"Rumours of War"

[dochermes]

"Rumours of War"

(5/25/19777)

3/25/1986


Three men and two women stepped out into the courtyard of the new complex on Hawk Island. Construction was finished, all the utilities were working and the facility was open but some rooms were still empty. Before them was a hangar with its wide doors slid open to reveal one of the CORBYs, sleek black stealth helicopters which used technology beyond Human knowledge. The team had finished their training schedule for the week and were ready to go off-duty and scatter. Overhead, a gull shrieked and wheeled in the sun. There were in fact no hawks here; the island was named after the family which had owned it.

In the lead of the group was the newest Tel Shai knight, a small slim Chinese woman with short glossy black hair and huge dark eyes. Tang Ming had just turned eighteen, she could not have joined while still a minor despite the adventures she had already experienced. Ming wore simple cotton slacks and long-sleeved blouse, all navy blue, with soft slippers. She carried no weapons as a rule. Normally reserved, she had an impish grin now as she listened to the conversation close at hand.

A few steps behind her was a tall, powerfully built gladiator of a man with a shock of black hair and blue eyes in a craggy face. He wore slacks and white dress shirt with the cuffs rolled back. This was Sulak, the Champion of Androval and he was arguing with an American black man who had medium length hair and a thick mustache. He was wearing black sweat pants and a blue T-shirt with a picture of a sunburst on it. Stephen Weaver was going on at length about what women really wanted as opposed to what they said they wanted. The two of them stopped to argue and Tang Ming smiled over one shoulder at them.

Bringing up the rear, silent and unsmiling, were Jessica Frost and Ethan Petrov. This was their normal attitude. Frost was a pale young woman with hair that was almost white and light blue eyes. Her expression was always serious and withdrawn. Walking beside her was a thin man with a hard, spare musculature. Ethan wore denim jeans and a nylon warm-up jacket. In contrast to the serene expression of Frost, he usually looked grouchy and annoyed and today was no exception. All he thought about was weapons.

Watching the four of them, Ming felt more excited than ever. So much to learn. She was still giddy over being accepted as a knight of Tel Shai and a member of the Kenneth Dred Foundation. Both Sulak and Weaver were already holding those positions. Jessica Frost and Ethan Petrov had been granted some Tel Shai training and both had applied to be reserve KDF members, serving as needed. Now, as she listened to Sulak and Weaver debate how to get along with women, it was all she could do not to laugh.

"See here, you two," she said as she swung around to face them. "Speaking AS a woman, I have to inform you that you're both so wrong it's not even funny-" Ming broke off as she sensed something. Everyone was alert at once. They knew her powers involved perception and they knew she was picking up on some presence they themselves could not detect as yet.

The young Chinese girl turned, arms whirling up in a defensive pose. A red gralic gate burst almost within arm's reach, and thirty invaders appeared with water dripping off them. They wore shark-hide armor, dyed bright red and green, with wide shoulder pieces and crested helmets. All were armed with short swords and tridents. In the silence which followed their sudden arrival, the sound of water falling off them to the concrete was loud.

The five KDF members formed a loose line facing the intruders, each picking a share and planning how to attack. The leader of the invaders was taller than the rest, wearing a bizarre horned helmet made of coral. He held in one hand a long knife with a bone blade and he seemed to recognize one of the KDF. "Can it be? Sulak!"

"I AM Sulak," the big Melgar announced boldly as he stepped closer.

"It is my happy duty to inform you that you and your companions are prisoners of war. Ulgor has come to avenge itself for the crimes which Androval did-" He was cut off as a knotted fist blasted against his helmet so quickly that no one watching was sure they had seen the blow. Fragments flew away from that coral helmet as the man was flung back off his feet. As Sulak struck, the Ulgoran warriors swarmed over him and went hurtling back from devastating blows that broke bones wherever they touched.

Jessica Frost did not need to move to use her power. Just concentrating, she glared at one of the Gelydrim and the water vapor in the air around his head froze instantly into an opaque shell that cut off all air and light. He struck out in panic as one of his fellows tried to seize him to chip off the ice before he suffocated. Turning her deadly gaze to another, she froze him completely, so he fell to the ground with a heavy thud like a statue being knocked over.

Stephen Weaver did not have the uniform designed by the USAF for its Black Angel project, but he could function well enough without it. The artificial wings helped guide his flight, but his levitating power was his own. As an Ulgoran lunged forward and thrust with his trident, the lanky black man levitated up six feet into the air and kicked the man square in the face. As the Gelydra dropped, Weaver tried to turn in mid-air by using just his arms and legs to guide his body. It wasn't easy. Most levitaphs feel successful if they can rise up off the ground at all. Without the artificial wings to help, any manuever took longer and was more work.

For her part, Tang Ming moved elusively among the invaders, tripping one so he tangled up another, striking with stiffened fingers where a windpipe was exposed, sweeping a soldier's feet out from under him. Every time she saw an opening, her hard tight fist cracked in to stun an opponent. Ming's gift of perception gave her uncanny timing and precision limited only by her physical capacity. She had been brought up in the Fu Jow Pai style and had not learned enough Kumundu yet to use it in a fight. The enemy seemed to be deliberately missing her but this was an illusion caused by her skill.

Ethan Petrov was for once not carrying a weapon, something almost unprecedented. Three Ulgorans charged at him. Two had short swords and one weilded a halberd. With a terrible predator smile, Ethan decided he would take the halberd. With a quickness none of his opponents could follow, the Weapons Master yanked his leather belt from his thin hips and lashed with it like a tiger swatting. It was a perfectly ordinary belt with a round metal buckle, but it cracked hard against one Ulgoran's face, blinding him and breaking his nose. The invader screamed and pawed at his face, releasing the halberd which Ethan seized eagerly. A strange gleam showed in the Weapons Master's eye as he spun the six-foot staff with its axe blade at the far end. This was what he lived for. If he had ever abandoned his discipline and ethics against harming innocents, Ethan could have been the most dangerous maniac in history.

The halberd's blade sliced through one Ulgoran's neck in a neat swipe. Ethan reversed the weapon and swung its butt to break the skull of another, then dropped into a crouch and shot the butt of the weapon forward like a pool cue to drive into the groin of a third. He struck again and again, and suddenly he was surrounded by a circle of dead or disabled men with no one left to strike at. Watching from a few feet away, Tang Ming frowned. Her teammate had a demon in him just beneath the surface, struggling to escape. She caught his glance and nodded solemnly.

Only one invader remain on his feet, the leader. It seemed incredible that any man could
stand toe to toe with the immensely powerful Melgar and survive, but the helmeted invader held his own. He fought with skill and ferocity, launching attacks that grew fiercer rather than less. He was not tiring. Sulak stepped in close, slapped his opponent's guard down and threw a simple jab that carried irresistable impact. The Ulgoran tumbled back to the ground, fought to get up on one knee, snarling in fury. His helmet had been shattered into a shapeless mess and he tugged it off to toss it aside.

The Ulgoran had pale sandy hair, light blue eyes that were burning with anger, and two curious bumps on his temples as if twin round objects were buried just under the skin. Even those of the five Tel Shai knights who had never seen him before instantly recognized the notorious berserker of the Midnight War.

"Atron!"

"Aye," growled the Ulgoran. "Atron Ke the Destroyer, Warlord of New Ulgor. It would seem you have bested these sorry excuses sent with me."

"Only them?" scoffed Sulak. "Have I not laid you low as well, Destroyer?"

"Not so easily. I am born to combat, a child of the Sulla Chun. I do not doubt that in time I can wear your brute strength down through superior skill. But Demrak Sum orders otherwise, and if I must use unmanly tricks as he orders, well I must."

"Orders? I thought you were a proud man, Atron." Sulak shook his head sadly. "Have you sold your arm for mere gold, then?"

"Nay! Never. But I am not here to justify my actions to a butcher like yourself." Atron acted with lightning speed, tugging a chamois pounch from his belt and flinging its contents at Sulak. Glittering golden dust swirled around the big Melgar in a haze. Shockingly, Sulak dropped to his knees, choking, visibly suffering. He could not rise. "Cyrinkyl.. but how?" he wheezed.

Atron Ke did not answer but he must have known what the Melgar was wondering. Cyrinkyl, the star-snow, was a vitality-sapping substance which did not lasting harm. It was the closest thing to a humane weapon possible. It was crafted only by two Races: the immortal Eldarin and their more aggressive offshoot, the Melgarin. That Atron should possess cyrinkyl could mean.. a Melgar traitor?

As Sulak fell, his four teammate surrounded Atron Ke and moved in. He grinned wickedly, curled his hands into fists and waited for the first to make a move. But a quiet, confident voice interrupted with, "Stand down, team. Step back away from him."

As the four KDF members obeyed that voice, the Ulgoran chieftain blinked. "Of course. Dire Wolf, I should have known you would be here."

Standing by the stealth copter was a gaunt man all in black, with short dark hair and cold grey eyes under feral brows. As the KDF members backed up, Bane drew and fired his airgun four times but the soft cough of the propulsion was drowned out by sharp detonations against Atron's head. Four small explosions blasted against him in less than a second, spinning him around and flinging him onto his stomach. Holstering his gun, the Dire Wolf strode closer and slapped two pairs of handcuffs on his prisoner, binding his wrists and ankles together.

"Nice timing, captain," said Weaver with relief. "Are those bracelets gonna hold him?"

"They are not regulation cuffs," answered Bane. "They're designed for Melgarin." He examined the stunned Gelydra. "Atron again. Talk about a bad penny. Ming, Jessica... I want you to brush off the cyrinkyl from Sulak so he recovers faster. Steve, go into the facility and get the brig ready. Ethan, stand by for when these soldiers revive. Those two over there are stirring."

Kneeling in front of the cuffed Ulgoran, Bane said, "Well, Atron. Here we are again. What's the deal? Why did you attack my team?"

"It is war!" growled the Warlord. "Not against you Tel Shai dancers but against Androval. My orders were to bring Sulak back to stand trial for his crimes against my people."

"Well, you can't have him. He's our boy now."

"You know a little of our history, Dire Wolf." Atron tried to get up, pulling against the cuffs until his wrists bled. "Who was it that struck the first blow. Was it Ulgor? No. We were subjugated for twelve long years by the Melgarin. I was only a child but I remember the humiliation and the starvation. Demrak Sum is right. Androval must be sacked and its people punished before our own realm can live in honor."

Bane shook his head sadly, "War because of war. It could go on forever." He straightened as he saw Stephen Weaver returning. "Help me get this guy into the holding cell, Steve. We have some hard choices ahead."

II.

Atron Ke rose to his feet and paced the cell again. It had been constructed, he realized, to hold prisoners with greater than Human strength... such as himself. The humidity was kept uncomfortably low and the warm dry air sapped the vitality of an amphibian like him. He could feel the sharklike force had drained from his body. Sluggish and defeated, the Warlord of New ulgor walked listlessly about.

The cell was large enough, fifteen feet by fifteen feet, and he was the only prisoner. The walls were made of a some dense plastic that had a glossy sheen. The sleeping mat and toilet were clean and comfortable enough. He had to admit he had been treated without abuse. So far he had not been offered a meal, but then he had only been in here a few hours. Atron wore white shorts and a white short-sleeved smock with no pockets. The muscles revealed in his arms and were long, taut cables that denoted his whiplash power. He was barefoot; the KDF had nothing that would fit the long webbed feet of a Gelydra.

With a hiss, the door slid into the wall. Beyond it was a small booth whose outer door had to close before the inner one would open. A man stood in that booth, watching Atron with cold grey eyes which missed nothing. That man was six feet tall, slim, wearing all black. Atron spun weakly to face him. "Dire Wolf. Have you come to taunt me?"

Jeremy Bane did not move. "You know me better than that. I wanted to talk to you before we leave for Ulgor."

"Why pretend? It is clear where your loyalties lie."

"Because of Sulak? I know he was among the Melgarin who invaded Ulgor sixty years ago but I have found him a decent enough sort."

"Hah! You know nothing, Human. Sulak was commander of the Melgar army which poured into my city and slaughtered a third of our population. I was an infant during the Occupation but I remember every minute of it. Ask him why I have no family! Ask him why I have spent my life without purpose."

"That was a long time ago.." Bane began but Atron interrupted.

"SO? You are only Human. To you, fifty years is forever. But I am a Gelydra of Ulgor, like the Melgarin we live to be two hundred and my life is barely a third over. Under the waves, life endures and our memories are long and bitter. Sulak is almost eighty and he is barely in his prime. In another fifty years, he could again ravage Ulgor."

Bane stood with arms folded, face expressionless. "We mere Humans know something of war, too," he said quietly.

"You are a child, Jeremy! Even for a Huma. You are not even forty. You have much to learn. Keep me here if you will, torture and beat me if you wish to, but I will defy you with my last breath!" Atron was screaming in his rage.

The Dire Wolf did not answer. With a hiss, the inner door slid shut and he was left in the small booth as the door behind him opened to the hallway beyond. He turned and walked down that hallway to the wing where five personal quarters were. As he passed a window, he paused to gaze outside and collect his thoughts. Hawk Island had been the stronghold of KDF founding member Michael Hawk, as if had been of his uncle Robert before him. With the death of Michael Hawk, the island had been left to become Bane's property. He had expanded and upgraded the facility here, making it the secondary headquarters for the KDF. Out there beyond the hard rocky beach was a strip of ocean that seperated them from the coast of Maine. After a few more seconds of thought, Bane wheeled and strode quickly down the hall.

Here in this wing were five small apartments, each not much more than a bed, bathroom and work station. They did not belong to anyone in particular but were used by KDF members in turn as they stayed here. Bane went to the first one and knocked sharply on the plain door which held no number. A deep voice rumbled, "Come in, it's unlocked."

Sulak of Androval seemed to be a tall, muscular man in his early thirties. His thick straight hair was black, shaggy over his neck and ears. Under thick brows, his eyes were dark blue and watchful. He was not handsome, but had a rugged, outdoorsy face. As Bane entered, Sulak was fastening a wide leather belt around his narrow waist. He had changed into his arena uniform. This was the ceremonial garb he wore as a Champion of Androval. It consisted of tight cotton shirt and pants of a royal blue color, with soft leather boots and gloves that were white. Across his shoulders was a wide white mantle with a single red vertical bar that indicated his rank.

The smile on the Melgar's face dropped as he saw the grim expression Bane wore. "What is it, captain?"

Bane stepped into the room. It was minimal but comfortable. He said, "I was just talking to Atron. My knowledge of Midnight War history isn't as deep as it should be. What happened in 1929?"

"Ah," said Sulak thoughtfully. "So long ago. I was just twenty, Jeremy, and as hot-headed as you Humans are at such an age. My strength was beyond precedent, even for the one Melgar in each generation who inherits the legacy of Malberon. I was caught up in the fervor. I went to war with trumpets in my ears."

There was a pause and Bane said, "Go on."

"I need not defend my actions. It was war, our King had sent us and we did our just duty. Before you criticize you, let me remind you we left Ulgor of our own will. In 1940, after eleven years, we withdrew. In that war, I fought any enemy who dared stand before me. I killed many but in fair combat, using nothing but my fists. Then I returned to the real world to witness what you called World War Two. I have to say your war dwarfed ours in scope and in cruelty. We were old-fashioned and timid compared to the way Humans conducted their war." He was looking down somberly at his fists. "It is not surprising that Atron should hate me, though I don't remember him. He would have been only ten or eleven years old at the end of the Occupation."

"True enough," Bane said. "But the past can't be undone. What I am concerned with is the present. If we can do anything to prevent a new conflict between Ulgor and Androval, we must try."

III.

Bane had given his team two hours free time before they had to report. He wanted to think the situation over himself. Leaving the private quarters, he stepped through an exit door and wandered around the outside of the facility. It was freezing out, a wind coming in off the ocean, but he hardly noticed that. He was looking at the facility. The main building was two stories high, made of stone blocks painted white, with a wing on each end. The wing on the left was the five rooms he had just left. He had thought of building a private apartment for each member but decided against it as they were not here that often and a first-come, first-served basis worked fine so far. The main building held his own office, a command center, a medical ward and a recreation room. The wing opposite the private rooms held training facilities.. basically a gym and obstacle course.

The Dire Wolf studied the layout and was grudgingly satisfied. He had built up on what Mike had left, and he wasn't sure he should have done that rather than start from scratch. Turning left, he looked two miles to the shore where the boathouse stored two speedboats for ferrying members to Southport in case something went wrong with the CORBY. He always wanted back-ups and emergency procedures, it was his nature.

The chill in the wind made him start moving again. he walked along the outside of the building until he came to the back of the hangar. Hawk had used this for his little prop job, but now the CORBY sat here. As Bane went around to the open doors, he saw Stephen Weaver climb out from under the helicopter and start stowing tools away. The rotors had been removed from the top assembly and were stowed in their racks in one corner.

"Everything okay, Steve?"

"Fine, captain, clean as if it just came from the factory. It's a joy working on a bird like this compared to some of the rustbuckets I've had to fix up." weaver went over to a stainless steel and scrubbed his hands in steaming hot water. He was medium dark in skin tone, with a thick mustache and short hair. The former USAF pilot had a relaxed manner but his eyes gave away how serious he really was. As Bane stood there examining the CORBY, Weaver struggled out of his loose tan jumpsuit and tossed it in a hamper. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt underneath.

"What do you think of the new kids so far?" Bane asked. Weaver had joined the KDF almost at its founding, seven years earlier.

"Hmmm. Let me think. All right, Sulak is solid. He's classic material. Tang Ming is good to go. Her perception and her kung fu are a great combination. Jessica, well... she is what she is. She's never going to loosen up. She'll always be cold and hard but you can count on her. Ethan, I don't know."

Bane stepped closer. "EVeryone seems to have doubts about him."

"I'm gonna go along with the consensus then. He's skilled, for sure. Give him any kind of weapon and he's incredibly dangerous. But I don't know, I just am not comfortable with that guy. I don't know if I want to count on him having my back." Weaver turned dark eyes on Bane. "Hope I'm not being unfair."

"No, I want you to be honest." The Dire Wolf turned back toward the CORBY. "I think we should give him a chance. But being a knight of Tel Shai and a KDF member is not something lightly given."

"It's almost noon, Jeremy. The team should be assembling soon. I'm going to get into the Black Angel rig." He walked briskly out of the hangar toward the main building as Bane remained. The Dire Wolf was already wearing the full field suit, and his helmet sat inside the CORBY.

Jessica Frost appeared in the doorway, in the field suit with her helmet held in the crook of her arm. Her white hair was tied up tightly. The crystal blue eyes glittered. "Ready, captain."

"Hi, Jessica." Bane gave her a slight smile. In the traumatic circumstances which had awakened her freezing abilities, Frost lost most of her emotions. She had fixated on him in her last moments of being fully Human. Now, she watched him obediently.

"Are you sure you want to go on full active duty?" he asked. "You know, you are welcome to stay with us just as a guest as long as you wish. We can use someone on monitor duty."

"I am certain. I swore I will follow where you lead, captain." Frost's voice was not a monontone or weird-sounding, just very calm and determined. "My power can be a great asset."

Bane nodded. "I'm glad to have you aboard." He looked up as Tang Ming walked in. She had been given special permission not to wear the KDF gear. She claimed the armor and weapons and electronics interfered with her balance and perception, and so far she had been allowed to do without them. She wore low slippers, white socks, loose black trousers and a white long-sleeved blouse. Over the blouse was a red vest with a high collar. Ming smiled and gave the slightest bow to her teammates.

"Captain. Jessica."

Ethan Petrov and Sulak entered together. The Weapons Master was wearing the full KDF field suit, including helmet with the visor up. Sulak was in his royal blue arena uniform. Like Tang Ming, he had joined with the condition that he be allowed to wear his own clothing, in this case the uniform he had earned through dozens of duels. Sulak was an impressive sight, he did not have the planned muscles of a bodybuilder but the rugged physique of a gladiator.

"Great, we're almost ready," Bane said. "Everyone assemble over by the CORBY, please." As he spoke, Black Angel swooped down through the open hangar doors, lowered his feet and touched down. The batlike red wings folded with a faint mechanical hum to line up along the man's back. Weaver removed his helmet and grinned. "Ready when you guys are."

Bane could not held a smile at Weaver's typical flashy entrance. "Here's the agenda. I will take the CORBY to Ulgor to meet with this Demrak Sum that Atron mentioned. Jessica and Ming will go with me."

"Hey man, you got both the girls on your team," Weaver complained.

The Dire Wolf dismissed that comment with an upraised palm. "Sulak, I will send you to Androval to confer with King Holmir. Your rank as Champion gives you access to the throne. Steve and Ethan will go with you. I know you realize what Atron's use of cyrinkyl suggests... find out where he got it."

"I understand," said the Melgar warrior grimly.

Opening the hatch of the CORBY, Bane climbed inside and detached something from the instrument console. He came out holding a pale blue gem the size of a dinner plate, the largest Eldar travel crystal known. "I think I will add a twelve-hour charge. At the end of that time, you three will return to this spot. Within ten or fifteen minutes either way, that is. It's not all that precise." He placed the Eldar crystal down on the workbench nearest them. "You three, place your fingers on this gem."

"I can send us," Sulak said. "I have had experience with these." As Ethan and Weaver touched their fingertips to the crystal, Sulak did the same and all three of them vanished in a swirl of beautiful azure light that flared up around them and faded.

Ming was awed. "That is an amazing sight. I can just perceive the doorway opening in space to draw them in." She watched as Bane returned the crystal to its setting on the console of the copter.

"I have been wondering something," Frost said. They both looked at her. It was rare for her to speak unless asked a direct question. "When the Melgarin invaded Ulgor in 1929, how did they breathe? Ulgor is underwater. Surely they did not have aqualungs at that time?"

"No," Bane answered. "They used an alchemical drug called Bernicas. It charges the lungs with oxygen for a few days. There is some damage from prolonged use, so the troops were rotated. We won't need that drug. We will clip a small air tank to our suits, but we'll also carry a couple of the oxygen membrane masks with us. They'll be all we need. We aren't going to stay for weeks." He went over to the hatch by the pilot seat and climbed in. "Let's roll."


IV.


In a flash of blue light, three Tel Shai knights appeared within the walled city of Emaryl, capital of Androval. Only Sulak was prepared for the sight. They stood in a huge square where the three main avenues of the city met in front of the royal palace. A marble fountain in the center featured a twenty-foot horse rearing on its hind legs. This was the emblem of Androval, and they would see it everywhere, from paintings to flags to cloaks. All about them were buildings of white stone, three or four stories high, with pennants and banners bearing the emblems of the businesses contained within. Twin towers higher than any other structure flanked the wide walkways leading up to the palace, and a dozen armored Melgarin stood on the steps leading up to that noble building. Everything was scrubbed, polished and immaculate. Even the courtyard on which they stood was gleaming.

Far away, a trumpet sounded and hooves galloped past.

Sulak took a deep breath. "Ah! The air breathed by free men." Beside him, Weaver raised the goggles of his Black Angel helmet and whistled, "Wicked, my man, this place is wicked." Ethan said nothing.

"We must act quickly," the big Melgar told them. Here in this shining city, Sulak's bright blue and white outfit no longer seemed flamboyant, It fit in. All he needs is a cape, thought Weaver.

As a crowd began to gather and stare, Sulak started marching toward the walkway which led to the palace, and his teammates fell in step. "We must seek audience with Holmir," he began explaining, "and hope the King is in the city this day. Once I have his ear..."

"Think not of His majesty's ear!" barked a harsh voice near at hand. "Rather, take care of your own throat." Over a dozen men in plate armor had stepped forward from a side street, and now they encircled the Tel Shai knights. The biggest one there wore a helmet with bull horns and he brandished a broadsword four feet long. It was he who had spoken.

Sulak snorted derisively. "Do you bar my path, child?"

"With great joy! I was in the latest tournament, if you recall Heralgo son of Maylan. I placed third and so did not get to face you directly. Still, I have often thought of how close I came and, as my lord has commanded your death, I rushed to be first to confront you." He lifted the swords and the other armored men spread out in a semi-circle. Most held swords with two-handled grips, but one carried a spear and one a mace with a spiked head.

"Hey, man," asked Weaver. "Don't you have police in your town?"

"There is a city guard, though I see them not. They mostly patrol the walls."

Ethan Petrov grinned wickedly. He was already planning which weapon to take, in what order to kill these men. "Step aside," He whispered but Sulak barred his path with an arm.

"Stand down, my friends. It is a matter of honor." The Champion turned to the armored men and gestured to them to come on. The nearest Melgar stabbed forward with his spear and Sulak jammed it by stepping in close and grabbing the shaft with his left hand. His right fist slammed forward barely three inches, splintering the steel armor like brittle ice under a hammer. That Melgar promptly forgot the fight as he was preoccupied with his broken ribs.

The other Melgarin were not discouraged. All of their Race were stronger and more resilient than Humans, but Sulak was a phenomenon ever for his kind. The attackers charged as a group, and as a group they were flung back so quickly and forcefully that it seemed as if they had all leaped upon an exploding bomb. Sulak's fists lashed out in all directions, fast as twin cobras, hard as sledge hammers.

"Man, look at him whale those guys!" Weaver yelled. "Go, Sulak. Do it, man!"

Ethan watched in silence, fascinated. Sulak in action! The greatest warrior of a warrior Race, blurring out deadly blows that were somehow still graceful in their execution. There was a strange mystique in the sight of a single man matching his fists against swords and spears. The Weapons Master felt the first twinge of uncertainty he had known for years, suddenly unsure if he himself could stand against the Melgar champion.

Five opponents were already down. Broken arms and concussions left three others wandering about harmlessly. Sulak had not been touched. The royal blue uniform did not have even a rip in it. Two last swordsman came running at him with an arm's length between them. They obviously intended to seperate and come in at their enemy from both sides at once. Sulak did not give them the second they needed. He dropped into a classic boxing stance and darted out a left-right combination that thumped against his attackers with impact loud as a gun going off. The left jab snapped the sworsdsman's head back so far his neck broke audibly. The right hook with instantly followed spun the second man around with his helmet dented in. As quickly as a man snapping his fingers, Sulak had plowed through a dozen opponents.

Weaver, who had been a boxing enthusiast since childhood, cheered. "Way to go, my man. Whatever they feed you, I want some."

Only one of the attackers remained, whom Sulak had avoided from the start. It was Heralgo, who shifted his grip on his sword and glanced uneasily at the bodies sprawled in all directions.

"I have saved you for last and best," Sulak laughed. In fifty years of combat, he had faced nearly every possible attack. Heralgo rushed forward, swinging his broadsword in a horizontal stroke. Sulak hopped one step to the left, so close he felt the whoosh of the blade going past and smashed a big right fist directly into his opponent's face. The helmet caved in, breaking Heralgo's nose and the man fell to a seated position. As Heralgo moaned and tried vaguely to get up, Sulak wrested the sword away and casually bent the blade double before tossing it aside.

"You need to train harder," Sulak growled. "Abstain from beer. Eat little bread or gravy. You have promise but you are far from a Champion." He bent to seize the man by his breastplate and effortlessly raised him overhead to shake him vigorously. "And now, I will have answers from you."

"No! I dare not!"

sulak yanked the man's dented helmet off and crumpled it in one hand. As the horrified Melgar stared, the Champion said quietly, "Imagine what my grasp would do to your hands..."

After a pause, Heralgo whispered, "Tell no one you heard from me?"

"I swear nothing. Give me a name."

"...Varlay."

"That damned warlock! I knew it," Sulak muttered hoarsely. "Even in exile, he menaces our land. Is it not true that Lankur is also involved in this plot? No, you need not answer. I can see it in your face." He dropped the stunned Melgar to the marble courtyard, then turned to the watching Weaver and Ethan.

"These are old enemies of mine," Sulak said. "Lankur is my 'brother,' so-called. He is the true son of Holmir while I am but a ward of my liege because of my arena rank. Lankur has always resented my prowess and has caused me endless trouble."

"Aw, family problems," Weaver said. "Tell me about it."

As he spoke, five Melgarin rode up on black horses. They wore identical armor, each with a red crest on his helmet, and their faceplates were up. The man in the lead had a sullen, weighty face with droopy black mustaches. "Sulak!" he snorted. "What did I say just now when we heard the trumpet?"

"Hail, Tirado. Your guard is as alert as ever."

Tirado looked around and sighed. "Home but a moment and a dozen men lie broken at your feet, old friend."

"They started it," Sulak said.

"So I gather. I pray you, tell me who are the strangers who stand behind you. It is not meet for mortal Men to come unbidden to this realm."

"They are good men and stout of heart, Tirado. It is not their fault that they were not born Melgarin. Each is a knight of Tel Shai. The man with the wings is called Weaver. The other is known as Ethan. I have brought them here on an urgent matter. I would have audience with the king."

Tirado gestured to the man at his right. "Benador, dismount and go within, tell the herald at the gate to inform our king that Sulak has returned." The Melgar shrugged. "Everything is so complicated. soon I will have to send a herald to ask a herald to ask a herald whether the King is even in the city today. We used to be more direct. Are those wings real?"

"No," Weaver said. "Nylon over aluminum tubing, that's all."

"I thought so," Tirado answered. "Cleverly crafted they are, though." He stepped down from his horse and handed to reins to one of his men. "Remal, remain here until these men stir and send them on their way. If any are too battered, haul them to the lesser dungeon until a healer may tend to them. I will return shortly." He turned to Sulak and the two started walking, with Weaver and Ethan following.

"It has been months since I have been home," Sulak said. "what's new?"

"In truth, you speak ever more like the folks in the world beyond this realm. Let me say, I am not happy with the mood in this land. Dark currents stir beneath the surface. There are rumours of war. Preachers cry out for battle. the drums are being beaten and the flags are waved beneath our noses. And as always, there are those who respond without good judgement."

"Old comrade, they have not seen war as we have."

"I know, Sulak. I am troubled." They walked up the wide marble stairs, flanked by life-size statues of ancient heroes, until they were met by a ten year old in a black and silver uniform, bearing an ebony wand. The page bowed deeply and motioned for them to follow. Here, Tirado turned and walked back to rejoin his guard.

The three Tel Shai knights were escorted through an outer chamber where scholars and plaintiffs and barons sat on benches and waited their turn. Two guards with pikes stood by the huge double doors, which the page opened with some effort to usher them through. The throne room was immense, with high windows filled with stained glass. Many councillors and advisors rush back and forth. As they entered, Weaver unfastened his Black Angel helmet and tugged it off. He wondered how these people would react to seeing him. As far as he could tell, all the Melgarin were white.

"Psst. Sulak. Have these folks ever seen a brother?"

The Champion smiled easily. "Oh, they have seen Humans from every realm, my friend."

They were led to the far end of the chamber, where a throne stood on a raised dais of seven steps. On the high back of the throne was painted the white horse emblem in outline. The page dropped to one knee. "My liege," he called out, "may I present Sulak called Storm, Champion of Androval and his two companions."

Sulak went down on one knee, waiting to be recognized and Ethan and Weaver followed suit. As an American citizen, Weaver was not sure if he should do this for a foreign ruler but he thought it best to be polite.

"Rise," said Holmir. "You may approach us." He was a former general and warrior in his own right, still an impressive figure in his robes. A plain gold circlet with a white stone carved in the rearing horse served as crown, and he wore no jewelry other than a silver bracelet on his right wrist. His hair and beard were white, which in a Melgar indicated considerable age. His voice was stern as he studied the two strangers. "I did not summon these strangers."

"nay, sire. May I present two knights of the Order of Tel Shai, which is well known to us. This is Stephen Weaver and this is Ethan Petrov. I have brought them because I feel you may wish to question them."

The king was silent for an uncomfortable long time before saying, "I see no cowardice nor dishonor in their faces. Your judgement on men's hearts has always been sound, Sulak. Why does the one called Weaver wear those wings?"

Black Angel spoke before Sulak could intervene. "I have the gift of flight. They help me to steer, your honor. I mean, my liege."

For the first time, Holmir's expression softened and he raised an admonishing finger. "You are not a Melgar and so I am not your liege. It is correct to address me as 'your majesty.' "He gestured for Sulak to step closer and lowered his voice. "I know well only dark tidings could bring you to break in on my audience."

"I have come to tell you what befell me, sire.At sunrise this morning, my teammates and I were attacked in a dishonorable way, without warning or declarations. They wore shark-hide armor and bore tridents. My liege, they were Gelydrim from the Empire of Ulgor!" Faint gasps swept the chamber and whispers followed until Holmir stilled them with a glare.

"Speak on, I bid you," the king said.

"Their leader was Atron Ke, the Destroyer. He warned that war was near upon us as retribution for the Occupation. I left him a captive of my Tel shai teammates and came straightway here."

King Holmir scowled and clasped his hands before him. "The price of war is steep. In lives and misery is it paid, and the glory it wins seems a hollow song to me. I have watched fathers bury sons. Yet there are many in our land who say it is too long since Androval went to battle. What say you, Sulak?"

The Melgar Champion held up his open hands, palm upwards. "My lord, the memory of war is still heavy in my heart. What have we to gain by conflict with Ulgor? Our borders are secure behind the gralic barriers which Jordyn Himself wisely erected. Our fields are fertile, our people healthy and content. Ulgor has naught to tempt us. It is a cold, dark realm beneath the waves. Its people are unpleasant amphibians, kin to the shark. If our young men wish to test their courage, there are the tournaments and the games. What need have we of war?"

"One need not desire war to receive it," answered the king. "In truth, I agree with what you say. Androval has survived these many ages while kingdoms of Men rise and fall. And yet, shall the arrogance of Ulgor be countenanced? If we allow their aggression, are we not encouraging it?"

"I am no diplomat. I am but a humble gladiator who seeks to deserve the Gift of Malberon by using it well." Sulak folded his arms and thought for a second. "Allow me to speak plainly, for I have no silver tongue. I wish to go to Ulgor, with the army, accompanied only by my Tel Shai friends, to see what the Gelydrim plan. Then shall I report back."

"Very Melgar thing to say," beamed the king. "If any deserve the Legacy, it is one such as you. Go with my blessing and with the confession that I sorely wish I might go with you."

Sulak hesitated. "My liege, there is one more matter I must bring up. Yet I hesitate."

"Say the truth as best you know it, my foster-son."

"When we were beset by Atron's pack, one of the Gelydrim threw cyrinkyl upon me to weaken my superior ability. How did he come by this? Like travel crystals, only the immortal Eldarin can create the star-snow. A tiny portion of it they have allowed us to keep for dire need. Yet some made its way to Ulgor?"

Holmir raised a hand. "Speak no more. Say not the name that is on both our tongues. There is only one Melgar who could enter the royal vaults where the cyrinkyl was hidden, and only one who would cast aside honor to steal some of it. An exile, once dear to my heart but now a stray dog."

Sulak did not meet the king's grieving eyes. "It gives me no joy to bear this news, sire, yet it is my duty."

"Hear me, Sulak. These are my words. Go you to Ulgor, see what they plan and use your judgement. But hear me well. Do not slay my son Lankur, whatever his offenses. Judgement is in the hollow of my hand alone. Holmir does yet rule in Androval and all loyal Melgarin obey his lawful orders. Do I make myself clear?"

"I hear and obey, my king."

"Go then. Remember that you have always made me proud and our hopes go with you."

V.


The CORBY sped along over the ocean, low enough to be dizzying. Its lack of propellers did not seem to affect its flight at all, and an observor might conclude those rotors were just so the craft would be taken as a regular helicopter. In fact, its motive force came from a Trom impulse engine within the main body with two smaller engines in the short vanes on either side. Jeremy Bane sat in the pilot seat, hands on the control stick. In the co-pilot chair was Tang Ming, watching what he did and learning as she went. On one of the benches in the back, Jessica Frost sat quietly, gazing out the window.

"Far enough out to sea," said the Dire Wolf. He slowed to hover. "Ming, put your hand on the crystal and help me." They touched their fingertips to the Eldar gem in its setting on the console, and both concentrated. A flare of blue light blotted out everything and when their vision cleared, they saw water outside the windscreen. They were not deep, sunlight still came down from the surface to highlight fish.

"Ulgor should be dead ahead," Bane observed as he started the craft forward again.

"This is something I don't quite understand." Tang Ming stared out the windscreen at the greenish water. "Ulgor is under the ocean but it's also a seperate realm. How can it be both? It doesn't make sense."

Bane shrugged. "Teacher Shaw told us the adjacent realms were prepared by Jordyn at the end of the Darthan Age. Each is a self-enclosed small word. He called them pocket universes. There are about forty of them."

"Of course, to them our world would seem just another realm?"

"Not exactly. Our world, the real world, is the original. Jordyn created the adjacent realms circling the real world, and you can only reach them by god-gates." Bane made a scoffing noise. "To be honest, it's beyond me. I just think of them places that are hard to reach and for good reason."

Jessica Frost spoke for the first time since they had left Hawk Island. "What is that glowing green powder in the water?"

"Phosphorescent solution," Bane answered. "Alchemy. The Gelydrim manufacture it, it provides light and some warmth."

"Interesting," she said. "These are not fish I recognize."

Bane lowered the nose of the CORBY and slowed. "There it is." Visible in the green light was a huge plateau on the ocean floor, a three mile mountain of rock fused to the sea bottom by the will of Jordyn ages ago. A walled city on a high ledge of the mountain was flanked by two much smaller settlements: Ulgor itself and the once-independent New Ulgor, which had been reabsorbed. At the windows and doors were faces of people who breathed underwater, all watching this strange vessel gliding toward their city.

As the CORBY slowed to a halt over Ulgor, one hundred armed Gelydrim swam quickly up to meet it. Despite their lacquered armor and weapons, they darted up through the water as only aquatic creatures can. Bane stood up, reached for a molden air tank and strapped it to his back. Ming and Frost did the same. While the air tanks fed into the helmets, Ming had to place a helmet on as well. "120 minutes of air," Bane said, "do you each have the oxygen membrane masks just in case?" They nodded yes, and he set the CORBY to hover. As he did this, a short javelin hissed through the water and clanged off the hull. Instants later, the Ulgorans were chopping at the hatches with their swords and axes.

"Jessica, this is your area. Being underwater will increase your power tremendously. I want you to immobilize everyone that attacks us. Freeze blocks of ice around their arms, freeze their legs together. Try not to kill them. Understood?"

"I understand, captain." Frost went to the windscreen and stared out. Enclosed in the black helmet, her pale skin seemed even fairer,almost albino. Her crystal blue eyes narrowed as she drew on her ability and siphoned away heat wherever she choose. One after the other, the Gelydrim sank with their arms or legs suddenly encased in rough blocks of solid ice. The screams of pain and fear echoed through the water. After a few minutes, she turned to face Bane. "I have them all."

Bane closed the visor on his helmet and stepped toward the back. As Ming and Frost followed, he closed the cabin door behind them. "We'll have to flood the rear compartment for now, but I want to keep the cabin dry if we can." Turning to the hatch, he opened it and water rushed in. As it reached their head level, he swam out and his teammates followed. As they made their way down toward the walled city, more guards appeared and Frost took care of them as well. In the open air, her power to create ice was limited by the available moisture but down here, she could have entombed the entire city in a glacier. After that, no one stood in their way. Faces disappeared,doors and windows slammed shut and the city of Ulgor seemed to be deserted.

The armor and weaponry in their suits helped counteract the natural buoyancy of Bane and Frost, but Ming had to work at heading down. They swam toward the largest and most impressive building, not a palace but some sort of parliament judging by the rows of windows and statue of Grelok by the main entrance. The three Tel Shai knights landed by that entrance, were met by another half dozen armed guards and Frost froze them to the ground. She put blocks of ice around their weapons as well, and even with vigorous effort they would not be getting free any time soon. A faint smile showed on her face for the first time Bane could remember since her transformation.

"Good work, Jessica," he said through the helmet communications. "Any underwater missions, I'm bringing you."

The Dire Wolf led his team through the entrance. They were getting used to seeing weird fish swim by and to seeing by the eerie green light of the floating powder. Ulgor was in shallow enough water that the pressure was not a problem. They marched quickly through a reception room and Tang Ming suddenly took charge. Her perception led her down a long hallway that opened to a room filled with Gelydrim standing over tables. Through her helmet, Ming said, "Jeremy, the one in the red robe is the warlock. I can feel his gralic force."

Bane recognized Demrak Sum as a Gelydra of the classic type. He had blue-white skin, bulging eyes, two long thin mustaches that reminded him of a catfish. The warlock wore a tunic and boots of grey sharkhide, with a woven red robe of some oiled fabric over it. He was tall for one of his Race. As he saw the strange intruders, he reached out a hand for a sword that rested on a chair beside him and he jumped as he saw it suddenly encased in thick opaque ice.

Jessica Frost actually smiled at the surprise on his face. Maybe her emotions were coming back.

"Demrak Sum," Bane announced. "This is no occasion for polite talk. We must be blunt. As a knight of the Order of Tel Shai, I take it upon myself to intervene with your plans."

"What authority does Tel Shai have over us?" sneered the warlock. "You are out of order."

"Ask Atron Ke if you can. He is our prisoner, along with the squad you sent to kill Sulak. I intend to turn them over to Androval."

"What? Am I to understand that an alliance exists between Tel Shai and Androval?" Demrak Sum seemed indignant.

"Not in the sense you mean," Bane said. "Tel Shai is not a nation but a school. I cannot speak for what the Teachers may decide but I speak for the knights. However, let me remind you that the Melgarin are in a sense the children of the Eldarin of Elvedal. Their power is matched only by the Darthim, who would not stand with you against them."

Demrak Sum raised a clenched fist in a melodramatic gesture. "Do not be sure. As a worshipper of Grelok, I have studied under the Kjes. I am a warlock. Can you be certain that Maroch is not the ally of Ulgor?"

"Because I know that Maroch is divided among itself. The Kjes scheme and backstab. Their intrigues leave no room for any alliances which do not benefit them."

"Let us discuss motives, then. Why should your Order interfere? We have no designs on Tel Shai. We seek only restitution for the wrongs done us during the Occupation. Do you not serve Justice?"

The Dire Wolf shook his head and his voice grew sterner. "I hate war. I hate to see wars start which can be averted. Androval has no intention of repeating its expansionist ways of fify years ago. At some point, we have to let go of old grudges. We have to get over it and get on with life."

"Easy for you to say! An American living in luxury and safety in the real world. Hear me, Dire Wolf. Do with Atron as you will. He knew the risks. You and your two handmaidens may leave in safety and never return."

"All right then," Bane said quietly. "Jessica.. Ming.. make sure no one interferes. We are going to have two hostages for Androval to use in negotiations." With the last word, he lunged forward and threw the fastest punch they had ever seen. Even against the water resistance, his fist snapped with brutal force to the point of Demrak's jaw and the warlock reeled to fall in a heap. "Keep me covered," Bane said as he bent to lift the stunned Gelydra by his tunic.

Hauling the warlock with him, the Dire Wolf hurried to the door. Frost immobilized two more Gelydra by freezing their legs together. Ming kept watch. All three Tel Shai knights made it to the entrance and began swimming upward as quickly as possible. Through the helmet system, Bane said, "Ming, get the hatch open." They got Demrak inside and sealed the hatch behind them. Bane threw a lever and pumps began emptying the rear compartment of water. It took a few minutes, during which the warlock started to stir. Ming tilted the man's head to one side and pressed down hard on a nerve center. "He'll be out for the next twenty minutes, captain."

As the rear compartment drained, Bane opened the cabin door and slid into the pilot seat. "Ming, keep an eye on him. Jessica, take the co-pilot chair." He swung the CORBY around and accelerated away from Ulgor at cruising speed. After a few minutes, he reached for the Eldar crystal and Frost helped him. Blue light flashed and the CORBY shuddered as it went from the sea of Ulgor to the Atlantic Ocean not far from Maine.

"Back within fifty miles of Hawk Island," Frost said as she checked the instruments. "Captain, something troubles me."

"What's that?" Bane asked as he set the course home.

"We have not prevented a possible war. We have given Androval two valuable hostages, but the loss of Atron and Demrak is not enough to stop Ulgor from launching an invasion. There are other warlocks and other military leaders."

"No, you are right." Bane let out a breath. "At best, we have gained some time. But there still might be an invasion of Androval in a year or two."

From the rear, tugging off her helmet, Tang Ming said as if to herself, "I wish there was an end to war."

Bane said quietly, "Wiser minds than ours have tried to find a way."

5/27/2013