The Gift of Volkeye (49 page)

“Bless you, man…where are these sons of yours?”

“Boys!” Peenuhs called. A uniformed line of ten men stormed in as the shield let up. It was as if they’d waited to make exactly this type of entrance. They stopped at attention directly in front of their father. “Introduce yourselves.”

“Seth.”

“Sedrick.”

“Sonny.”

“Simayel.”

“Simion.”

“Siral.”

“Sowng.”

“Serum.”

“Samson.”

“Samuel.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Zynathian said, turning around to the massive crowd, hoping to set an example of courage. “Everyone…Peenuhs Dickery and sons!”

Peenuhs received nothing but snickers.

“Laugh at my name, if you will…it’s been happening all my life. But know this, I have an instrument betwixt my thighs that will put all you men to shame! You, who won’t even fight for your homes and future generations of children; you dare call yourselves ‘
men?’ Bah! Pathetic, all of you! All Zynathian asks is for you to have courage…is this so hard? He had the same amount of courage for you, if not ten times more, to risk his life and the lives of his family to bring you here safely. Can you give nothing in return? You should all be ashamed of yourselves! I’m disgusted with the whole lot of you, and I’m the one who’s the drunk! Ironic, eh?”

Peenuhs waved his hand at all of them and then beckoned his wife, who was standing against the wall.

“Daphnie, come. Boys,” he said, looking all ten of them sternly in the eye, “you’ll do whatever this man asks, ya’ hear me? He’s the only reason you all exist. I won’t get into the details, but know right now that you all owe him your lives. Understood?”

They nodded.

“Good.”

As Daphnie and Peenuhs left the banquet hall, Zynathian turned to look at the fine young men before him. The oldest was twenty-seven years of age, with thirteen years of military training, and the youngest was eighteen years old, with four. People like them could make all the difference in the upcoming battle.

“Your help is much appreciated,” Zynathian said, shaking all of their hands. He then turned to face the rest of the crowd.

“All of you, who are willing to help, come forward and meet with me. Tomorrow we’ll get you set up with weapons and start some intensive training. That, I’m certain these fine young lads will know how to conduct much better than me,” Zynathian said, implying that the Dickery boys could run the whole show if they liked. Each of them seemed quite pleased at the prospect.

Nicolas, Rosa Lee, and Rufus, along with those who’d already fought in Rhameeryla, came forward. Then, to Zynathian’s surprise, came others—a great many. Although Peenuhs was a drunk, his speech had obviously been the very thing they needed to hear. From the sheer number of people crowding him, Zynathian guessed that they’d at least be able to match the number of Phyllamon’s army.

But will that be enough?

If Phyllamon’s troops got close enough, they’d likely cut them to pieces, ten at a time! They themselves only had three with such power: Khyeryn, Lyn Sha, and Teshunua. Zynathian knew then that there was no way they’d be able to match the brute strength of the force Phyllamon was bringing.

If we’re to win, we must outsmart them.

Zynathian’s stomach churned with nausea at the fact that he hadn’t yet conceived a real plan beyond this point. However, he knew that all was not lost. If life had taught him anything thus far, it was the fact that there was no weapon as powerful as the human mind.

1

S
ure enough, it was about three weeks and four days later when Murlach burst into Phyllamon’s study. “Master, we’re ready!” he said, eagerly. “Come and see this glorious army of yours!”

Phyllamon had left Murlach to his work for almost a month, completely trusting him with the process. During this time, he’d mostly been alone, thinking about how he would handle the hostages in Mashyuvah. Just recently he’d decided to spare a few of their lives. He knew that witnessing the murder of their loved ones wouldn’t be an act that went unmentioned. They would undoubtedly flee somewhere on the other side of the Mashyuvian Ocean, and the story would travel with them, enabling Phyllamon to control people through fear. Yes, some of the hostages would have to be spared.

Zephranie, however, put up a nasty fuss about this, for she hadn’t murdered in ages and was adamant that every single one of them die by her hand. Besides, after seeing her house burned to ashes, she was aching for bloodshed, and it would be all the better if it came from people that Zynathian cared about. As Phyllamon followed Murlach, he prepared himself for another argument with Zephranie, because she’d been nagging him constantly over the last couple of weeks, as to when she’d get to do her deed in Mashyuvah.

After getting their winter garments on, they went out the giant oak doors in the front hall to the frosted-over, flowerless garden. Phyllamon was shocked at the spectacle. Seeing one large beast armed with Zynathian’s weapon was one thing, but seeing about two hundred of them was something else! The most magnificent of them all stood off to the side, pacing about. Phyllamon’s mouth fell open as he gazed at Zu. Vlajdimir and Zephranie had gone over to stare as well.

“Splendid, aren’t I?” he asked Zephranie and Vlajdimir in an unusually articulate fashion. It was rare for them to come into contact with beasts in the castle that were more than mere brutes. He impressed them. Zu fired off a few rounds in the air and watched the middle of the weapon spin around its axle. It mesmerized him like it would a child.

“Splendid indeed,” Zephranie replied. “I shall be anxious to hear of what you accomplish on the battlefield!”

Zephranie turned and found Phyllamon inspecting the rest of his army.

“Excellent job, Murlach! How many?” he asked.

“One-hundred-ninety-three, the last I counted, master. Enough?” Murlach asked with pride.

Phyllamon grinned, nodding. “We’re going to crush them!” he said, glancing at Zu once more. “You’ll annihilate them, won’t you, Zu?”

“Looking forward to it, Master. I owe them for that little mishap in the last assault!” he roared. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be retiring to think on my battle tactics…and don’t worry, Master, we can handle the walk,” Zu yelled over his shoulder as he started back towards the castle.

The walk?
Phyllamon thought to himself, waving Murlach over. “What’s this about a walk?”

“He means exactly what he said, Master. Don’t worry, you and I don’t have to go on foot, as I did save a few small hovers for emergencies.”

As Phyllamon scratched his head, unibrow furrowing, Murlach began to wonder if he’d made a gross error. “You did tell me I could use every
available piece of metal to complete the weapons, did you not?” he asked, looking to the floor.

“YOU SCRAPPED ALL OUR VEHICLES?!”

“…and melted them down...along with the majority of the castle’s silverware,” he answered nervously. “But look at the weapons we’ve made! Was it not worth it?”

“Murlach, Murlach, Murlach…I expect you to have more common sense than this! Damn it, I knew it was a mistake to not check in on you!”

“Without it, Sire, we wouldn’t have two thirds of the soldiers we have now. I plain and simply didn’t have a sufficient amount of materials,” he said, shrugging. “You’re rich…why not buy new ones?”

Phyllamon sighed. “Because, unlike small hovers, combat vehicles are much more difficult to find on short notice, fool! What if the soldiers need to retreat for some reason?”

“It’s unlikely that such a force will be defeated, Master…especially with Zu and our aerial attackers.”

“We have some that fly?”

“Yes, but they’re skinny little things. Even though I made their weapons much smaller, they’re still having a difficult time adapting to them. However, they’ll soon be ready, as I completed their operation over three weeks ago, and they’ve been resting since.”

Though pleased with these newly mentioned aerial soldiers, Phyllamon remained quiet a moment, still coming to grips with what Murlach had done.

All he had to do was come to me and say…but nooooo! he thought, sighing. Alas, Murlach will be Murlach.

“Your error is forgiven as long as you think they can handle the walk. You do realize it’s at least thirty five to forty miles to Rhylix—the northern most town in the Trio—but that’s only
after they’ve trudged through the dense
Forest of
Saint Marcleese
! That bit would be a much easier task for them if we had air vessels, but seeing as we don’t…”

“It will be fine, Master,” Murlach said with more than a hint of irritation.

Phyllamon rolled his eyes and looked to the trees. For a moment, he could’ve sworn he saw a strange cat leering at him from behind some branches. However, when he blinked it was gone. He thought a shadow must’ve deceived him.

“All right, it looks like we’re set,” Phyllamon said.

“And what of me and Vlajdimir?” Zephranie asked.

“On that day, you, Vlajdimir, go back to your ruin of a house and search it for the safe you kept your precious Arhyz in. If I have to hear you pout over that safe once more, I’ll lose my mind. I’d rather have you locate it and discover the nature of its contents, for better or worse, than listen to you whine over your piddly fortune!” Phyllamon snapped, turning to Zephranie.

“You, Zephranie, will handle your business in Mashyuvah, letting a few of them go as we discussed. Make sure the hostages you free are young, healthy, and not likely to die of anything while spreading the word about me.”

Phyllamon turned back to the castle.

“We march at dawn, in three days time!”

2

They’re going to be on foot! That’s it!
Zynathian thought.

For weeks now, he’d stretched his brain thin, trying to devise a manner in which to come at Phyllamon. Now he had an idea. Zynathian exited the Igloo’s Main Control and rushed to converse with the Dickery boys and the other fighters. Asha, however, remained behind a moment staring at the screen.

Zynathian had bounced the signal from their home in the clouds all the way down here. This way they could still monitor Castle Xyecah, as they desperately searched for a means by which to fight Phyllamon. Their surveillance was round the clock. All those who didn’t want to fight but still desired to help in some fashion, were individually stationed at the monitor in four-hour shifts, reporting anything out of the ordinary. Asha often went in, pretending to check on them, but that really wasn’t the reason for her visits. She wanted to get a better look at the woman she’d not seen in over twenty years…not since she’d sent her sailing across a desktop with busted lips and a partially swollen jaw!

This had been bothering Asha ever since Jix started capturing Vlajd and Zephranie on camera. Though she’d replayed
the event a countless amount of times in her mind over the years, she’d never given much thought to Zephranie’s appearance. However, now that Asha was seeing her again, it was absolutely frightening how much Zephranie and Bahzee looked alike! They were identical down to the last detail, the only difference being that Zephranie had a worn out, sickly look to her, while Bahzee’s face was healthy and colourful.

Despite the manner in which she’d found Bahzee, Asha knew there was no way in hell her daughter could’ve come from this woman’s womb. It was impossible!

It’s nothing more than a freak coincidence
, she thought, running from the control room to catch up with Zynathian. Asha found him in a heated conversation with the oldest Dickery boy. The rest of the family and all the other fighters listened intently, weighing the pros and cons.

“Why don’t we just attack him at the castle and take him by surprise?” Seth asked.

“No, Seth, we’d be the ones caught by surprise. We know for sure that Phyllamon has two of the blasters outdoors, but who knows whether or not Jix has missed anything? Bless his heart, but he can’t do everything…he’s kept his eyes mostly on Phyllamon and those close to him, but
not
the surroundings! We could be running into a dozen of those guns, all of them manned and ready to cut us to pieces! Our best bet is to let them run smack into us, catching them off guard!”

“Where then?”

“We’ll take them at
Saint Marcleese
,” Zynathian answered.

The other Dickery boys shook their heads with approval. Seth rubbed his chin, thinking on it.

“And our cover will be the trees. When they get close enough, thinking they’re about to enter the forest unharmed, we let loose on them!” Seth grinned. “It’s an excellent idea, Zynathian. Are you sure you were never a soldier?”

Zynathian just grinned at him. “Not technically a soldier…but I never said that I hadn’t fought any battles before,” he said, thinking of his past. “There is much that you all don’t know about me. Perhaps I’ll tell you some of my stories if I live through the weekend,” he said.

The family gazed at him, wanting to hear more but knew it wasn’t the time.

“Uncle, what are we going to do about this
Zu?” Teshunua asked.

“Yeah, that one has got me right scared, I tell you,” Rufus said, fidgeting in his hoverchair, “I shot him numerous times, and I couldn’t take him down!”

Seth nodded, having the same sentiments. “And if Murlach’s winged beasts attack while we’re dealing with him, we’re…”

“…doomed,” Asha finished.

“That is why we must be very organized, making sure that not one person deviates from their tasks,” Zynathian said, looking to each of them, assessing their strengths.

“Lyn Sha, your speed and leaping ability will be a great asset in the coming battle. You’re the only one who could run circles around Zu. When he appears, use your ability to laser him from every possible direction, understand?”

She nodded.

“Teshunua, you do the same. You may not be anywhere near as fast as Lyn, but your speed can easily match that of a cheetah, not to mention, your exceptional leaping ability. Dart back and forth on the battlefield and assault him whenever possible. If, for a second, you notice Lyn is out of the way, let loose on him with that pulse cannon of yours.”

Teshunua nodded, and the Dickery boys stared at him with admiration, for they all knew what an outstanding fighter he’d be from seeing him practice outdoors. All his abilities combined, easily made him the most powerful in their group.

“Khyeryn, you back up the Dickery boys…Sing Tzi Yi, Asha, and Nicolas—our sharpshooters—you’ll race back and forth on hoverpods, sniping every enemy possible, as well as watching the backs of those on our side. It won’t be easy to keep your eyes on the entire battlefield at once, so you must split the task. One of you watch the front; another, the middle; and someone else, the back end of the field.”

Zynathian stared upwards a moment, wondering if he was leaving anything out. Deciding that he hadn’t forgotten anything critical, he continued on the subject of ‘in-battle’ communication.

“You’ll all be wearing comlink devices on your wrists, but it’ll be the sharpshooters responsibility to get word back to the ship for Mechs to come gather the wounded. After all, they’ll be higher up than everyone else and able to see more.”

Zynathian now addressed Rosa Lee and several others. “Stay within the trees and mow down the enemies that try to get through. Rufus, you’re in a hoverchair, so you and Maugrimm take to the skies. Help out Lyn and Teshunua with Zu if they need it, but mostly be on the lookout for the winged creatures.”

Lastly, Zynathian addressed Bahzee. “You’ll have your own little setup near battleground…would you prefer rocks or trees?”

“Both, if you can manage.”

“It’ll be done. However, it’s pertinent that you use your comlink wisely and alert everyone each time you’re about to strike. You don’t want to accidentally kill anyone who’s on our side. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Papa,” she said, looking to him in a worried fashion.

Though Bahzee knew Zynathian was a fighter, she was also aware that he liked to use guns about as much as she did. How would he protect himself? He had no special powers or weapon skills as they did, but she knew that he’d be somewhere risking his life that day, all the same!

Crazy Papa Zynnie…what does he intend to do in this fight? His IQ won’t help in the face of danger. They’re going to put a blaster to his head and spray his IQ all over the place!
she thought, exasperated. Still, Bahzee knew that asking him to not do whatever it was that he was planning would’ve been the greatest insult she could utter. Zynathian had to be Zynathian.

“And how about you, Papa Zynnie? What are your plans? They’re undoubtedly more risky than anything we must do,” she said.