Chapter XLIV

“Locked in a cell after winning your battle for you,” Tamas said. “Glad to know my efforts are appreciated.”

“Silence, warlock!” Shamira shouted and kicked at him through the bars.

“Enough, Shamira,” Aryn said. “Tamas, you conjured demons and then claimed to be one yourself. I hope you can understand why we're a bit suspicious.”

“More than a bit, I think,” Tamas said, pointing to the many paladins who stood nearby. All of them had their diamond swords and spears pointed at him.

“If you try to conjure anything else we want to be able to stop you, quickly,” Aryn said.

“I can only conjure demons if my blood is spilled. Just take sharp objects away from me and you'll be safe.”

“I hope you realize I can't take your word for that.”

“Right. Well, your friend here,” he indicated Shamira, “Said I have a lot of explaining to do, so let's get to it.”

“Yes,” Aryn pulled up a stool and sat next to his cell. “You're able to conjure legions of demons in an instant. We've only seen one person who could do that before, Cory, and that was only because he had some kind of magical ring. Why can you conjure so many demons at once? The ring was destroyed.”

“Doubtful, the ring can't be destroyed, you just hid it really well,” said Tamas.

“Regardless, my question stands.”

“King Sulaiman was a king of Nihilus who was known for his many wives, and for committing many terrible blasphemies. Some of those blasphemies were so terrible they even offended Prunikos and the other daemons of the Void. In his lifetime there was an Aeon, like me, a daemon born in human flesh. She was leading Nihilus to a better age of enlightenment. She taught that if the Nihilites wanted to put an end to the prison world they needed to bring all nations into the light, enlighten everyone. She taught a way of peace, of showing compassion for your enemies. Sulaiman didn't like that, he argued that violence got quicker results, so he had his assassins kill the Aeon in her sleep and collect her blood. It was using her blood that he created the ring which Cory later used when he invaded this city.”

“Are we really going to listen to these lies?” Shamira asked. “If he's possessed by a demon he's far too dangerous to be left alive.”

“Possessed implies I'm subjugating a human soul so that I can use the body. My soul is the only one inhabiting this body.”

“Regardless, if you're a demon you should be killed!” Shamira said.

“Did I not tell you to stand down, Shamira?” Aryn asked.

“Yes, your majesty.” Shamira shrunk back, hanging her head.

“Now, here's another question for you, how exactly does an Aeon come to be?”

“A woman willingly possessed by daemons must become pregnant,” Tamas said. “My mother is a soothsayer, so she was possessed by many daemons when my father impregnated her.”

“You said your father was King Therion?”

“Yes, that's true.”

“Then you're here to do what he failed to do? Destroy Arx?”

“I hold no loyalty to the way my father did things,” Tamas said. “See, like I said, I have a twin, his name is Elykos. We were born in Sabura, kept secret by a small coven of Nihilite warlocks and witches. From a young age they told us who we were, that we were daemons and not merely human boys, and they told us our purpose. They told us we were to lead them some day.

“As Ely and I experienced the world, however, we found ourselves less and less believing that such a world was created by a purely evil God. Sure, there were problems with the world, but there were also wonderful things in the world too, too wonderful to be created just to deceive prisoners into loving their chains. So, my brother and I talked about our plan, a plan with four parts. One-we would work our way into the trust of various world leaders. Two-we would influence these world leaders in order to create a new age of peace for all people. Three-we would start teaching the Nihilite religion, but a much more peaceful version, one that sought spiritual enlightenment and focused on letting go of the things of this world, rather than actually striving for destruction. Four-when we had converted enough people we would attempt to open up a peaceful dialogue with the Agalmite God himself, see if he would concede to letting souls leave Erets when they died, if they so wished.”

“That plan...” Aryn began, “Frankly...it sounded good until part four. At that point it sounded insane.”

“You're talking to an Aeon, a daemon in a human body, you don't think if people can talk to daemons that they should be able to talk to God?”

Aryn shrugged, “I'm talking to a man who CLAIMS he's a demon, and maybe even believes it. Anyway, this brother of yours, does he have the same powers you do? Conjuring legions of demons with his blood?”

“No,” Tamas shook his head. “His power is much different, both less destructive and more dangerous. He can enter the minds of others. He can implant ideas into their heads, read their thoughts, and speak to their minds. If he's been in their minds for long enough and they've given into enough of his suggestions, he can outright control them.”

Aryn shivered at the thought of a demon reading her thoughts, or implanting ideas in her head. Truthfully, she hoped and prayed Tamas was just a madman, that he had no idea how he'd conjured so many demons, and this whole story was a fever dream. He claimed he and his brother were there to create peace, but frankly how well was that working out?

“Do you want him executed?” Shamira asked.

“No,” Aryn shook her head. “I've had the geomancers working on a special way to keep him contained for now. Kamal! You may enter!”

The door to the dungeons opened and Kamal walked in. He carried a small, steel vest with diamonds in it and Ancient Script written all over it. “Here you are, your Majesty, just like you wanted.”

“Excellent,” Aryn said. She took the vest and handed it to one of the dungeon guards, “Place this on the prisoner. Tamas, if you struggle you will be killed, do you understand?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Tamas said.

The guard cautiously opened the cell door and entered. To his surprise Tamas cooperated, made it easy for the guard to place the vest over him. The guard locked it shut and hooked up the loops in the vest to chains attached to the wall.

Kamal spoke to Tamas, “This vest will make sure you don't escape. Should you attempt to leave your cell, attempt to remove the vest, or attempt to conjure your demons the diamonds in the vest have been enchanted to fly through you and slice your body to ribbons. One diamond is even situated right in front of your heart to make sure you die quickly.”

“So if I don't try to escape I can live?” Tamas asked.

“That will be for the Queen to decide.”

. . .

Aryn found Milo in the sanctuary of the Grand Cathedral. He was on his knees before the statue of God. His hands were clasped and he prayed under his breath. As she approached he repeatedly switched between merely kneeling with his eyes turned up to the statue, and face-down on the ground, humbly. He certainly wasn't the only one in the sanctuary. Hundreds of others; soldiers, knights, city guards, militia, and paladins were all gathered in the sanctuary to pray. After what they'd just seen, it made sense that they would want to pray for God's mercy upon them. Angels had just attacked Arxians, and demons, in turn, defended them. Many had likely come to doubt that their cause was just.

Aryn knelt beside Milo and began to pray as well, or, at least, pretend that she was praying. “You said the angels attacking us were fallen angels. How do you know?” Aryn asked.

“I don't,” said Milo. “But it logically follows. I know that the Inquisition follows the guidance of a fallen angel, Sandalphon, who claims God is dead. If one angel can fall others can too, and logically only fallen angels would attack the capital.”

“But God's angels didn't come to our aid,” Aryn said. “Demons came to our aid.”

“God has a limited number of angels,” Milo said. “When the demons appeared in such large numbers he probably decided we were safe, and decided not to risk his angels under those circumstances.”

Aryn stared at the statue of God. For a moment she wanted to yell at him, ask him why he wasn't doing more to keep her in power if he wanted her to be Queen. Couldn't he hit the enemy with a severe earthquake? Or send his angels to attack their camp in the middle of the night? Or grant each of the paladins the strength of one-hundred men so that they could win this battle more easily? She knew he wasn't omnipotent, but he was bound to be powerful enough to turn the tide of the war in their favor. She found herself struggling with doubts over this, wondering why it was demons and not angels who came to their defense. Was Tamas really telling the truth? Did he really want to create a more peaceful age?

Come to think of it, was that what the prophecy in the Book of Crowns was saying? It said that Aryn alone would have a chance to bring peace to Erets, to create a new age of peace. Was Tamas the key to her creating this new age of peace? Maybe she was supposed to cooperate with him?

First thing was first, though, she had to focus on the siege. She had to stop Mahla's coup.

. . .

“The Queen has arrived!” a scout shouted.

At first Jachai thought that the scout meant Aryn. He reached for his sword, ready to fight, but it soon dawned on him that the scout, given that he was coming from the direction of the river, probably meant Mahla, and Jachai breathed a sigh of relief. He kept his sword with him, just in case there was an attack, but his nerves were calm now as he went to meet Mahla.

From just outside his tent he could see her brown flag, the Dunn Banner, and soon he saw her as well. She brought with her the five-hundred mercenaries turned knights, and over one-thousand soldiers from Laherig. Mahla gave him a friendly wave when she saw him.

“Hello there, old friend.”

“Using the term 'old' loosely, I hope,” said Jachai as he walked up to her.

“How goes the siege?”

“We've bombarded them with trebuchet, we've killed many of their people, and we've all but broken their morale. There's a slight problem, however. During the battle one of their people conjured demons, an entire legion of them. If I had to venture a guess, the ring Cory had sixteen years ago when he attacked the capital wasn't really thrown into the sea like Sarahi claimed. They still have it, and a warlock is on the inside, helping them. If that's true, and paladins are working with Nihilites, then the Agalmite Church truly has fallen from grace.”

“Queen Aryn is far more sinister than we thought,” said Mahla. “Do we have a way of countering this black magic?”

“We have the Inquisition's witch-hunters, they can summon angels, but that might not be enough,” Jachai said. “We may have to simply wait until they've been starved out. We'll wait out here, keep their supply lines cut off, they'll soon be too weak and hungry to put up much of a resistance.”

“We can't wait that long. Marquise Nerissa's army and a Saburan army are on the other side of the river, looking for a way to cross. They'll figure out how to cross the river soon, and when they get their troops across...”

“We'll break. Damn it!” Jachai shouted and kicked at the ground.

“Pardon me, Mahla,” Lila said, touching Mahla's shoulder. “I mean, your Majesty,” Lila pulled her hand away and bowed, “But perhaps I could sneak into the city and kill Queen Aryn.”

“Far too risky, borderline impossible,” Mahla said. “On a normal day it would be hard enough to assassinate her. On a night when the city has been under siege for days? No, the guards will be on the lookout too much.”

“Pardon me, your Excellency, your Majesty,” said a soldier approaching the group.

“What is it?” Jachai demanded.

“I have here a young man from within the capital, a member of the militia. He says he and his friends would like to make you an offer.”

. . .

Back inside the city, Aryn paced the halls of the castle. She'd laid her head down on her pillow, closed her eyes, but she was unable to fall asleep. She needed sleep, she knew that. Tomorrow would most definitely be another battle, and she needed her senses for that.

“Your majesty,” said Shamira as she watched the Queen pace. “Would you like me to get the servants to fetch you some warm milk? Or a sleeping potion?”

“No...I hear if you have a nightmare while under the effects of a sleeping potion you can't wake from it, and I'm more than likely going to have nightmares tonight.”

“That doesn't rule out warm milk.”

“Warm milk makes me gag.”

“Oh.”

“Why do you follow me, Shamira?” Aryn asked.

“It's my job as your bodyguard.”

“You could have quit at any time, even defected, joined Mahla's side,” Aryn said. “Clearly she's the better military commander.”

“That doesn't make her the better queen,” Shamira said. “To answer your question, I follow you because while you have the heart of a queen you aren't so high and mighty that you forget the common people. I follow you because you're the kindhearted queen I've known for years. Furthermore, I follow you because the Arch-Bishop believes in you.”

“That's a lot of pressure,” Aryn said. “You do realize that, right? It's a lot to try to live up to the expectations of others.”

“It can't be easy, I know,” said Shamira.

Aryn walked over to one of the windows and looked out at the night sky. Again she was dazzled by the stars, lost in their beauty. She'd been taught all her life that those stars, though beautiful, were each the homes of demons of the Void. Supposedly, every demon was poised and ready to strike, ready to slaughter the innocent people of Erets. Yet her recent interactions with Tamas had made her wonder. He seemed to have such a tender heart. He'd held her comfortingly that night before, but hadn't made any attempt to take it any further. No attempt at a kiss, no attempt to seduce her, nothing, so it was truly for comfort. When he'd discovered that Paolo had been murdered he'd flown into such a rage, the sort of anger one only gets when loved ones have been taken from them. He'd truly cared for Paolo, she was sure of it. It couldn't all be an act. Maybe he'd been telling the truth when he told her his plan with his brother to create peace.

The sound of trumpets at the walls and bells in the Grand Cathedral broke her trance, though, and she looked down at the city to see what was happening. She could barely make it out in the moonlight, but it looked as if large swarms of soldiers in gleaming armor, many on horseback, poured in through the western and eastern gates of the city. Smaller gates, but large enough to let the invaders flood the streets. “No! No, they've gotten in! How did they get in?”

. . .

Mahla's insane luck in every battle she'd ever led never ceased to amaze Lila. Several members of the peasant militia within the city had gotten together and discussed what they'd seen the previous day: an army of angels attacking those loyal to Aryn and a legion of demons defending them. They'd come to the conclusion that if that was what was happening then Aryn must not be on God's side, or rather that God must not be on Aryn's. So these peasant conscripts agreed to open the eastern and western gates of the city and let in Mahla and Jachai's forces in exchange for the promise that their families would not be harmed, and that they would not be executed for treason.

So the gates were thrown open, and Mahla and Jachai's forces flooded the city. Most of the soldiers within the city were in bed, getting a good night's rest before the battle they believed would be coming the next morning. The sounds of trumpets and bells roused them from their sleep, and once they realized that they were under attack they scrambled for their armor and weapons.

Mahla knew to strike before they were fully awake, though, and she had several of her soldiers surround every barracks. They shot through the windows with their crossbows and stabbed any soldiers who came out the doors with their swords and spears.

The peasant militia within the city awoke in the various houses and ran out to meet the invading army. They ambushed them from every house, every shop, every alley in the capital city. Sadly, disoriented and inexperienced as they were they soon found they were little match for the seasoned soldiers who laid waste to their home.

Jachai had decided to hold off on having the witch-hunters summon angels. He wanted the angels to have the drop on the demons, should the warlock with Cory's ring make an appearance. Lila had already been instructed that should said warlock appear she was to slay him immediately, and she stalked the rooftops, crossbow in hand.

Mahla and her soldiers beheaded several militia soldiers and threw their heads through the windows of several of the houses, much to the horror of the militia soldiers lying in wait inside. They weren't used to seeing such horrible violence, and so most of them lost their nerve and never left the houses to attack the invading army.

One by one the invading army took city block after city block, closing in on the castle in the middle of the capital.

Jachai marched at the front of his army, his claymore in hand and his eyes set on the castle. When last he'd been to the castle he'd been there to celebrate the crowning of the Pretender Queen. It was a comfort to know that he himself would right that wrong, and place the crown on the head of a true queen this time.

The front doors of the Grand Cathedral burst open as Jachai's army drew close, and paladins poured out, attacking Jachai's soldiers. Among the paladins was Milo himself, wielding his diamond blade to cut down the ranks of Jachai's men.

Jachai felt a hatred burn in his heart at the very sight of Milo. Here he was; the conspirator who had caused this war. Yes, it was Milo who was truly at the heart of it all. If this arrogant peasant hadn't conspired to get his peasant daughter on the throne none of this would have happened. Jachai himself might have been king for a time, and then he'd have passed the crown on to Mahla. Yes, here stood the true enemy of Arx, the enemy of peace, and Jachai had the chance to cut him down himself.

Jachai's eyes met Milo, and he rushed at him, sword raised high over his head. Milo jumped to one side of Jachai, ready to take a swing back at him as he passed, but he lost his footing and crashed in a pile of rubble beside the street. Jachai was on him again in an instant. He slashed at him through the rubble as Milo rolled and tumbled. Finally Milo rolled to his feet and brought his sword up to block Jachai's. The diamond blade cut a small notch in Jachai's steel blade, stopping the sword dead in its tracks. Jachai raised his foot and kicked Milo in the stomach, and Milo stumbled back. As Milo struggled to regain his footing, Jachai swung his blade across and smashed it into Milo's armored shoulder. The armor stopped the blade, but the shoulder pauldron did cave inwards into Milo's arm. Milo winced and swung his own sword around, in such a wide arc that the soldiers who'd crept up on Milo to help Jachai were forced to fall back. Jachai backed out of the reach of the blade, and when Milo's swing was finished he felt a sharp pain in the shoulder Jachai had struck. A mere joint pain caused Milo to drop his sword.

Jachai saw the opening and came after Milo again. He swung down at him over and over. Milo managed to keep his head away from Jachai's claymore, but his body suffered from Jachai's blows, battered and bruised under the armor. One of Jachai's soldiers leaped at Milo from behind, but, to his surprise, Milo jerked him around and held him in the way of Jachai's sword. Milo then took the soldier's mace and rushed Jachai. When he got close enough to where Jachai couldn't effectively swing such a large sword in time to defend himself, Milo bashed Jachai over the head with the mace. As Jachai stumbled and staggered around, his vision a blur, Milo picked up his sword and drove it through Jachai's heart. The diamond blade pierced through Jachai's armor and straight through Jahcai's body.

Milo didn't have long to celebrate this victory, however. Jachai's army, now loyal purely to Mahla, still closed in on the castle. Even without Jachai's leadership they'd be there soon, and when they got there it would be a short siege. The castle would fall, and, unless Milo did something about it, Aryn would be executed for treason.

. . .

From the window Aryn watched the battle. She couldn’t remember a time before when she’d felt so utterly helpless. The enemy army closed in so fast, tightening its grip, and soon it would crush her in her castle. Even if she gave it her all, fought as hard as she could, she knew she could never defeat this army, not now that they were inside the city in such large numbers.

“I'll defend you,” Shamira said. She patted Aryn on the shoulder. “Don't be afraid, I'll keep you safe.”

“If you stay to defend me you'll only be staying so that you can die with me,” Aryn said, shaking her head. “I don't want that for you.”

“There's no way out now anyway,” Shamira said. “They'll kill me no matter what. I'd rather die fighting…for a friend.”

Aryn gave Shamira a sad smile. “A friend. Yes, let's put aside the pretense that I'm your queen.” Aryn took both of Shamira's hands in her own. “If I was a queen I wouldn't be losing this battle, would I? No, obviously God, or whatever powers are at work in this world, have a different queen in mind for Arx. So let's make our stand together as friends, and just that. Equals.”

Shamira nodded to her and then turned to face the door. They'd barred the door to Aryn's room, but they knew that wouldn't hold the enemy for long. Eventually they would get through, and then Shamira and Aryn would both die. At least they could go down swinging, and they wouldn't die alone.

The door handle turned as someone from the other side attempted to open the door. Aryn flicked her wrist and sent a tiny, sharp diamond through the door, hoping it would cut whoever was on the other side.

“Ouch!” she heard the man on the other side of the door shout. She recognized the voice in an instant.

“Milo?”

“Aryn, open the door!”

Aryn and Shamira both ran over to the door and moved the bar, opening the door wide. Milo scooped up Aryn in his arms and pulled her into a tight hug.

“I thought I'd never see you again!” Aryn said, holding her father tightly.

“Have you come to die with us?” Shamira asked. “We make our final stand here, then.”

“Final stand? No, I'm not here to die with you. I'm here to get you out of here!” Milo said. He set Aryn down and grabbed her hand.

“There's no way out! They have the castle surrounded!”

“There is one secret way out,” Milo said. “Hadar showed your mother the way out years ago, in case the castle was taken during the war with Nihilus. Come on, we've got to get you out of here before Mahla and her soldiers arrive!”