Another Bastard Son
“Give me a hand, damn you, boys,” Rogan barked at Javan and Jasper-Thal. He stood staring at the cocoon, as the Helvectia beast thrust one arm from the webbing and flexed.
Jasper-Thal shook his head. “What exactly do you want us to do?”
“Ask Javan,” Rogan said. “He’s more knowledgeable about these things than me. And why do you sound more in control of your wits than when we were imprisoned together?”
“I got better. But need I remind you that even if we survive this day, the one true God will soon flood this Earth?”
Rogan scowled. “Now you sound more like yourself.”
Another long arm ripped free of the webbing. A chittering noise emerged from the cocoon, almost drowning out the sounds of pounding at the door. The bar rattled in its hasps as an axe blade bit through the wood.
“The soldiers have almost broken through,” Algeniz warned.
“Sire,” Javan said, “I do not know if this demon can be caged by the star any longer.”
“Then let’s kill the bitch before it gets free.”
Brandishing his sword, Rogan crossed over the blood lines and stalked into the center of the sigil. Javan, Algeniz, and Jasper-Thal glanced at each other. Then, Javan followed his uncle into the star. Cringing, Algeniz did the same.
“Stay behind your cousin, girl,” Rogan cautioned.
“I shall protect you, Princess,” Jasper-Thal whispered.
“I do not require your protection,” she snapped.
The cocoon split along its length, and the Helvectia tumbled out, weak and mewling. Its wings were plastered to its back, still wet and dripping with mucous. It tried to stand on wobbly, spider-like legs, but then fell back to the floor. It raised an elongated head and gazed at Rogan and his kin with yellow, red-rimmed eyes. Then it reached for them, tentatively, almost gently.
“It is different now,” Algeniz observed, her voice hushed with wonder. “It not only looks different—it behaves differently, as well.”
“It …” Javan gaped. “It’s like an infant.”
“I’ve killed babies before,” Rogan said, raising his sword. “They die easy.”
Before he could deliver the blow, the doors crashed open in an explosion of splinters and shards of wood. A dozen bellowing soldiers rushed into the temple, charging forward with weapons drawn. They stumbled and fell silent when they saw the Helvectia, but were relentlessly pushed forward as more of their comrades tried to enter.
Squawking with fright, Jasper-Thal retreated into the confines of the star. He glanced back and forth between the demon and the enemy troops. The blood drained from his face.
“This thing is an affront to God!”
“Makes me wonder why He created it, then.” Rogan tossed his sword from hand to hand, eyeing the onrushing troops.
With a noise like an enraged elephant, the Helvectia tottered to its feet, towering over all in the room. It seemed to have forgotten about the three men standing closest to it, and focused instead on the soldiers. With more forces pushing through the doorway, the warriors in the front of the charge had no choice but to step over the lines of the star. Roaring, the Helvectia spread its wings, nearly knocking Rogan to the floor. Claws extended, it stomped toward the soldiers.
“Quickly,” Rogan whispered, motioning to Javan, Algeniz, and Jasper-Thal. “This way.”
The four of them ran to the other side of the sigil and stepped outside of its confines. While the Helvectia tore through the cluster of troops spilling into the star, Rogan and Javan flanked the edges of the room, cutting down any soldier who came their way. Jasper-Thal stood at the rear of the temple, watching in horror as both man and demon butchered and hacked. Algeniz positioned herself in front of him, as if to protect the heretic. Steel rang. Arrows flew. Talons shredded and tore. Men died, shrieking as their blood sprayed. When it was over, the floor ran red, obscuring the lines of the star.
“Now for this thing,” Rogan rasped. Turning his attention back to the Helvectia.
The beast turned at the sound of his voice, and cocked its head. It made a trilling noise in the back of its throat, and then began to lick the blood from its claws.
“It’s afraid to attack me,” Rogan boasted.
“No, sire.” Javan’s tone was one of astonishment. “I think it … it sees you as its master, perhaps?”
“Me? I didn’t summon this fucking thing. This is all Papa Bon Deux’s work.”
“I am not a wizard,” Javan replied, “and I don’t pretend to understand the ways of Damballah’s magic, but based on what I remember from university, and on Papa Bon Deux and Maman Ezili’s boastings, and judging by its own indifference to us, I would say this creature obeys you. Maybe because you were the first thing it saw when it emerged from the cocoon? Maybe it thinks you gave it these soldiers as sacrifice? Maybe it views you as its father.”
“Another bastard son?”
“Or maybe …” Javan trailed off.
“Or maybe what? Spit it out, lad.”
“Or maybe there is something of Akibeel still left inside, sire.”
Rogan was quiet for a moment, surveying the Helvectia. Then he cleared his throat. The creature turned its attention back to him again. Rogan shivered.
“Do you understand me?”
Slowly, the Helvectia nodded.
“And you serve me?”
The beast made a sound like a cross between purring and cooing.
“You see these men on the floor? The ones we just killed?”
The creature glanced down at the mutilated corpses and then back up at Rogan. The old barbarian gestured with his sword at the smashed doorway.
“You go out there and kill anyone you see that looks like them. Understand me? Kill them all. Then, and only then, you may go freely into the world and find your fate.”
Grunting, the creature raised its head and roared, seeming to shake the temple’s rafters. Then, in two long bounds, it crossed over the now blood-covered lines of the star and lunged toward the door. Pausing only to squeeze its bulk through the opening, it stepped into the courtyard, spread its wings, and took flight.
“What have you done?” Jasper-Thal gasped. “You have unleashed an abomination upon the world. What happens when it is finished with Rohain’s soldiers?”
“His name is not Rohain,” Algeniz said. “He is Karza, perverting the flesh of my brother.”
Ignoring her, Jasper-Thal kept his attention on Rogan. “Do you know how many innocents will die because of what you’ve done?”
Rogan shrugged. “If the gods don’t want their followers killed, then they should have stopped me.”
“There is but one God,” Jasper-Thal argued.
“I could name hundreds if my mind were clear, but who cares? You are young and will not mind me any more than Algeniz does.”
“You’ve seen the works of the devil in this Damballah. Why is it you refuse to believe in a God?”
“Never said I didn’t believe in one. If your God is upset with me, then let Him come to me, just like all the others. I’ll kill Him, too.”
Jasper-Thal stood speechless as Rogan crept toward the door. Javan and Algeniz followed after him. Shoulders slumped in resignation, slunk along behind them. They walked out into the courtyard, emerging into the sounds of a city under attack. Javan scurried up a fruit tree and looked out over the streets and alleyways.
“What do you see?” Rogan called.
“Soldiers fleeing. Some holding positions. Regular folk running around in panic, like ants.”
“Wodan be praised,” Algeniz sighed.
Rogan tousled her hair and smiled. “More like Thyssen, Boone and Andraste be praised.”
“It’s madness,” Jasper-Thal proclaimed.
“It’s life,” Rogan countered. “It’s war. Death. The natural ending for all things is death. Who knows? Maybe we will see what mine looks like before the sun sets. Be ready, yours may be waiting for you today, as well.”
Javan climbed back down. “Karza will realize his wizard is dead soon.”
“Aye.” Rogan stared out across the city, toward the palace. “Upon everyone’s life, a little pain must fall. Heh. My father used to say that. Do you hear it, Javan? Do you hear it, Algeniz? Do you hear the call from your blood? Can you hear a thousand warriors in your veins, marching, demanding a fight? Can you hear the call to battle?”
Both of them nodded.
“These traitors corrupted everything I hold dear.” Rogan’s eyes narrowed. “They’ve defiled my blood and the ones I love. But there is still one left to deal with.”
Javan readied his bow. “You will not face him alone, sire.”
“I must.” Rogan paused. “But you three can come along, if you like. I could use a cheering section.”
They started across the courtyard and down a winding path through the garden, that led to a gate in the walls. Rogan glanced back at the former temple of Rhiannon.
“Wish we could burn it to the ground,” he muttered.
“What would that solve?” Jasper asked.
Rogan shrugged. “It would make me feel better. It would bring me joy.”
He then opened the gate and stepped out onto the city streets, jogging toward the palace. The three youths followed him at a distance.