Relias: Uprising (9 page)

 Alighieri shrugged. “Because they know now that we are more than capable of killing them.”

 Luke took a deep breath and replied. “The point that I’m trying to make here is that they aren’t afraid of you. Not in the least. Wanna know why?”

 Alighieri folded his arms and shrugged with an expression of frustration. “Why is that?”

 “The consequences.” Luke said. “The consequences of crossing the Darks isn’t great enough. Until they know how sick and twisted their fate might otherwise be, they will continue to hunt and kill Darks without mercy. Give me the Ditrinity, Sam. I’ll give them a reason to fear us.”

 “Luke!” Alighieri exclaimed. “What part are you missing! Dropping you in like that into the middle of tens of thousands of Legionnaire warriors would be suicide.”

 “Suicide?” Luke asked with surprise. “You’ve seen what we can do. You used to be one of us.”

 “Those days ended a long time ago.” Alighieri said with his tone becoming more aggressive. “I’m a commander now. A post which you assigned me to, I might add. And as a commander I have to decide what is best for us, not what falls in place with your wants and desires.”

 Luke didn’t respond. He just looked Alighieri in the eyes and walked away. Alighieri wasn’t done yet.

 “I made it a top priority to come and get you, Luke. I made sure that we had our best guys and one of our best pilots drop into what was one of the most dangerous portions of the city to pick you up. You have no idea how badly we need warriors right now. Especially ones with backgrounds like yours.”

 At the door, Luke thought. He turned. “Your men won’t follow me, Sam.”

 “Then I’ll put you into a position where you don’t have men. Where you fight alongside everybody else like a normal soldier. That way it wouldn’t even matter if-“

 “I’d break off by myself anyway, Sam. You know that. So what difference would it make if I just took the Ditrinity, the people who’ve been fighting at my side since before the formation of the Union, and go and make tearing apart soldiers our mission?”

 “You would be taking away some of our best soldiers.” Alighieri replied. “You’re not taking them. That’s how that works.”

 Luke gave a defiant grin. “Let’s see what they say when I ask them what they’d rather do.”

 Alighieri’s lip twitched and he went after Luke fuming. The door was open and Luke was about to step through when Alighieri slammed it shut.

 “This isn’t your war anymore! This isn’t some charade we’re trying to put on so we don’t go out like a gang of pussies we’re
actually
trying to win a war! Get over yourself! You’re not the only person here who’s had problems, Luke, and we’re all fighting just as hard and just as ragged as you to try and dethrone Lynch and destroy the Commune!”

 “No you aren’t!” Luke yelled back as he got into Alighieri’s face. “These people know
nothing
about fighting for the right reasons! They worship people like Thompson and Ranjak and it didn’t take long to figure out that those two wouldn’t give a damn if they could about what it is we were fighting for in the first place!”

 Alighieri paused. The noise from the yelling died down and he waited, staring at Luke.

 “You knew what that was once. You were the one on the front line, at the head of the army every time, ready to die for an idea. Ready to die for Relias. You learned to push your pride away, your personal vendettas and lead the Darks against Lynch. Whatever happened in that prison, it looks like you’ve forgotten all about that.”

 It was Luke’s turn to fume. Alighieri tried to squeeze past him. Luke put a hand in front of him and stopped him.

 “You were too scared to pick a sword up even when you
were
on the front lines. I had to keep
you
from running away scared at Olsgrad when you were in a camouflaged pill box and I had the guns of the entire Legionnaire army aimed at me. Don’t lecture me on loyalty.”

 This time Alighieri was unable to return Luke’s glare. He simply waited for Luke to drop his arm and he left the room. Luke watched between the blinds as Alighieri took short, dragging steps down the hall with his hands in his pockets. Luke pounded the door with his fist and turned back to the mirror.

 He could sense it. The Ditrinity was gone. And for a brief moment, drowned in the silence and standing in the middle of the room, Luke felt as though he were back in dark, musty corners of his ten by ten prison cell.

Chapter 5

 The next few weeks were calm even by peacetime’s standards, with the exception being of Luke’s surgery, which went as smoothly as getting oneself sliced open can be.  What few healers they had refused to repair the wound. Ready to let the surgery heal up naturally they were approached by a talented young, strangely familiar Durant girl who offered to take the job of healing Luke. He just wanted it done, but the girl did a better job of closing him up than any healer he’d ever had work on him before and she did it in record time and without prompting the body to generate any scar tissue.

 That was one aspect of healing that proved to be difficult to any healer and most couldn’t overcome it. The healing process most often left small scars but also reduced the recovery period to almost nothing. This girl had cut what little recovery time there would have been in half. But following the surgery Luke kept himself on a strict diet, eating four to five thousand healthy calories a day while working in an increasingly intensive workout routine. Most often he’d go alone, in the middle of the night where nobody could bother him. Other times, one or several of the Ditrinity would go along with him, letting their strict workout routines coincide with Luke’s. But as time passed and Luke became stronger, larger, gaining back most of the mass he’d lost in prison, he saw the Ditrinity less and less, preferring more to keep to himself and his thoughts.

 It was a peaceful time. But speaking with regards to Luke’s social situation it was a veritable battlefield. It hadn’t taken long for word to spread about Luke’s presence and many people made their discomfort clear. Complaints were filed to the Dark government. Accusations both true and falsified, were thrown around with the intents of having Luke thrown from their settlement.

 Luke didn’t bother talking with them. It was a waste of time. He had made attempts on several occasions to help with different odd-jobs: repairing and replacing turret emplacements, reinforcing the gates along the outer walls, setting up perimeter defenses.  Those who had already busied themselves with those tasks were more than happy to accept his help. The minute they found out who he was, whether through word of mouth or seeing the characteristic marks on Luke’s body, their behavior made a polar shift he was thrown from their company.

 It wasn’t something that he particularly minded. Luke felt much more comfortable walking around the city alone, thinking. It was one of the things that kept him sane. For the majority of his life Luke had used thought to crawl back into himself, to think about the things that mattered most. There was a point when Luke was lucky enough to have hopes and dreams to think about, those thoughts giving him a happiness which he seldom enjoyed. Those times were past, though, and Luke had gotten used to it.

 Praemon was a city that Luke had never before visited. Through his travels Luke had seen his fair share of the world. Some of the visits had been peaceful, though most had been with an objective, that objective more often than not including but not limiting itself to busting a few skulls and slitting a few throats. And the cities that Luke would have to visit were typically rotten ones; dark, grimy, rodent ridden metropolises long past their prime where sin and vice walked hand in hand with nearly every degenerate citizen of the city.  But Praemon was not that kind of city. The architecture was elegant, pure, the sun vivified the ivory colored stone that had as much of a dominating presence in the city as the people who lived there. The style of architecture was graceful, soft; colossal pillars, spanning arches, and extravagant fountains were extremely commonplace. People socialized and strolled through the countless town squares around the city; lush, lively clearings where nothing but content and satisfaction could be felt or heard. Meandering lazily through the city was a canal gurgling with cerulean water through which small boats floated peacefully, propelled by long oars while those who moved them along would whistle pleasantly to themselves, sometimes with passengers in tow. The citizenry was happy, polite, laid-back; hardly the characteristics that one would expect from a population plunked down into the center of a growing war.

 The people didn’t seem to mind that their city was occupied by enemies of the Commune. In many instances they seemed to welcome it. Dark soldiers, dressed in heavy leather armor and wielding body length particle cannons would be invited into homes for dinner, welcomed across the thresholds by smiling faces and open arms. During the daytime the winding cobblestone streets bustled with the content routines of Praemon citizens while in the night the city would go quiet. Its cedar shutters would close, candles would be lit and the silent night would be punctuated by the chirping of crickets and the occasional slow, relaxing hum of a soft singing viola.

 Praemon’s population hadn’t the slightest idea who Luke Semprys was; much thanks to the censorship of the Commune. Once he wandered outside the areas most densely populated by Darks it was as if he weren’t part of a war at all and, to his surprise, he enjoyed it. And because of his withdrawn nature the citizens would invite Luke into their homes with more-than-usual exuberance, doing their best to make Luke feel welcome and wanted. Most often Luke would decline, seeing their invitations as nothing more than attempts on their part to maintain faux appearances of cordiality and warmth. Other times Luke would feel more comfortable avoiding the company in favor of solitude and the pleasance of his own company. Every once in a while, though, Luke would accept the invitation, talk with the family, get to know them, and go on his way with a full stomach and the occasional smile.

 But every night Luke would return home, the empty penthouse that once belonged to Count Dietrik, to find a broad assortment of letters and notes on, under and around the door, most of them letters of disapproval, disgust, while some asked for his immediate and quiet departure. Those ones weren’t hard to spot: hastily scribed addresses, unusually dark inscription and an inexplicable air of animosity that seemed to fumigate off of them.

 Luke had become used to his new surroundings and had made himself at home. Works of expensive and elegant art- statues, rugs, and extravagant tapestries- concealed a good portion of the walls and floors. But the room where Luke slept, the master bedroom with the mammoth bed that was three times as wide as Luke was tall, was no longer of lavish décor. Outside the room was a chaotic mountain of paintings, broken vases, candelabras and a myriad of other objects that Luke had ripped down and thrown out. The room was bare now, save for the bed, armoires, and chests placed around the room. The only thing in the room that qualified as decoration was the small, faded picture of a young girl placed in a cracked frame. Whenever Luke lay in bed, whether he was thinking or going to sleep, he’d always look at the picture and feel at least a small bit of comfort.

 It was unbelievable that Tess was as old as she was: eighteen now. When Luke had last seen her she was only twelve; barely twelve, in fact, barely beginning to mature. Now she was a woman and Luke still had trouble coming to grips with it. It was one of those things that depressed him and gave him joy at the same time. It was debilitating to think about all the time that he had lost with his only remaining family, but is was renewing to see her as old as she was. It was something Luke never thought he’d see. She was one of the few things that gave Luke a sense of warmth. 

 It was a night like any other. Keeping to himself as he most often did, Luke wandered the tranquil streets of Praemon. Most shutters had been closed while some remained open with wax-dripped candles flickering in the clear night. Vines twisted up sides of buildings and around the rain-gutters, rose-laden window-sills and cast iron fences on the windows and balconies. There was the occasional porch light lit up outside the dark wooden doors that cast soft light on the creamy stone walk.

 Luke stood on the top of a hill standing next to a sidewalk cafe in the middle of the cobblestone street. The hill sloped sharply downward and twisted into the town below. The twin planets Eygus and Altigo rose over the horizon while Havok’s sister moon illuminated the darkened areas of the city in white and night blue. The canal twisted down its center like a massive ‘S’, its surface mirroring the dark starry sky. He breathed in the cool mountain air. It was fresh, and carried the light aroma of oven-baked bread from a nearby home.

 “Everybody’s been wondering what you’ve been up to.” Came a brusque voice at Luke’s back. He turned around and saw a man with short white hair and flaming orange eyes with a black leather trench coat that flowed behind him. Luke nodded curtly and turned back towards the horizon.

 “You not having any trouble with this full moon, Pontious?” Luke asked quietly. Pontious walked to Luke’s side and stood on the crest of the hill.

 “Not any more. I’m done with that.” He replied. His wild eyes reflected the full moon as he stared off into it. Pontious looked over to Luke with part of his attention still on the sky. “They want us to move out.” Pontious said. “Command. They’ve given each of us a squad of men, except for Vyvyr and Trey. Vyvyr got a platoon and Trey got a whole fekkin’ company.”

 Luke nodded and didn’t say anything. Pontious went on. “They’re getting ready for something big. Sam plans on fortifying Styne. He’s sure that the Legionnaire’s going to try and take that back.” Pontious paused but ground his teeth in thought. “But that’s not the big thing they’re getting ready for. I know it isn’t.”

 “What about Tess?” Luke asked slowly, sounding almost as though he could care less if Pontious answered or not.