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Rated: E · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #1856340
This prologue describes what happened at Myrocenia
Word Count 2050

Prologue:  Essence and the Stones

P,1:  Rogoletti and Tropolov have their last conversation.

P,2:  Attack on Myrocenia

The two commanders walked from the tent where the war council was just breaking up.  They put on their cladded helmets and breathed deeply the cold  air.

“So tonight we roll the bones,” said Vlad, with his usual gallows humor.  His role had come as no surprise and his company had been practicing for months.  They would fall on the resupply wagons and pretend to be part of the Empire Security Forces.  In this guise they would attempt to breach the gate.

“You’ve drawn a hard lot,  said Rogoletti, who commanded the Rangers.  “Taking the gate won’t be easy.”

“Nothing about this mission is going to be easy,” replied his cousin.  “Timing is everything Vinny…We’ll breach the gate but won’t be able to hold it forever.  Don’t be dragging your feet.

“We’ll be waiting for your signal…. The distance from the tree line to the fortress is over I mile.  This is going to be one hell of a sprint.  Elven-humes are long of foot but still flesh and bone.”

Vladimir chuckled.  He was a huge man.  The younger the son of Morgoth, a blue blood, and his mother, Miriam, a Coven Witch.  In earlier times he would have been regarded a bastard, but the expedient of interbreeding was becoming a common and necessary measure to preserve the race.  Many said it watered down the seed but one had only to look at the progeny to see the program was working.

Vlad took his Kinsman by the shoulder.  In a low voice, strained with distaste, he whispered, “If things don’t go well, look to my wife and daughter …”  It was an uncharacteristic display that amounted to weakness and Vincent was both touched and surprised that his friend chose to share it.

“You’ll be doing that yourself, when this is over… Still, have no fear, whatever the outcome, I’ll never be wanting in your trust.”

Vald grunted and the two embraced.  There was a five mile march ahead and three more for the Special Operations troops to get positioned.

“Gods keep you safe, said Rogoletti and the two separated and went their ways.

Cpt Rogoletti lay in the tall grasses beneath a canopy of trees looking out at  Myrocena.  It sat on the end of a finger of bluffs that extended twenty miles into the Free Territories.  For years nobody paid the settlement much attention until the Republic decided to build a fort .  At first it wasn’t much more than a trading post with a palisade, but every year there were improvements until it became a well fortified base.  Inside towered a Keep that rose over thirty feet into the air.  It sat on the high ground astride the main road from Tristan City to the border of Kismet Province.     

He awaited impatiently for the signal, yet when it came, the finality took him by surprise.  It was both an exciting and dreadful moment.

He stood, raised his sword and cried out “Forward!”  As one, the company arose and began moving at a March Cadence.  “Quick-Time March!” he ordered and the pace hastened as the line dressed and covered in four ranks of one-hundred men.  As the battle lines firmed he gave the anticipated command…. “Double-time March” 

They had a mile to cover at a sustained pace never before attempted.  They would be winded when they arrived and still expected to face a determined enemy.  With pride he saw the ranks hold and move forward at the fast measured pace.  On the walls he noted a flurry of activity and heard the blowing of the horns. Those will be summoning the Empire’s elite Guard to the battlements.  He could see the lead wagon wedged in the gate and the SOF Commandoes swarming into the breach.  Behind him, now pouring from the woods was the Heavy Infantry, carrying their pikes and siege ladders. 

Vincent had never know his mother.  She was a Valley Woman… beautiful his father once told him with red eyes.  All the Valley Women had red eyes it seemed… Only a few were Witches but they all had red eyes.  She returned to her husband once the birthing was accomplished.  His father,Rupert, had been childless and was surprised to be handed a son.  Not over-joyed (Vincent was a “Breed,” after all, but a half a loaf, Rupert was fond of saying…)  Sir Rupert was old, even by elf standards at the time and  had served the Four Kings in the Great Rebellion.  He died in a nameless border skirmish when Vinny was seven.

They were half way across the clearing and his Rangers were well ahead of the main body.  The fighting at the gate was getting a lot of attention.  The defenders could see clearly the Confederation’s plan was and fought with a ferocity born of desperate men.

Vincent had gone when his father died to the Estate of Morgoth Tropolof, his Uncle and had been raised with Vladimir.  They were the same age and background and nobody ever disparaged their parentage.  Indeed the two boys were so endowed physically, they were treated with reverence and awe.

As he reached the Wagon there remained but a small contingent of the original force.  They were circled around their fallen commander.  As his men swarmed to link up, Vincent saw the vacant stare in Vlad’s eyes and knew there was no hope.  Whatever premonition he'd received had been born out by the events.  The adrenaline choked back any opportunity for emotion.  Later, in the aftermath of battle, it would visit him with a terrible anguish.

As they swarmed inside he secured a broader perimeter and braced for the counter attack.  It came almost at once and the fighting was renewed in a close combat of swords, pikes and heavy cross-bows.  Wave after wave of Guardsmen were cut down by the arrows and those that closed were met hand to hand. For the eternity of ten minutes the issue hung in doubt until the heavy infantry showed up and poured inside.  By this time his company was reduced to little more than a platoon of able men.  These he gathered and they entered the Citadel, fighting their way up the stairs of the tower keep.

Intelligence gained from captives told of something secretive taking place on the second floor and his secondary mission was to find out and secure the evidence.  Lieutenant Vanderweld sprinted up the stairs and disappeared down the corridor with half his command.  The Other half spread out into the main chamber which had served as an operations center.  The walls were covered in maps, there were tables where breakfast had been served and chairs strewn in disarray.  Rogoletti walked around noting the trove of intelligence they had just captured.

The Lieutenant returned in short order.  “Sir, please  come quickly…you aren’t going to believe this.”

“What is it,?” Rogo asked but already the junior officer was heading up to the second level. The first thing the Captain saw was two dead guardsmen and a huge golden haired beast run through by half a dozen pikes.  Further down the hall three more guardsmen lay dead and two more of the hairy gorilla like creatures.  One had breasts and looked to be female.  However, most amazingly, their heads all had pointed ears.  He passed a huge wood door surrounded by more dead apes and guardsman.  There had been a skirmish here minutes earlier.

A sergeant ran breathless down the stairs from the roof.  “We killed the last of them," he said gesturing upwards, "and I think we’ve discovered their secret."

"Go on…“ replied Rogoletti his voice sharp with anticipation.

"It’s a listening post Sir… a psychic listening post… Like the young Blue Girls operate.  They have tables and vantage points set up, a large compass and those apparatus with gem optics for long range communications."

Vincent scratched his head in disbelief….”Since when does the Empire have a psychic capability? ” he wondered out loud.”

“I believe the answer to that,” replied the Lieutenant, “is behind that door down below.” 

Vincent hastened down stairs and put his ear on the massive oak portal held by steel straps and fastened with rivets of cast iron. 

open the door this instant flashed a directive into his mind. 

He’d been on the receiving end of telepathic commands enough to know their nature, but had never “heard” one given with such force and clarity, not to mention through  a thick wooden door.  And further it had more the tone of a whisper than a shout.  Taking a deep breath he projected as he’d been trained to do.  He visualized the beam being lifted from the containment bracket inside.  His efforts were rewarded when he heard scraping and the sound of the brace falling to the floor.  Holding his breath he pushed and the door open.  What he saw was totally unanticipated.  Before him stood a defiant looking girl of about seven years age, protecting five other infants, who were looking around from behind her skirts.  Her eyes gleamed, lips were curled and she snarled, hissing hissing at him.

Rogoletti stood frozen in his tracks and hollered back to Sergeant Hollis. 

“My god, these are baby elves; Weird looking but honest to god baby elves.””

The other five peered out from behind, their eyes glowing, spitting like fire.

“OH my god,” uttered the Platoon Sergeant….“this explains the ruckus in the corridor.”

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Rogo said in a soothing tone. “I swear to god we aren’t” not certain if they understood or not.

“They’re mind readers,” warned the Lieutenant, “I feel the prickle inside my head…”  My sister has that same signature when she’s nosing around.”  He stepped forward giving the hands up sign, universal for “We come in peace…”

We’re not stupid came the voiceless response… and you better not try anything if your know what’s good for you.

Are we going to kill them Bedelia? came a silent question?

Not yet answered the voice of authority. Now hush up.

The lieutenant backed up clearly shaken.  We are not your enemy he visualized, We are not your enemy.

I know who you are, came the response. Did they kill my whole family?  Are they all dead?

The Captain felt an overwhelming sense of pity.  She’s pleading for me to lie about what she knows already. he thought.   She  knows what’s gone down and wants me me to say it isn’t so.

I want to know the truth, Came words silently to mind.

Vincent was at a total loss…

Are all my people dead? 

“I’m afraid they are,” he answered out loud. “That is if the long haired ones are your kin.  The hall’s littered with dead Guardsmen and Apes….”

She turned and vized to the others, Wait here.  “Show me,” she said.

“I’m not sure you want to see this,” the Captain told her.

SHOW ME!

“It was like a sharp stick in the eye.  He gabbed his head and staggered backwards.  Any thought of sparing her the witness, vanished.

“Don’t ever do that again!” he warned…“You’re a rude little girl!  BUT, if that’s what you want, come and see for yourself.”

“Bedelia walked into the corridor.  By then the soldiers had the dead Apes laid on one side and the Guardsmen the other.  Tears came to her eyes and the emotional outpouring was like lightening through a bath tub.. No Elf in the fortress was spared… It was powerful, gut wrenching and unlike anything he’d ever experienced.”

She knelt down before each of them.  Their bodies were blood soaked and pierced by arrows and pikes.  Blond fur, covered their faces and stuck from beneath their garments.  She began stroking their silken hair, embracing them, and rocking back and forth.  Soon the other infants, some crawling, followed and for them the reaction added fuel to the outpouring.  ...Hugging, rocking and a racking, bitter sorrow. A mournful and unrelenting sadness.

A physic firestorm began spreading and the hall was soon was congested with soldiers.  As they came upon the scene they began weeping with the Simians, unable to escape the power of their grief.”







© Copyright 2012 percy goodfellow (trebor at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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