Rise of Prophecy Page 4

  Liviana is not satisfied. She quickly makes her way around the counter. Expecting the worst, Stonebreaker drops to the ground.

  She presses the blade on his neck, ready to slice, “I am here for the Master. If you don’t know anything, then I don’t need you. I’m going to slit your throat and the arteries in your leg. Then I will burn your store to the ground. You will be alive long enough to burn with it.”

  “Wait!” Stonebreaker screams. “Anything for the Master, please, wait. I’ll tell you…I’ll prove what I’m saying is true.” The blade drops from his neck as he wets himself.

  He cautiously slides past Liviana to quickly open a door, revealing a descending set of stairs. He waves her in, looking at the windows to see if there are onlookers. Satisfied, they make their way down. The stairs are wooden, creaking as they go.

  Lights automatically brighten the basement, not by much, but enough to indicate that space is just like the outside, cluttered. Boxes and crates are everywhere congesting the room. It is dusty and damp. The lack of windows guarantees the air is foul. They stop at a table in the center.

  Stonebreaker does not hesitate to activate a screen laid into the table’s surface. Several symbols light up in the corner; he types in a combination rather quickly, hoping Liviana did not observe them. Images appear, then information.

  “See,” he points to the screen, “the Starlight package is bound for Atlantis…it’s not coming here. This stop was just a decoy, see it says so right here.” His enthusiasm for giving up the information shows on his face, hopeful, yet pleading.

  “Who’s the courier?” Liviana demands.

  “Mercenaries hired by the priesthood, from one of the northern Illyrian cartels.”

  The information infuriates Liviana. “If you breathe one word of this, you and your entire line will die before tomorrow’s light…I swear it by the Master.”

  Her promise causes the frightened man to nod his acknowledgment, while he wets himself once more. Liviana storms out.

  -MAIN STREET-

  It doesn’t take Liviana long to make it back on ‘Main Street.’ She is aggravated, angry. Her long strides have a purpose in them; just about the only thing that does at the moment. She slowly realizes that her efforts have been for nothing, that the job she is here for was now out of reach. Her grumbling stomach reminds her to find Mica.

  She crosses the busy street heading towards a restaurant at the corner; she is oblivious to the oncoming traffic. Angry motorists yell at her, but she pays them no mind. As she gets on the sidewalk Mica catches her eye; he is laid out on a bench taking a nap. On any other occasion, she would have done some mischievous things to aggravate him…not today. She stops at the bench and then kicks a leg.

  The impact wakes him almost in a panic, “What the…Oh. Well, what did he say?”

  “He said you should drop dead, and I agree with him. He was fine up until I mentioned you,” Liviana growls.

  “Why did you do that?” Suddenly he realizes something. “Maybe you shouldn’t have said your name was Oona. That’s his wife. I may have, you know.”

  “Incredible” she expresses with disappointment. “I’m hungry…let’s go.” She pulls Mica off the bench. They both make their way inside the restaurant.

  The place is crowded, packed with patrons. There is a clamor of conversation, knocking cutlery, children crying. This chaos was not going to stop Liviana from enjoying a meal today. She has always been a “breakfast all day” girl. She was willing to put up with a short wait at the concierge. Her aggravation quickly disappears as she spots Mica stowing away a handful of complimentary candy. She does her best not to let him see her smile. An overly cheerful girl takes them to a booth.

  They sit across from each other, grabbing the menus. Mica observes a large fellow in the booth after them, sitting behind Liviana; he even more so sees the man’s female companion. She notices him, so he smiles at her; she returns a smile.

  -NEXT BOOTH-

  Alexius sits with a menu in his hands, reading the drinks section; he drops it to see Deidra smiling.

  “Did I miss something?” Alexius asks curiously. Deidra ignores him.

  She swats the menu from Alexius’ hands, “You drag me out here for lunch?” Alexius ignores her.

  -LIVIANA & MICA-

  Liviana waits patiently for their waitress to arrive. Her steely gaze is fixed on Mica; he is looking around the spaces, counting exits, the potential exists and gauging the crowd. She knows he is doing this and is thankful for it. She, of course, will not share that.

  “We’re leaving Illyria, going back to Atlantis. This venture was a waste of time; the package isn’t coming here,” Liviana explains.

  “Once again, no treasure,” Mica states disappointingly. “Liv, I’m tired of this quest, tired of being poor.”

  “I cannot stop now; we cannot. If we fail, then being poor will be the least of your concerns.”

  A pleasant waitress stops at the table. She waits with her pad and pencil. One of the waiters quickly approaches with a trolley. She immediately makes way for him to pass. As he does, the aroma from a large slab of smoldering meat fills the air. The thing looks delicious, with fruit laid on the sides, and vegetables as garnish. The wonderful dish stops at Alexius and Deidra’s booth.

  “Can we have what they’re having?” Mica pleads.

  Liviana gives him a menacing look before responding to the waitress. “No, just breakfast for both of us.” The waitress smiles as she leaves.

  Mica matches Liviana’s stare, “Did you know that sometimes you can be such a cu…?” Liviana has a wicked smile on her face. Mica knows that smile, and he doesn’t like it.

  “Go ahead, please, say it,” Liviana challenges.

  “I don’t want to,” he admits, knowing fully well what will happen. He is too hungry to take on Liviana’s wrath, and he has not gotten beaten up in several days. “There are children present.”

  “You’re the stupid little brother no one wants, did you know that?” Liviana scolds.

  The insult does nothing to Mica as he relaxes, “Ah, but I’m not your little brother,” he says happily. “He’s probably stabbing some poor servant’s guts out.”

  “Drink your coffee, and shut up.”

  -ALEXIUS & DEIDRA-

  The slab of meat in the center of the table is smoldering. The pair looks at it with curiosity, lavishing in the ecstasy that awaits.

  “What is it?” Deidra asks as she pokes the meat. She glances up to see that Alexius has already begun slicing into it.

  “An adventure,” he explains, “…or something they call Yak, I think. Smell good.” He drops a slice on Deidra’s plate then whispers, “Inias gave me an assignment…you’re coming too.”

  A moment passes as he shovels pieces of the Yak into his mouth. The toe-curling flavor is seen in his expression.

  “Well, are you going to keep stuffing your face or tell me?”

  “There’s a shipment of assets bound for the temple tonight. We have to secure everything, from mercs. There’s this chest, with a golden crest…”

  In the other booth, Liviana quiets Mica’s grumblings then discreetly turns her head in Alexius’ direction. She holds her breath waiting for the careless soldier to give up more information.

  Alexius continues, “…surrounded by lots of treasure. It…”

  “Are you insane? I am not stealing from the priesthood. That’s the limit of our friendship,” Deidra protests.

  “Don’t be so dramatic. We both know you won’t do any stealing. All you have to do is, watch my back.”

  “And then what? What are you going to do after, run away?”

  “It’s just me securing my future, and yours if you’ll have it.”

  Another moment passes as Deidra fumes. She decides to resign herself to the inevitable. She has known Alexius long enough to realize there is no stopping him once his mind is made up. All she can do is try to keep him out of trouble.

  “This is the last t
ime,” Deidra shakes her head then mumbles to herself “This is what happens when I go soft.”

  They are preoccupied with the feast and do not take notice of one of the locals observing them. The man is tall, with a large stomach. His unkempt beard and long hair together with his rugged attire, tells that he is one of the mountain folk. A friendly lot, the mountain folk are protective of the locals and do not care much for outsiders.

  The man makes his way to Alexius and Deidra, “You are soldiers aren’t you?” He points to their civilian clothing, “You can't-fool me.”

  “Look, friend,” Alexius says calmly, “we don’t want any trouble.”

  The man smiles, apparently itching for a confrontation, “Trouble, trouble you say? We never had to worry about terrorists or curfews until you arrived. Put up your big base, training your soldiers. Why you have to come here? You should have stayed on your island.”

  Deidra attempts to calm to man, “We’re here at the invitation of your king, to keep the nomads from spreading through your lands.”

  “Ah…fucking propaganda. You Atlanteans with your fancy gadgets and money. Think you’re better than us…”

  Alexius cuts him off in an arrogant tone, “We are better than you,” he states. This insult angers the man, his grinding teeth giving this away.

  He slips a hand inside his jacket and then leans into Alexius. At the same time, Deidra begins to move towards the attacker. She is saved the trouble of starting a fight when Mica suddenly bumps into the man.

  Like a massive beast being dropped on a hunt, the mountain man falls on Alexius, limp and unconscious. The weight crushes him, but Mica tries to pull the beast off. The man’s hand drops off to the ground, and so does the rest of him.

  Mica calls out to the staff, “Some help here!” Two staffers rush in to pull the local off. He uses this opportunity to attach a small device on to Alexius’ boot discreetly.

  “Thank you, friend. What did you do to him?” Alexius asks Mica.

  “Aryan snake venom. It’s harmless…he’ll be good by morning. Hey, can I try some of that?” He points to the chunk of meat.

  Alexius nods. Mica doesn’t waste time slicing a moderate piece off. Grateful, he returns to his seat.

  -LIVIANA & MICA-

  With one hand Mica holds the chunk of meat showing it off to Liviana; she is unimpressed. He drops it off on one of the freshly arrived plates. Like an entitled brat, Liviana attempts to take a slice of the Yak; Mica protects his prize.

  “Well?” she demands a report. Mica nods, expressing delight as he chews. Instinctively, he cuts half the Yak and gives it to her.

  “Ponchus is a good man but, we’d better be clear of here by morning; he won’t take kindly to being stuck with snake venom. And I’m telling him you did it.”

  “Do you know everyone in this dump of a town?”

  -ALEXIUS’ BOOT-

  A small octagonal device glows in a dim green color, and then it matches the color of the boot…fading away like a chameleon. The tiny transmitter has a range of 100 feet, and if Mica’s gamble pays off, Alexius won’t change out of his boots. The thing about soldiers who are posted in the middle of nowhere is, they will change their clothes, but they will always wear the same pair of boots.

  Another one of his gambles was that Ponchus would know precisely what he had to do, all from Mica’s nod. The beating Ponchus would deliver for the snake venom, however, was not something he had planned for.

  Chapter 04: I Need an Old Priest

  One of the charms of Southern Illyria is the slow-paced atmosphere; even the sun seems unwilling to make its descent into twilight. There is still an hour to go, and the brilliant yellow streaks turn into rich red ones, showering the mountain-side with light. The local monastery sits at the top, a testament to the holy watching over the town.

  There is a large temple at the center of the monastery grounds, surrounded by a well-cared for landscape. From there anyone can observe the roads spiraling down; it is advantageous since this is the only approach to the monastery. Presently it is carefully watched by the garrison soldiers waiting for their shipment.

  Alexius and Deidra sit just outside of the temple. Like two overly bored adolescents, they find simple things to occupy their time. From pulling on the fresh grass to tossing rocks over the short wall; they are going out of their minds. Occasionally, pairs of Cadets stroll by, wishing they were full-fledged soldiers, taking note of their lazy superiors. Bain and Fat-Boy at the very least, complain about the two Captains just lounging about drinking wine.

  The resident priest, Father Mathias, slowly approaches the temple from the monastery spaces. He is a kind old man, now in his eighties; strong as ever though, able to outwit the best of the residents there. He has dedicated the better part of forty years to the monastery, fathering four children, and amassing a horde of grandchildren. Not much is known about him before his assignment to this corner of Illyria. All the same, holy and unholy alike come to visit, paying homage to the man that is Mathias.

  He is carrying a silver platter with a pitcher of local wine; a concoction of fermented fruit, wine, and a potent ingredient produced by the mountain folk. It is sure to knock the soldiers on their asses, he muses. He stops close to Deidra and places the platter on a nearby table.

  “More wine my child? This is one of our favorites, locally brewed.”

  “No thank you, Father. I am quite alright with the regular brew.” Deidra smiles warmly at the priest. She knows all too well how she behaves after several cups of the local favorite; she turns into a whining and needy wench.

  “I’ll have some,” the irritating Cadet Bain announces, with Fat-Boy right behind him.

  Mathias hesitates and then looks at Deidra. She must be feeling generous today, as her nod to the priest indicates such. He pours the drink, embracing the sweet aroma as it flows. The burgundy color entices Bain; Fat-Boy licks his lips waiting for his share. As Mathias extends a cup to the anxious Cadet, Alexius snatches it from Bain’s grasp.

  “Thank you, Father, most kind.”

  Bain and Fat-Boy walk-off scowling.

  Mathias smiles at the comedy, remembering the impatience of youth. As he returns the pitcher to the table a pin on his collar catches the fading sunlight; it dazzles Deidra’s eyes. The gold and silver triangle is small and looks more like a hand-made trinket rather than a religious object.

  “That’s an interesting pin,” Deidra points out.

  Mathias gives her a proud grandfather smile, “Oh this? My grandson made it. It’s one half of a set, and he wears the twin.”

  “It's lovely,” she expresses with genuine admiration.

  Mathias looks at both Deidra and Alexius with worry on his face. There is a bit of an anxious feeling within him as if he is expecting trouble.

  “I am uncomfortable receiving these assets. Normally this would not worry me, but these are different times. There’s always some villain lurking in the bushes,” he explains.

  “Quite right Father. Not to worry though,” Alexius declares, “you have the might of Atlantis to protect you.” His tone is a bit arrogant, stemming more from the wine than any ill intent.

  The priest smiles warmly at him, knowing full well what the drink is doing, “I knew your father. He was a good man, loyal…”

  “He died when I was but a child, in Northern Illyria of all places,” Alexius says.

  “Wasn’t he once Governor of FaW-C?” Deidra asks.

  “He was, long before I was born. That’s about as much as I know. Don’t suppose you know more Father?” Alexius looks at the priest smiling at him.

  There is a slight glimmer in the old man’s expression. “Old age dulls the memory I’m afraid,” he offers, not revealing what he knew. “His time in Illyria however, those were some exciting days.” He makes a retreat before any more questions come his way.

  Alone once more, Deidra exhales sharply, which does an excellent job at expressing her feelings about the wasted evening. She looks at Al
exius pouring more of the potent wine. He looks at her and then fills her cup; this time she doesn’t refuse.

  “This is so boring, how much longer?” she asks.

  “Inias said sundown. Relax, take in the cool air, the view; a break from everything.”

  “Some assignment this is.” Deidra gets off the chair, then begins pacing, sipping on her wine.

  “Do you always want to find a fight?” Alexius asks. “I requested you come so you can, relax. You are so uptight all the time.”

  “You want me here so you can fill your pockets,” she reminds him.

  “Whatever is in that chest must be worth a whole lot. Armed escorts?” Alexius asks rhetorically.

  “So we are the villains, only not in the bushes.”

  “The priesthood is rich,” Alexius reminds her. He decides to plead his case, hoping to ease her concerns. “They are possibly richer than Atlantis, surely all of Illyria, and definitely Aryavan. Think of it; they are revered by all except the nomads. You know, I’ve been thinking…”

  “Here we go,” Deidra declares sarcastically.

  “Nomads live on the fringes, the borderlands, the wastelands. They live free. They don’t pay tribute to the priesthood, nor carry banners to any lord or king…”

  Deidra cuts into his rant, “And they worship their goddess, Persephone. Blasphemy.” There is a conviction in her voice, almost a disdain at her mention of the once great Anuk princess, and Egyptian queen.

  “There is the problem; they don’t conform. So we fight the nomads. Ever asked why?” At this point, Deidra is noticeably uncomfortable with the conversation. She isn’t buying his defense of the nomads.

  “We fight them because they terrorize the civilizations with killings, destruction, and anarchy,” she reminds Alexius. “We snuff them out; take their land and their lives.”

  “A handful amongst the many, seasoned by generations of hate and oppression.”

  Deidra looks at Alexius with concern on her face, almost worried, “Careful Captain, or you may be labeled a sympathizer.”

  “All I’m saying is that it has to end one day. Since it’s not today, I’ll try to get my piece of good living.” He sips his wine with determination, trying to get past the bitter sting of flavor.