The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix (83 page)

Just before the seventh evening hour, Trisha
joined the company, several other distinguished guests including
Mihai and Anna arriving just before her. Everyone stood and
applauded to welcome Mihai. Crimson-faced with embarrassment from
what she considered uncalled for attention, Mihai never the less
graciously thanked them for their kindness. She then requested they
all sit, stating that she was but a guest in another’s house this
night. Pointing at Trisha, who had just entered, she declared their
host should receive all the accolades.

Again, everyone stood and offered Trisha the
same salutation as Mihai received. Trisha also was embarrassed by
the fanfare, encouraging everyone to sit. Stepping into the middle
of the room, she thanked everyone for coming, adding that dinner
was now to be served. After some informal introductions, Trisha
invited them to stay for dessert to get better acquainted or
reacquainted. She then stepped out of the center of the room and
into the shadows.

In only moments, the room was filled with
the noisy bustle of fiery waiters delivering the first course. A
fine dinner it was too, green salads, smoked salmon over wild rice,
sweet breads, cheeses, steamed and raw vegetables, along with a
variety of fresh fruits. Trays brimming with mouthwatering delights
lined the middle of every table so that all the people had to do
was reach and take whatever they wished. As soon as a platter
became empty, a new one would take its place. Everyone ate to
satisfaction, but few to the point of fullness, for there were
those many desserts yet to enjoy.

Attendants were busy at Chesse’s table when
Trisha appeared. She offered her greetings then sat down at its
head, beside Chesse. Such a charming host, she offered little time
for the surprised woman to react, beginning a lively conversation
with the four people seated in close proximity to her. In time,
there was pleasant merrymaking, the telling of some fanciful
stories, an occasional riddle and, of course, discussion regarding
the Prisoner Exchange.

Chesse discovered that Braiden was a major
in the regulars - the permanent branch of the military that
remained enlisted after the Great War ended. He was a kindly
person, smart, and also full of opinions that he was more than
willing to express. Still, he only thought of them as opinions,
once saying, “There are two types of people in this world: those
with opinions and those who are always right. I hope to only have
opinions.”

The dinner hour was truly enjoyable for
Chesse. Trisha made sure her guests were entertained and well fed.
A little after eight of the evening hour, Mihai was invited to
speak, keeping her remarks brief, recognizing that she stood
between her audience and dessert. Tables and chairs were quickly
removed, dessert and drink carts delivered, and the orchestra set
to play. Trisha then asked Chesse if she would care to share with
her in a glass of wine, which Chesse graciously accepted.

As the two women stood listening to the
music, Zadar approached them, begging his leave. After kissing them
both and hugging Trisha, he warned that his duties might take him
away for the night. Trisha kissed Zadar with longing, asking for
his swift return. Off he was in a rush, waving his goodbyes.

No sooner was he departed than Crilen
stopped to say his goodnights. He introduced them to his companion.
“Perhaps you know Ilanit, attendant to the council, Lady Anna’s
attaché?”

Chesse knew of Ilanit, but the two had never
met. Trisha did not, so took the time for a little banter. After a
few minutes, Crilen and Ilanit were off on further adventures of
their making. Trisha turned to Chesse, recommending they also go.
“I have need for a moot with you this night, someplace a little
more private. Will you come?”

Chesse did not like the sound of things. She
knew Trisha’s invitation came with strings, but didn’t realize how
many until arriving at the banquet hall. There was something up
with the field marshal, but what? Curiosity gnawed at her, and the
only way she was going to satisfy that beast was to go with Trisha.
She also had no desire to offend such a gracious host. An
invitation like this should be accepted if at all possible. She had
no excuse. Honoring Trisha’s request, the two women quickly left
the gathering.

To Chesse’s surprise, there was a carriage
awaiting them outside. In twenty minutes, they were entering the
lower stairway to the South Palace Wall Tower. Although it was
nearly the ninth evening hour, the sun had only recently set behind
the western hills. A soft, southerly breeze greeted them as they
exited the lower tower ramparts. Such a beautiful evening, Trisha
could not help but suck in the intoxicating air as she gazed out
across the southern city in the early evening light.

The two women leaned upon the tower wall’s
outer bulwark, soaking up the day’s warm afterglow delivered upon
the breeze. They silently looked out upon the southern suburbs
outside the city proper, the spaceport with its complexes of
warehouses, depots, and hangars stretching out beyond them in the
gathering dusk. This was a favorite place for Chesse to come after
a long day of making deliveries. She would stare off into the
southlands, reminiscing over her world of long ago.

Chesse finally broke the silence. “So much
of this world has changed since the Rebellion. For countless ages,
a thick forest of evergreen and hardwoods spread far across that
plain. In time, a sprinkle of farms came to dot the landscape, but
for the most part it remained a wild land less than a day’s journey
from this tower. Well I remember the sweet romance made under the
giant oaks and the midnight swims taken in the light of a haunting
summer moon.”

She released a long, sad sigh, lamenting,
“It’s all gone now, the trees cut down to clear the land for new
construction, the rivers and lakes buried under tons of bitumen and
concrete used to built the spaceport and surrounding communities.
The last of the distant farmsteads was swallowed up at the
beginning of the Great War. All gone, like so many other dreams of
yesterday… gone.”

Her shoulders slumped as she looked into
Trisha’s face. “Your invitation was not to have me reminisce over
the past. Whatever your motive for bringing me here, I believe is
in vain. I’m used up, beaten and broken, wondering sometimes if I
even care what the future brings. My world has long dissolved into
memories. I was a Maiden of Light, failing my people while
innocence still ruled this world. I raised the sword of war in
hopes of gaining absolution, only to see those I led slaughtered
before my eyes.

Casting her gaze toward the flagstones, she
mourned, “From the First Megiddo War down through the Great War, I
have watched the butchery of my brothers - good and evil, once my
companions and lovers - shared in it, commanded it. Blood runs
heavy from my hands. I murdered them all, seeking to purchase my
own redemption, something I did not deserve, do not. I forsook the
glory of Lagandow for a bed of hemlock down and senseless
passion.”

Trisha rested her hands upon the battlement,
searching into the gathering darkness to see through Chesse’s mind
the world of her day. She finally broke her silence. “Out there,
beyond your world, lies mine… or so I have been told. Thousand-year
old dunes sweep over what used to be the city of my birth,
QaShaibJal.”

Chesse jerked her head about in surprise.
“QaShaibJal?!”

Trisha smiled sadly, looking back into
Chesse’s surprised face. “Yes, the people of this world call me by
the name of my forgotten city - a name they chose for me. And
Trisha
? I’m sure that by now you have been told that it’s
little more than an acronym for foreboding prophecy.” Trisha looked
back toward the southern horizon, sighing. “That is so. I’m known
only as the proverbial saying from a forgotten place. That’s me,
TrishaQaShaibJal, too unimportant a soul to ever be asked my real
name, and such a beautiful name it is.”

Chesse began to apologize. Trisha stopped
her, waving a hand. “Time has long passed for pious mollification,
the sanctimonious penchant of your kind to nobly overlook the
feelings of others through sympathetic apology, and then eulogize
with mournful prose the lofty reasons necessitating such
ignorance.”

Chesse stood there, mouth agape, insult
apparent on her face.

Trisha looked away to the south, speaking in
little above a whisper. “My name is ‘ElaiaKallos’, ‘the beautiful
olive tree’, or at least that was the definition given it by
Asotos. My mother gifted me with the name, she calling me ‘her
little olive slip’, a treasured gift of love’s embrace.”

Standing back, clasping her hands behind
her, she turned and addressed Chesse. “My home... My home? My home,
QaShaibJal, is a lost and forgotten place, it and my mother
existing only within the vaulted halls of my memories. I, alone,
retain any knowledge of it. In that place, I grew up and into
womanhood, married, bore eight children and buried three, grew old,
was disgraced and abandoned and finally died. All in some place
that matters not a pea-whit to any of the
holy angels
from
this world. Why should I care about winning this coming war, saving
your race, your past when my past has ever been devoured by
Destiny’s fickle hour? What is the value of my sacrifice?”

Eyeing Chesse, Trisha queried, “Chess?
Chesse? A name from a child’s poem, if I recall. Silly little name,
isn’t it? An easy name to hide behind when one seeks to run from
reality, isn’t that so? Well, no longer will I assist you with that
foolish illusion, Chasileah, Queen of the mountain goats, mother
goddess of Orleans.”

Shaking a finger in Chasileah’s face, the
field marshal cut across the woman’s soul with her sharp criticism.
“Oh yes, I have perused your history this day. You have not been a
quiet lady, setting the world of men aflame on many occasions!
Gabrielle has little on you other than her saintliness is clouded
in mist and uncertainty. The Haudenosaunez speak your name with
reverence, you saving their souls from destruction many times.”
Chasileah was aghast, never expecting such verbal excoriation, but
she was given no time to speak.

“
Susquehanna!”
Trisha lifted a hand
in emphasis. “That is the way your name is pronounced in the world
of men down to this day. Susquehanna – Chasileah - ‘the deliverer
of rescue, preserver of souls’. It is true, many are the souls you
have rescued from certain death - souls that have gone on to change
the worlds of men and gods, some for good and some for ill, but in
the end those souls have delivered us up to this day.”

She turned to again look out from the tower
wall, still addressing her words to Chasileah. “No more baby names
for me to call you. Chasileah it is and Chasileah it will be. It
fits you. Learn to live with it...”

Chasileah’s temper was up, it reflected in
her polite but curt response. “Commander TrishaQaShaibJal, the
academy of historical institution provides wind for the sails of
mindless orators seeking an audience with the clouds.” She pointed
at herself. “I assure you that this
cloud
has provided
little comfort for the parched tongue.”

Assailing the night breeze with bitter
reproach, Chasileah continued her courteous rebuff. “Should you
have noted the rocks beneath the surface, seeing deeply into
matters, you would have visited your mind upon a wretched creature,
to be sure. I do not hide behind a childish name to forget, but to
remember
- remember the only
innocence
I can recall
from my miserable life. A
harlot
I am, having sold the souls
of my kindred in Hell’s fires for an unattainable redemption, a bed
of thorns being too great a gift for my atrocious
fornications!”

Her voice grew desperate as indignation
welled up in her breast. “Oh, how wonderful your rhetoric and
charming your prose. ‘Susquehanna, the great rescuer,
Mother-goddess of Orleans!’ What
fool
told you that? I’ve
rescued no one. No one! Even that child I did not give rest to, but
allowed her to burn for a cause of my choosing. Damn my soul
instead! The very granddaughter of my Juliet, I denied succor.
Please do not speak of valor regarding my evil name.”

Trisha did not falter in her reply. “The
tune of self-pity plays well upon a wanton heart. I shall speak as
I please, and
you
will listen! Do you truly believe that
witch, Juliet, could not have gathered the LukosAner – werewolves -
and their kindred to deliver the child? Why, I believe that the
power of the gorgon princess alone could have ripped apart Rouen’s
walls, her very breath able to extinguish Jehanne’s tormenting
flames.”

She looked down in silent contemplation
before staring up into Chasileah’s astonished face. “I do know also
that in her dying moments, the child saw the victory her death
delivered upon Satan’s world. Her murder by fire broke the arm of
the northern king, while breathing renewed life back into the ruler
of the south. Held the winds were for another time and season
because of her sacrifice.”

Trisha smiled. “You rescued that child into
another glory that is of much greater worth than the life she
surrendered so many days ago. Yet, that was not your only rescue
that changed the world of men, and secured the future down to this
day. You delivered Beowulf from the dungeons of Rome so that he
made his escape into the Lands of Ice, he raising an army of Norse
who crushed the ever-growing power of mouth of Hormax, again
slowing the coming day.” She poked Chasileah’s chest as she stepped
forward. “The child holds only praise for you and all that you did
for her.”

Chasileah exclaimed, “What fool…”

“What
fool
told me this?” Trisha
grinned. “Did you hear that the Witches of KordianHasur stood my
side at the Prisoner Exchange?”