the crowd through their living wall.
“You trust him M’Lady?” Liva whispered urgently.
Angelica’s sour glance spoke for her.
--------//--------
At a nod Lord Sozou walked into the centre of the baying pack of bidders, slamming the ornate metal staff he carried onto the stones below. “Attend!” his scarlet guards chanted in unison until silence fell.
“The charge is proven” Souzou said quietly.
Confusion raced about the shadowy faces at the words. Turning his lion head, Lord Souzou nodded to the shadowy figure “My Lord?”
Death walked calmly to stand beside Sozou. “Ours is a nation of law. Before, we merely set upon each other, pitiful wretches existing in holes scraped into the rock with our bare hands to escape Angelica and Ao’s wrath in the daylight. Our laws granted us the unity to plan, to build, to trade.” Death looked around the room. “Even to dine.” The crowd chuckled despite the ominous beginning.
“Well sell the me the big one, I’ll dine well indeed M’Lord!” someone yelled to quiet mirth.
Undeterred Death continued on calmly. “Our laws have been broken. The question is the price due.” The big lich looked towards Angelica as she hid quietly behind the wall of soldiers.
Victoria stepped forward, curtseyed then rose. “But-”
“When we stole aboard” Death roared, Victoria cowering at his vehemence.
Angelica walked forward slowly, Liva close behind. As she moved through the crowd it fell back a healthy distance from her drawn blade. Whispers washed over her ears, “who is she?” and she could not resist a smile at the gasps and flying rumour “is she Qin?” then “that one behind, did she buy the seer?”
“My Lords” she said as she stepped calmly into the circle, dipping her head.
“They are yours?” Death said as he bowed low.
Angelica simply nodded once.
“Free them immediately” Lord Souzou pronounced part of his sentence.
The soldiers holding the long poles looked hesitant as Lady Violet went still, her smile wide. Their screaming did not last long once the great iron collar was unlocked, but the gathering simply waited upon the great Lords and Lady still standing before them.
Maygus glared at his guards as they fled his free hands, but rather than take vengeance he moved to offer Lady Violet his arm. She accepted, the fresh blood splattered over her face jarring with her courtly poise as they moved together to stand behind Angelica.
“But!” Ithikari protested, as he was herded to also stand behind Angelica at spearpoint.
“Wait” the silver mask of Lord Emery re-emerged from the shadows. “She is mine!” he demanded, pointing to Liva.
“And they are mine” Angelica retorted pointing to Victoria and Tori-Anna with her unmistakable sword.
Souzou laughed, shifting his weight as he danced to the chaos.
“Lady Sharielane!” Death barked. “Where is the astrologist!”
“Here” a tall lady with long black plaited hair rushed into the circle, light playing off the dual strings of pearls in her hair as she struggled to not drop the oversized scroll cases that she carried. “Present M’Lords!” she dropped a case as she curtseyed, her night dark eyes wide as she noticed Angelica and hastily added “M’Lady!”.
“Where stand the skies?” Souzou said quietly and calmly.
“Only a single star shall rise tonight” Sharielane’s eyes flicked to Angelica “but Ao will not be seen this night, and Angelica’s fire shall return as normal at normal time for dawn M’Lords.” She hugged her scroll cases tight. “Luna, Sanguinis, and Pacyen near their alignment.”
“Shadow, loss, and duty” Death said carefully. “My Lords, the Great Conjunction is at hand. “Where stand your armies, Holy One?”
The crowd was silent in anticipation.
“Encamped on the field preparing for the dawn assault” Lord Dragor grinned.
“A dawn they shall never see” Death added quietly.
“The law is the law” Souzou said simply, nodding to the other liches present. “We shall see this matter resolved on the battlefield. He slammed his staff into the ground three times, and the crowd rushed delightedly into the shadows to prepare for battle. Lord Souzou turned to Angelica, and began to laugh quietly as Death escorted them out of the theatre, her tiny band of living clustered close behind her followed by the dubiously loyal soldiers with their triple chevrons.
Angelica looked up at the bleak sky, wishing against logic that she could call the dawn forward, but all she could see before they entered the tunnels again was sullen low cloud and darkness. All she could hear over the tramp of boots was echoing, mocking laughter.
