Paradox - Progeny Of Innocence (bk2) (Paradox series) (4 page)

Temulun filled her lungs with the beguiling scent of Mother Nature as they walked in silence, each completely immersed in her own thoughts.

The sound of hooves pounding noisily on cobbled stones rumbled closer from behind a high stone wall, dissolving their concentration. They drew closer to the end of the wall and peered out. A gust of breeze carried another, sharper, pungent scent, overshadowing all that was fresh and crisp. Booming voices, beastly snarls and muffled voices echoed through the stony courtyard.

Hidden behind the stone wall, Temulun and Keyla watched on in horror. From the south they came. A barrage of armored Grigorian guards: some on horseback, some on foot with giant black spectre hounds, almost the size of a horse, hunched and hovering by their sides. A slow-moving throng of prisoners as far as the eye could see moved clumsily along the cobbled path. They were pushed and shoved forward toward covered enclosures where they would later be sorted. Some would become breeders to replenish the dwindling food stocks. Others would become bleeders who would provide a continuous supply of fresh blood. These were the unfortunates: the souls who had fought bravely alongside the Royal Bulguardian Army during the last days of war, and had been captured fleeing the stricken city.

"Move, hurry along," a massive guard boomed as he shoved a young woman with long, matted fair hair with the front of his horse. She fell forward. A man reached out quickly for her arm. "Rose," he gasped, but it was too late. She fell heavily to the ground on her hands and knees. "Abel," she cried out, and reached up frantically for him. Another Grigorian guard on foot smashed his heavy shield into the side of Abel’s face, forcing him backward into the shuffling throng of bodies. The Grigorian guard shouted again. "Move it, I’ve got better things to do with my time than herd you lot all day." A man stripped of his armor and clothed in a torn and bloodied Bulguardian tunic clutched Rose’s arm and pulled her to her feet before he, too, was dragged forward by the throng of prisoners.

Rose scanned the mass of bodies in a frantic effort to find her husband as they jostled her along. "Abel, Abel," she cried out hysterically but no reply came. Only the booming voices of the Grigorian guards filled her ears.

"Move, move, move," the guards shouted in a hoarse chorus as hounds barked, snarled and nipped feverishly at the prisoners' bloodied ankles. Another Bulguardian soldier raised his arm at a Grigorian guard, but was quickly slammed to the ground by a pair of massive paws. The Beast snarled viciously, opened its jaws wide, and with one quick snap, tore the man’s throat out with a row of barbed fangs.

Temulun eyes stung with tears, but she quickly forced them back as she looked on in horror as prisoners were pushed, shoved, and beaten. Some had fallen and were being trampled under hoof. She heard a soft whimpering beside her. She turned to see Keyla’s face awash with tears. "Oh, dear child," Temulun said, fighting back her own tears. She put her arm protectively around Keyla’s shoulders and pulled the child toward her. "Dry your tears quickly; it is not wise to be seen showing sympathy toward these prisoners. There are too many guards, too many prying eyes." She quickly ushered Keyla away from the savage onslaught before them, away from the Grigorian monsters with their massive spectre hounds. Two beasts fought ferociously over the body of the dead Bulguardian. A third came forth, pulling and chewing until little was left.

Temulun pushed a heavy door open toward the furthest end of the high stone wall. It opened into a dark musty room. By the glimmer of sunlight stealing its way inside, they could just make out a disorderly pile of discarded furniture, tapestries, and oil paintings in golden frames. Keyla closed her eyes and held her hand out. Ever so slowly, a small, glowing ball formed, rose above the palm of her hand and spun. It began to spin faster and faster, until eventually it ignited into a ball of fire that hung suspended above their heads. She blew at it softly until six in all illuminated the room. The bright balls of fire revealed three massive gold chairs among the pile at the rear of the room.

Temulun gasped. "The three missing thrones from the throne room," she said, dragging a long roll of carpet entwined in spider webs off the thrones and onto the floor. It hit the ground with a heavy thud, sending a deluge of dust motes into the air. She ran her fingers down the gold and velvet armrests. "I have only ever heard stories. They truly are beautiful, aren’t they, even in this state? Just think... the Royal Guardians have sat upon these thrones." She pulled matted cobwebs from her fingers. "There used to be twelve of these, you know. But every time a Guardian has been killed since the beginning of time, they burn the throne with the Guardian seated upon it, so the fire can take the body back to the Gods. Back to the time before time." Temulun paused for a moment. "One of these thrones shouldn’t be here. A Royal Guard was killed on the night of the equinox. It is said that his body was thrown out in the streets to burn." She shook her head mournfully. "Cerberus now sits upon the fourth throne in the Great Hall."

Keyla said nothing. She walked over to the stone wall, easing herself down its rough surface and onto the cold, dusty floor. She hugged her knees tight up against her chest.

Temulun walked toward her. "What is it, child?" she asked, sitting down beside her. "My story, it saddens you?"

"I saw everything they saw, everything they felt," she said, pushing her face into her hands. "How could they do that, treat those prisoners like worthless animals?"

"To the Grigorians, those prisoners are animals. Nothing more than a meal to fill their bellies... That is their way. For some, that is all they desire, all they have ever known. It is an empowering delicacy, the forbidden fruit." Temulun held Keyla’s hand. "Now tell me, child, what exactly did you see?"

"I saw it all. In their eyes, on their faces. The night of the fall… So much death, so many souls lost." She took a long breath, labored with heart-wrenching sobs, and continued. "They fought gallantly, but the Grigorian monsters, with all their cunning, outnumbered the innocent, and the Bulguardian Army. Soon the Royal Palace fell, and it fell right into the hands of Lord Cerberus and his men. Within hours the Imperial City was engulfed by a barrage of hungry flames. There was nothing left for the Bulguardian Army to do but to save as many as they could and flee the city and head south."

"And your family?" Temulun asked softly. "What became of them?"

Keyla shook her head. "I do not know," was all she said.

"What happened then, what else did you see?"

Keyla remained silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Recollecting what she had seen in the desperate eyes of the prisoners as they were beaten and herded into holding pens, like cattle.

"The Pinnacles," she said. "The four Wafes went first. Four host souls volunteered. Two females and two males. They left their bodies, and without the souls, the bodies just lay down and died right there on the floor. Just four shimmering souls floating in the air like four rainbow-colored bubbles." She shook her head. "I have never seen anything so beautiful. Not even the crystal dome of the sanctuary was as beautiful." She looked up at Temulun, her eyes wide and damp. "Without the body, the soul is so, so..." Keyla searched for a word, but found none to express the enormity of the beauty for which she held in her mind. Her eyes pooled with fresh tears and spilled over. With the tears of a thousand souls streaming down her face, she continued. "Water and Air fell first, and were born into human females. Fire and Earth went into human boys."

Temulun bowed her head and whispered. "I overheard Abaddon speaking with his sister, Theria, just yesterday," she began. "On earth, nine hundred years have passed."

Keyla looked up at her. "That is a very long time to be away from home."

"Oh my Gods," Temulun said, scrambling quickly to her feet and pulling Keyla up with her. "The time, we must hurry. We have yet to fetch Lord Cerberus his beast. Abaddon will be furious if we keep the Lord waiting. We will talk more of this tonight at the Oak. But first," she said, pulling a small leather pouch from her pocket. "Put this powdered mistletoe under your tongue. It would be too dangerous to carry these thoughts in your head for fear of others overhearing." Temulun pushed the leather pouch into Keyla’s hand. The girl looked at her and frowned.

"Not to worry, Keyla, I have a little left. And tonight, we will go ask the Forest People for more."

Keyla took the leather pouch, extracted a pinch of the powdered herb, and placed it under her tongue. She wrinkled her nose at the pungent taste. "Are the Forest People expecting me?" she asked.

"Oh yes," Temulun replied, "they are very eager to meet you. Witness the abilities you still possess from your ancestors."

"Then I hope I do not fail them," Keyla replied.

* * *

"Brother?" Abaddon said, pacing the floor, raising his arms in question.

Cerberus shook his head wearily. "Abaddon, I have fought a war alongside my men for countless days now, I am more than capable of bathing myself. Although I do understand your hesitation in believing so, considering my present state. I smell of piss and the excrement of a thousand horses, to say the least." He placed his hand heavily on Abaddon’s shoulder to still his pacing. "But I thank you, my brother, you have served me well, taking care of the Realm and my good lady wife during my long absence. I only hope she has not burdened you too much with her girlish ways." He spoke affectionately of his wife as he pictured Pandora in his mind. She would be swathed in ancient silks, velvets, perfumes, and gems, eagerly awaiting his return, he imagined. He only hoped she had not been made too forlorn by his departure from the Realm.

Abaddon raised his eyes and restrained the urge to divulge. Even though it would have pleased him no end to inform his brother that his precious wife was, in fact, no more than a common street whore. That Cerberus had been fooled by the mask of beauty that Pandora wore effortlessly. That and her intoxicating spellbinding scent that tempted and teased. The mighty Lord Cerberus deceived by a woman, and a human woman at that. How his father, Lord Grig, had failed to see such an obvious weakness in Cerberus was beyond Abaddon’s comprehension. But better Cerberus than a bastard son of his father's, he conceded. He raised his hands and clapped them sharply together, twice this time, summoning a doorman. The heavyset guard appeared immediately, his long braided whiskers dangling beneath his chin.

"My Lord," he said, bowing his head respectfully to Cerberus. Then to Abaddon he said, "Master, how may I serve?"

"You will locate the Lady Pandora and inform her that her husband Lord Cerberus demands her attendance in his chambers." Then he looked directly into the man's almond eyes, and without the need for spoken word he said, ‘
You will not pay heed to whom the Lady Pandora lies beneath, but merely inform her that her lord husband is here. Do you understand what I am asking of you?
’

The man lowered his eyes and bowed. "Yes master," and then to Cerberus, with a deeper bow he said, "my Lord," and was gone.

"You are a fine brother, Abaddon, our father would be proud. It is a shame that Father is with us no longer. His talents as a warrior have been missed on the battlefield. Father was certainly the master of war when it came to fighting the great sand dragons to the south. We have lost many fine men to the dragons crossing the red sands to the mountains. And then of course, there were the eagles."

"Yes, Father was a great warrior, he is sadly missed," Abaddon muttered.

Cerberus frowned and looked at his brother, noting his discomfort with the conversation about their father, Lord Grig. "But enough of this talk; walk with me. Tell me everything. I fear I have missed much since my hasty departure south to fight this war," Cerberus said, wrapping his arm around his younger sibling’s shoulders. They climbed the sweeping staircase and started down the long corridor toward Cerberus’s private chambers. "I have interrupted your plans, I suspect, with my unexpected return. You were preparing to leave the Realm, were you not, when I entered?"

"For a brief time, yes," Abaddon replied. "Food stocks have become quite low, as you know. And I do have my preferences. Unlike you, the four-legged beasts do not satisfy my taste."

"Then you will be pleased to know that my men have secured a thousand head to replenish our stock. Half at least are young females, and will make excellent breeders."

Abaddon nodded appraisingly. "In the meantime, a quick trip will not harm."

"Where will you go, my brother?" Cerberus asked with interest.

"Australia," he said without hesitation. "Theria appears to be enjoying the people there very much."

"Theria," Cerberus said fondly. "How is the little one? The last time I spoke with our sister she was journeying to a nunnery in Germany. She believed she was close to sourcing the whereabouts of a Pinnacle."

"Not so little anymore, my brother, she has allowed herself to age."

Cerberus laughed. "Surely you jest. In a world full of humans she abstains? The girl will never cease to amaze me." He shook his head. "As long as she is well, what more could a brother want for a sister?" He stopped and took Abaddon by the shoulders. "You, my little brother, are in need of clean garments before your departure," Cerberus chuckled as he indicated the blood splatters drying on Abaddon’s white shirt. "As am I," he continued, running a hand down his battle-stained chest and bloodied leather thighs.