The Gift of Volkeye (15 page)

1

A
fter trudging through the garden for what seemed an eternity, Phyllamon had finally made his way back to the castle. He shoved open the doors and collapsed. Murlach and Felix were soon at his side.

“Must get them…tonight…they will paaaaay!” he said.

Blood streamed from Phyllamon’s nose. Much like Felix’s, it had been completely crushed, as were his lips, gums, and top and bottom front teeth. Also, his head was bleeding badly, because the tip was missing. The two strands of white hair that no one but he could see had now been scalped. As blood ran down his head in thick streams, Phyllamon forced himself to remain conscious.

Murlach leaned over him. He was hesitant, having no idea how to break the news. “Uh…”

“Out with it!” Phyllamon snapped, spraying blood spittle everywhere.

Murlach, being flustered and irrational, relayed the information in as tactless a manner as possible.

“Your wife is bleeding to death, Sire. Sing slashed her throat, then diced two guards with the same large dagger and blew the head off another…that’s why the hall is such a mess, your Highness. I’m afraid we were not well equipped to deal with a servant of…
samurai
skill level! Perhaps if we were more informed of her abilities, she wouldn’t have gotten away…”

Phyllamon’s eyes widened.

“…Um, er…though Helena was on her last breath when I saw her, I remain quite hopeful, as she wasn’t quite dead…yet. We can always hope for a miracle. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go pray,” Murlach said nervously, knowing damn well that he didn’t believe in God.

However, he forgot one small detail and turned around.

“We haven’t yet dispatched a search party for Sing. Things being what they are at the moment, I deemed it not too high a priority…the girl will surely die on her own anyway,” he lied. Murlach knew that anyone capable of such an escape was a survivor. He began to back away, lest he’d be throttled.

Phyllamon growled, his brow arching at both ends. He climbed from the floor and grabbed Murlach by the collar, pulling him so close that their faces were touching and his broken nose ached. Blood splattered on Murlach’s face as he spoke.

“It’s obvious that she’s headed to Rhameeryla, you fool! Or have you learned nothing from recent events? Bring me more soldiers and some morphine for my pain. We leave once my nose has been set!”

Phyllamon limped down the corridor, turned right at the stairs and headed to the infirmary. Felix, Murlach, and the remaining soldiers watched Phyllamon leave a trail of blood on the floor.

Murlach turned to Felix. “You’d better go rest up, boy…you’re not well yourself, are you?”

Felix nodded and left.

Embarrassed and irritated at Phyllamon’s rebuff, Murlach glanced at the others.

“Well, what are you idiots waiting for? Round up some servants and clean the blasted hallway!” He clapped his hands, as if to say “
NOW!”

2

Felix slowly wandered down the hallway, rethinking the incidents of the day.

Bahzee, you little whore, you’ll be sorry you didn’t give up those panties like a good little girl today! The nerve of you…no woman refuses Felix or Phyllamon Xyecah! And to make matters worse, you actually hit me…not once…not twice…but over and over again! You broke the rules, my sweet little whore, and now you must pay the price! My father is bringing all of hell’s fury with him to your town!

On the way to his chamber, Felix stroked his neck, feeling the bruise marks Bahzee gave while choking him. Then he came to a dead stop, recalling something that was totally absurd. He dwelt on it a mere second before dismissing the idea, as he had been hit far too many times to be remotely coherent at that particular moment.

Upon entering his bedroom, Felix shook his head at his ridiculous imagination. For a brief moment he could have sworn that he recalled Bahzee throttling him, midair!

1

Rue, a sixty-year-old woman, hastily loaded explosive laser shells into her blaster. Having been trained by Asha, she was able to control such an intimidating weapon, even at her age. There were straps, which wrapped around her middle, and a shoulder pad that clipped near the end of her collarbone. Also, the weapon employed clever hydraulics that enabled the gun to support itself and defy gravity, making it light as a feather. (This latter invention was something that Asha designed with her late husband.) The body of the gun covered Rue’s entire arm, while a handle bar with a rubber grip and trigger rested within.

Rue was prepared. However, she prayed that she wouldn’t have to use her weapon, as did all of her neighbours. However, everyone armed his or herself nonetheless.

Those with the means to leave already had, as some of them owned small hovercrafts, bikes, or ships they’d acquired by chance. Families with transportation used all their available room to fit children of stranded parents, as they didn’t feel comfortable leaving any behind.

By now, many had fled the village. Those remaining hoped that Bahzee was wrong with assuming that Phyllamon was coming for them. Some of the villagers had been praying all day: many asking for God to deliver them to safety if it did come down to a battle; and others praying that Zynathian would arrive long before that could even happen. If only Zynathian had finished those tunnels he went on and on about…or the evacuation vehicles! All of these were still imaginings in the back of his mind, which he’d had no time to get to yet!

In fact, the only safety measure he had developed for the villagers, so far, was a tiny homing device that he injected into their bodies. If there was ever an emergency and they were forced to leave for some reason, this was his means of finding them and coming to their aid. So there was the
locator
, but that was all. Zynathian had neglected the fact that this device wouldn’t do him any good if his people died before he got the chance to find them! He pushed such thoughts from his mind, assuming Rhameeryla to be a place they could reside for a very long time. His optimism about the unwavering secrecy of Rhameeryla would soon prove to be a most foolish error.

The last of the villagers had finished loading their weapons. Most of them were now packing light sacks of clothes, food, and water just in case they were forced to make a run for it. Dozens of those remaining now sat outdoors, waiting and conversing about the day’s events.

“Did any of you hear the shots earlier?”

“Yeah, but I ain’t think nothing of it…I just thought somebody was out training with a new gun.”

“Apparently, Asha tried to kill Felix!”

“Problem is, she ain’t hit nothin’! If you’re gonna’ put all our lives in jeopardy, make sure it’s bloody worth it!”

“She at least coulda’ killed the bastard!”

“Oh, c’mon, people…it’s not like Asha was trying to miss! You all know what a good shot she is! It must have all happened really fast!”

“I ain’t blaming her for nothing. It just woulda’ been nice if she’d at least nicked the bastard! That coulda’ been one less for us to worry about at a later date!”

“
Woulda’
,
coulda’
,
shoulda’
… Hell, the past don’t matter anymore. What
does
matter is the fact that Phyllamon is on his way here!”

“I tell you what, I been dyin’ to get me a piece of that Phyllamon for the longest. I, for one, hope he shows! I’ll take my guns and shove ‘em somewhere uncomfortable for ‘em,” babbled Rufus, a crippled man in his mid-seventies. He was the only one of their group that wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of a fight (his neighbours often joked that it was his age getting in the way of his good sense).

Rufus floated back and forth in his hoverchair, playfully tapping the triggers of his weaponry. They were attached to directional control sticks welded to the arms of his chair. If he were to hold down the triggers for more than a couple seconds, small cannons would emerge from steel caps at the base on each side, and laser-firing rotary pistols would unveil themselves from underneath the chair’s arms.

Rufus looked around at the faces of the others, all much younger than he. In fact, the one with the fewest years couldn’t have been more than ten. Nicolas was the only child left behind, for the boy wouldn’t be parted from his mother,
Rosa Lee. Nick held his handgun so delicately, it was clear he’d already mastered its use. Asha had instructed the villagers well. If it came down to a fight, they wouldn’t easily be thrown aside.

“I agree, Rufus. Things need to be set right. If the opportunity came, I would kill every last member of the Xyecah family. It’s because of them that we must live in secrecy!” Rosa Lee said, continuing. “I can’t let my son out of my sight, as I hear Phyllamon has no sympathy for children and will set his beasts upon them as if they were dog toys! The man must be done away with!”

Though frightened, the others couldn’t help but agree with Rosa Lee and Rufus. Asha had always thought the villagers lacked the conviction of their words. However, if she saw them at this moment, she would’ve been very proud of her pupils, geared and ready for combat.

2

The dusk brought tones of yellow and red to the treetops. All the cottages were dark and empty, and their shadows grew longer every moment. Already having packed and chosen their hiding spots within the forest, many now sought nourishment and were roasting potatoes and little cubes of meat over fires. Others were too nervous to eat and had already vomited with anticipation.

As the sun completely hid itself, many had begun to relax in hopes that Bahzee had been overreacting. Some of them had gone to sleep with full bellies, resting in the grass. A man, named Daum, stood up to stretch his legs, pacing as he slung his pulse rifle over his shoulder and cracked a smile.

Looks like Phyllamon isn’t going to show. Thank God you were wrong, Baz!
he thought, looking to the others. “Some of us will take turns keeping watch, but I think we’re okay for now. Let’s take a night’s rest and maybe think about heading out on foot tomorrow…I don’t know if it’s such a good idea for us to—”

Then he felt the ground vibrating as a deep growl emerged from the forest. The commotion called the attention of the others, and they got up to gaze at the masses of dancing trees that moved in rhythm to the cracking noises of their foundations. In fact, some of the trees took on such awkward poses that it seemed they were…

…FALLING!

“Take cover, they’re here!” Rufus yelled, darting towards the opposite end of the dense forest.

They scattered, and the last of the villagers had just disappeared when several large trees at the north end of the town plummeted forward. They landed with a loud crash and revealed the hovering tank that had done the damage.

Phyllamon wasn’t in the tank but in a small pod with Murlach, a hundred feet to its rear. There wasn’t a need for them to be any closer, as they weren’t here to explore or anything of the sort. This was a kill mission. At Phyllamon’s command, the infantry would destroy everything in sight.

Now Phyllamon took Felix’s binoculars from the control board and peered closely at the town. It seemed deserted, for there were no lights on in any of the houses. Murlach sighed.

“I doubt you’ll find any out in the open, Master. They must know that we’re here! I mean it wasn’t exactly like you tried to make a discreet entrance.”

Phyllamon growled through a bloody, toothless grin. His nose was set with a monstrous heap of white tape and gauze, held together by a metal clip. His unibrow arched at the ends, as he threw the binoculars aside and gave the command.

“Leave nothing standing!”

All the infantry except for Zu exited the tank and quickly spread out, covering the perimeter. Zu had orders to hang back awhile. If, by some miracle, the villagers were winning, then he would make his entrance. It made no sense to Phyllamon or Murlach to put their prizefighter at risk earlier than necessary. Why not let the pawns go first? It wasn’t likely that they’d need help anyway.

Now the captain of the first wave of soldiers stood in front of Asha’s abandoned cottage, towering two feet above the chimney. In theory, he could’ve beaten the entire place to rubbles with his bare hands, but excess was necessary to make Phyllamon’s point. He raised a flamethrower to the door of the cottage, and he knew the others would follow his lead. As he moved to pull the trigger, a hollowed shell went into his head. The beast stood dead on his feet, and blood seeped down his front side.

Nicolas’s aim had been dead on. He loved Bahzee and Asha very much, and there was something about their house being picked first for destruction that infuriated him. He reacted. Nick’s mother, Rosa Lee, and the others glared at him, astonished at his marksmanship. He nodded at them all, as if to say:
“Not yet…on my mark.”

Since Nicolas’s gun was silenced, and the troops never heard any shots fired, they were bewildered at the lack of productivity from their captain. One second, he was ready to torch the cottage, and the next…

One of the infantry came forward to inspect the matter. “Sir?” he called, oblivious to the heavy puddle of blood that was forming on the ground between his captain’s legs.

At that moment, Nick stepped out from behind a tree some thirty feet away, firing two more shots into the captain’s head. The captain toppled backwards, and the fall made his flamethrower go off, setting his closest six underlings ablaze! As the burning infantry beasts ran about, Nicolas turned and nodded to the others.

Now!

Rosa Lee came out and picked off two of the six burning monsters. Her neighbours felled the other four not long after. The other creatures took cover behind the cottages, looking about to see if they were only being attacked from one direction. However, they were soon disheartened when they saw a hovering object emerge from the trees. It darted towards them, letting loose of a hellish rain of firepower.

Rufus took down several of the beasts instantly, blowing them to smithereens. Flustered (as they were now being attacked from two directions), the remaining soldiers inadvertently scuttled out from behind the cottages, out in the open. The villagers saw the opportunity and took advantage.

3

They’re sitting ducks!
Phyllamon thought as he observed the flying assailant flank his troops to unleash deadly spells of artillery.

“ZU, GET OUT THERE!” Phyllamon commanded.

Zu ran from the tank and began sprinting across the field. Despite his size, Zu was deadly fast, jumping right and left as he evaded the attacks from above. He knew that the quicker he made it to the villagers, the sooner his assailant would think twice about shooting at him, lest he injure neighbours.

Sure enough, as he neared the edge of the forest Zu felt the laser fire behind him cease. He now found himself facing a small squadron of villagers, who immediately open fired on him. Zu caught several shots in the arm and chest before he killed all but one with a wave of his fist. The one he’d missed was knocked dead as he slung his gun off his shoulder and struck the woman across her back, breaking off the ammunition clip in her spine. As the slain villagers fell to the earth, Zu darted into the forest, knowing much firepower would be aimed at him now. As he made it in, he found another and grabbed him up by his neck and snapped it like a twig.

Eyes fixed to the binoculars, to Phyllamon it seemed that Zu was the only one who had sustained just minor wounds. The rest of the soldiers, however, were dropping one by one. Aside from the man in the flying chair, a slightly elderly woman (who held a cannon of some sort upon her arm) did the most damage. She carved holes in his underling’s bodies as if they were blocks of cheese!

Phyllamon now saw her aiming at a particular minion, who had a little boy in his sights.

4

Rue panicked
, as she beheld Nicolas on his knee reloading his weapon.

“Nick, stay down!” she yelled.

Quickly lying flat, Nicolas covered his head with his arms. Rue then unloaded a reservoir of explosive ammunition above his head. The creature was lifted into the air and dismembered.

Nicolas looked up to thank Rue but was silenced as Zu sped past him, heading straight for her.

“Rue, be careful!” he shrieked.

Too late.

Zu rammed her with his shoulder, crushing her torso as he pinned her to a tree. When a new flurry of blasts lined his spine, he took off running again.

Nicolas’ size had worked to his credit. He was so small that Zu didn’t notice him. He now ran to his friend, not even bothering to pretend. Nick was a realistic boy, and he knew she wouldn’t make it.

“Sorry, Rue. I didn’t mean to let you get killed…I was too slow,” he whispered, helping her to a soft spot in the dirt.

Rue shook her head in disagreement. “Not…your fault,” she said, spitting up blood.

With her remaining strength, she raised Nicolas’s hand to her lips and kissed it. Then she died. Nicolas’ head sunk, and he held her tightly, shielding her from the surrounding madness. Although the fight had been taken out of him at the moment, his gun never left his side.