The Prophesy: Book 3 - The Hammer of Atlantis

 

The next morning, the duke woke up fresh for the first time in as far as he could remember. He found a new set of clothes, the boots he had worn the previous evening, a bowl of cold water to wash up his face, a comb and a mirror. After cleaning up and freshening himself, he left his chambers to proceed to the family room. It was then that he noticed the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, another first for him in years.

As he walked into the private dining room, he remembered the boy that had so wowed him last night and wondered again who he was. If all Atlanteans were like him, he was in for a heck of a ride! The duke studied the room with a critical eye. Something was odd. Then it flashed to his consciousness: there was not a speck of dust to be seen, the maple table shone like a mirror, the chairs were perfectly aligned, and the baby chair, that had not been in use for four years, stood on a side of the room, repaired! Some people had finally taken control of the lazy gits that were supposed to keep this house in order. He decided he might as well explore his apartments to find out the other changes that had happened literally overnight.

He first returned to his room to get his sword which he had left behind, feeling safe for the first time since he realized, in his youth, death could knock at the door any time. The first change he noticed was that the canopy bed had been made, with a new bedcover, the canopy itself seemed to have more vivid colours. As he got close, he did not cough, and realized the damn contraption not only was more colourful, but also smelled fresh and that the six inches of dust that had accumulated on top of it was gone. He strapped his sword on, took the time to peek in his bathroom to see that all was sparkling, the previous night's uniform was gone, something that he had missed when he woke up. Looking in his wardrobe, he saw there were new horse-riding boots, pants and that, in fact, all his old clothes had vanished to be replaced with a limited set of functional but well-cut suits. Even his armour, which he had not worn since he had begun fattening around the waist, was shiny, and seemed to have taken volume, showing a prominent belly. Was he so out of shape?

He made his way to the living room, found it clean and orderly. He touched the upholstery of his favourite settee, and noticed no dust puffed out, and that an offending spring, which had been eating at his butt for years, was now repaired. He moved into the wing reserved for his wife, err; ex-wife he thought with relief, and noticed it too had received a thorough scrubbing. Entering her private apartments, he noticed all personal items had vanished. Only some basic elements remained: the bed, a writing desk, which he never understood why his wife insisted on since she did not know how to write, a cabinet, a wardrobe and that was it. He opened first one drawer then another, to find they were all empty, smelled of fresh pine, not of her obsessive lavender she used to hide her body odours. The wardrobe was also empty and smelling of fresh pine.

As he looked around, he spotted the washroom, and curious, peeked in it. It was totally devoid of anything his wife might have used; there were a couple of bottles of full soap, shampoo and conditioners, as he remembered their colour from the previous day. A mirror, which had been broken years ago during one of their many fights, was replaced. There were a couple of fluffy towels hanging on a horizontal pole, and fancily folded washcloths that looked like seashells! He remembered seeing them in his bathroom too! These Atlanteans went all out and knew how to live!

He left the deserted apartments to meet his youngest girl in the hall leading to the living quarters. She looked like a horse-drawn carriage had passed over her.

"You get yourself in order, lady! We have to meet our new lords today and I will not have you shame me by looking like you slept with the last of the horse grooms!"

"Shut up dad! I am in no mood to talk to you and hear your recriminations! I was woken up early by a knock at my door telling me to get my butt out of bed! I am supposed to get respect here, and that boy shoved me out of bed by pulling me by the feet, saying he would have to dispose of his gloves given how shitty I was! I've never been so insulted in my life!"

"Given how you look, lady, I would give the boy reason! Get back in your room, strip and take a bath! That's an order!"

"Fuck you!"

The duke had enough! He grabbed his daughter by the arm, kicked the door of her en-suite open, pulled the yelling haridelle²²²² ("Haridelle: French, a thin, unhealthy and ill-tempered mare.") in her private apartments, ripped her clothes off to her cries of hypocritically offended modesty, and then dragged her to the bathroom. The bath was steaming, and the duke lifted the girl before throwing her in the water.

"You will get out of there when you are clean! Is that clear?" he thundered as he slammed the door shut. He could hear a series of imprecations that made tavern pillars sound polite, attacking him from top to bottom, from his sanity to his virility. He needed no digging to know where the girl had learned this effusive vocabulary of effluent words.

As he walked out of the girl's room to the hallway, he spotted the rest of the girls. A single look by the duke sent them scurrying back in their suites. None of them knew exactly what had transpired in their little sister's rooms, but the continuing cries of rage and fury told them it had not been pleasant.

The duke made his way to his boys' wing, intend on getting their butts out of bed, if it had not been taken care of already. He decided to handle the oldest first, as he knew him as the most stubborn of the lot.

He walked in to find the boy on his belly, arse up in the air, and playing with his boy tool and other unmentionable parts of his anatomy! The smell in the room reeked of unwashed body, sex, cold cum, and other smells the duke preferred not to try to identify. Just as the duke was ready to make his presence known, the boy had repeated spasms before flopping himself back on the wet and messy bed sheets, intent on going back to sleep.

The duke took two steps, grabbed his son by the arm, and forcibly threw him out of bed on the floor.

"Oh no, you aren't going back to sleep! You have to clean up! I have had enough of living with two-legged pigs!"

The boy looked up at his dad, shocked.

"But dad..."

"No but if you want to keep your butt safe from my boot! Get in the bath and wash up or else!"

"There's only cold water and I don't want to catch anything! The doctors say washing in cold weather can kill you!"

"I don't care what these charlatans say, boy! You are going to clean up or I'll throw you in the bath myself! Your youngest sister experienced a belly landing in her bath this morning and I'm so pissed you could well end up doing the same! Do not be surprised to see one of the Atlanteans monitoring your cleaning up, son. They seem to attach a lot of importance to a clean body, and given what I have seen of them, and smelled of you, it might be a good idea we practiced at least that modicum of self-discipline! Now get in there! My foot has ants rooting for your rear, and it's not football season!"

The boy got up from the floor, and the duke had to admit his son reeked. He could see nits and fleas crawling on his body. He wondered if all the others were in such a sorry state. He left the smelly room and proceeded to get the others on the move. The procedure was accompanied by a continuous flow of indecent comments addressed to him, his ancestors, his family collaterals and such. The youngest boy tried to stab his dad, getting a handprint on his bums for the effort, and a flying lesson to the bathtub.

"I'll drown!" hollered the boy as his dad dunked him in the water, which took a dark chocolate look.

"Then you'll end up where you have been living! In the pigsty!"

The duke left the last room, wondering what had gone wrong in bringing up the children. He moved to the dining room, sat down at his usual place, and waited. He had been so busy getting his house in order he had not seen the two wolves sitting quietly at the end of the room. Finally, opening his eyes and removing his hands from his face, he noticed them.

"Welcome, sirs. I do not know if you understand me, but I have had a harrowing wake up call when I visited my children. They need a severe retraining!"

The wolves tilted their heads as if nodding in agreement.

As his youngest girl came into the room, wearing decent-looking clothes for the first time since he could remember, she stormed the place, as if on a mission.

"That little creep! I'll have him whipped! Not only did he stay to watch me wash, but I had to do it three times before he even let me out of the fucking bath! I am so furious! I didn't want to wash my hair, and he turned me upside down and dunked me in the water headfirst! He had me use a special soap he called a debugger, and tried to convince me the water was crowding with dead lice, nits and fleas! What does he think I am, a flea-infested dog? And to compound insults, he had me doused by icy water! There was even ice chips in it!"

The boy, who had followed her in the room, replied calmly:

"No, lady, a flea-bitten pig. Our canines are free of what you carried! As for your threat of physical harm, I choose to ignore it, for your own survival. The cooling off was the only way to get your boiling temper under control and to notice what I was saying. Would you have preferred a dip in the ocean, like your big brother? I could still arrange it, if it's the only way to get you to stop acting up."

The girl turned like a top on her left foot, trying to slap the boy on the face. It did not go as planned for her: she not only missed the boy, but he sent her flying with a powerful push in an uncontrolled spin that smashed her hard in the doorframe. Stunned, she fell on her arse, eyes wide.

"Lady, hitting us will only get you hurt. I have no intention to be your punching bag, and you will have to learn respect if you want to get it. We are trained warriors, and your tantrum is the characteristic behaviour of our babies still unable to walk and kill their first orc on their own. Grow up, or we will make you grow up against your will! And it won't be pleasant!"

The duke looked at the four-year old that had just taken his eight-year old like a rag doll and given her a lesson in self-control. He knew this was not the same boy that had kept guard on him the previous day, but he showed as much confidence then the other one!

The boy moved to the girl, grabbed her by the hand and pulled her off the ground as if she weighed nothing. He then placed her in her place at the table and shoved her down.

"Do not move until breakfeast is finished!"

Just then the other girls walked in, as red in the face as the first one, and looking all as furious as she did. The duke did not want a repeat of the previous events, and intervened before the rants began.

"I heard it all already. Sit at your place and keep your mouth shut!" he said, pointing at the table. The icy voice gave some warnings to the incoming girls, and they conformed to their dad's directives, albeit with some grumbles. As the last girl sat down, the eldest boy came in, just about as ready to blow up as the girls. The duke pulled his sword and placed it on the table.

"One word and your breakfast will have a taste of steel!"

The boy looked at his dad wide-eyed. He had built up quite some steam from his bath, the fact he had not been given any choice into clothes, and his hair had been trimmed to a style he had no intentions of ever keeping. Who was that boy to tell him he was now in the army and that hair was a risk in hand-to-hand combat? He had no intentions of ever getting in the army, any army!

The other boys walked in, almost unrecognizable due to the extent of the changes they had undergone. Not only was their hair a buzz cut, a far cry from their down to below the shoulder blades they used to carry, but the hair colour had lost several shades of mud brown, becoming more varied, from rust to light-blond. The duke had already noticed the colour change in his girls; their hairstyle, which had been next to impossible to differentiate, now ran from short curly blonde to straight ebony black, and a mousy, tightly curled one. He noticed that girls too wore short hairs.

"Dad, I will never be in any hand-to-hand combat! I'm a duke in waiting, a noble, I give orders from behind the lines!" thundered the oldest boy.

"This is where you are wrong. You will either fight and win your grade or you will be served to the orcs as living, kicking food!" replied one of the boys. The duke immediately recognized the one that had taken care of him the previous night. The tone was unmistakable: that of command!

The duke's son flashed a furious look at the Atlantean.

"Do you want another visit to the Atlantic? I can repeat it, without even a sweat, you know."

The young man backed into his chair, whiter then chalk, and fell heavily in it.

"Sit down! Breakfast will be served!" said the same boy, in a tone that did not tolerate arguments.

The breakfeast was made up of eggs served in a variety of forms, toasts, jelly, sausage, potatoes, twice baked beans, pancakes with maple syrup, fresh orange juice, a variety of fresh, and delicately cut fruits that were representations of flowers, and hot and cold drink, including milk, coffee, and hot chocolate. Most of the fruits had never even graced the duke's table, and coffee, which was a rarity, had been had only twice at his table. Chocolate was unknown as well. Eggs were known, but multi-grain bread was not. The variety of jellies was also a surprise. The sausage, far from their usual pork and spices, also presented a much wider variety from pork to veal and chicken, and a rather spicy one that the boy sharing their table identified for the duke as buffalo, a wild animal. He explained the stronger taste was due to the fact that the meat was venison, not domesticated.

The duke tasted everything, discovering savours he never knew existed. His children were a little less adventurous, but did take to the sweets readily. Fruits mostly found their favour, but some of the more spicy meats were generally snubbed. The duke, as unused as he was to this kind of food, made a conscious effort to eat as much as he could, to honour the boy within their midst as much as to train his taste buds to the new experiences. He intended to show his children that one does not lift nose on a new experience after taking a tiny bit.

As he was eating, he noticed the wolves never left their position to beg for food and ignored anything dropped on the floor. That was a far cry from what he knew of his own dog pack! He was sure if they had been in the room, they would have begged, snagged food directly from the plate, or otherwise proved to be obnoxious. The boy spoke as the duke observed the wolves speculatively.

"You wonder why the wolves do not bother us? They are on guard duty. They will have their meal when their shift is over, at sext. They will go to the mess hall, feed, drink, exercise, nap, and return to this room on hour before compline to end their day with another four-hour shift until matins."

The comment confirmed another impression the duke had been getting: these were no family dogs! It also brought a series of gasps from the other people at the table. The time for speculation was over: these were wolves!

***

"Since breakfeast is over, follow me to the Great Hall. I have been informed you are expected."

Getting up, the boy just looked at the food and it disappeared. The soiled dishes and cutlery took the same road, then the tablecloth. The table got polished in the blink of an eye, and a new, much more delicate tablecloth sat on it, with a beautiful centrepiece of fresh roses. As the duke's family left the table, the chairs aligned themselves, received a fresh polish, and a cleaning from any stains sustained during breakfast. Food that had fallen on the floor had long since vanished.

"Let's get going."

The ducal family, suitably impressed, followed the boy down to the Great Hall. They noticed the wolves take position around the boy, one behind, the other in front, without any prompting of any sort. As the procession passed the living room doors, two more wolves fell in step, one on each side of the humans. On exiting the ducal quarters, two more took position at the rear, in effect framing the column completely.

If the duke felt relatively at ease with this, understanding the need for it, his children were shaky in their boots. They kept looking around warily, to the point the boy judged it necessary to bring them back on earth.

"Focus on where you are and what you are doing. These steps are uneven, and someone could break a leg. Whoever designed this Grand staircase had a leg shorter then the other and favoured his short leg to tackle the first step!"

This comment had the intended effect, as everyone reached the lower landing without any mishap. The walk to the Grand Hall was even more unnerving then the exit from the ducal apartments. A long line of canines, Dwarfs, Elves and legionnaires were placed along the walls, at full and silent attention, more rigid then steel poles. An occasional Fairy was also visible, holding his or her blowgun down but at the ready.

The duke gulped. He knew Legionnaires from his own experience, but these had an added something he just couldn't put his finger on. They had this look of ingrained discipline and purpose that sent shivers down his back. The Elves, he remembered from his travels, but they too had changed considerably. They were as hardened as the Legionnaires. That was the word he had been searching for: the Legionnaires were hardened, steel tempered in blood. He had been told of the Fairies and Dwarfs and, until meeting with the Atlanteans, had dismissed the idea as fabrication. Now he had them standing less then four feet from him. He could see the Dwarves' axes and hammers, hanging nonchalantly at their leather belt, yet he had no doubt the axe would cut a man in half in the blink of an eye or the hammer add another eye socket to a forehead.

As the procession progressed, they turned into a wider hallway, and the Trolls came into view. The duke ignored them, having met some while getting ready for his bath, but his children were unprepared for the giants. Fairies and Dwarfs, they could dismiss as negligible quantities; Elves only differed from them because of their pointed ears; wolves could be perceived as oversized dogs, and legionnaires were well-known quantities, but this! Only the low growls of the wolves breathing on their pants convinced the duke's children to continue walking, with the utmost reticence. Yet they had not met the biggest of the Atlanteans!

The big double doors made of thick single pieces of finely sculpted oak, opened as the boy approached. A trumpet rang deep in the recess of the cavernous room just as their guide stepped inside. There continued the row of bipeds, but shocking the duke's brood to the core, they could also see warhorses, but also other quadrupeds they could not even name. Horses with a giant horn on their forehead, horses with wings, horses with arms and a torso, and, near the end, overshadowing everyone, huge dragons: gold, green, and red dragons! Two girls fainted, and the eldest boy fell on his knees unable to take a step further. The other children, minus the two girls out cold, took their cue from their older sibling and fell on their knees. The duke himself, visibly shaken, managed to stay standing, but his knees were playing castanets with a pretty good tempo.

"Stand up and keep moving!" ordered the boy that had been with them since breakfast. The voice was so compelling those that could obey stood immediately as if a beehive had stung their rear. The two girls got doused by a big pitcher of ice water before being told to get up and rejoin the procession. Their eyes clearly told the boy they were near losing contact with reality, and he decided to take control of their movements before anything unwarranted occurred. The control changed so smoothly only the duke noticed it as the two girls stood taller, even as their eyes showed the top room was vacant. The walk resumed at a much more sedate pace, and each step closer to the dragons and the front of the room seemed to cost the duke and his family more. Their steps faltered, their balance became ever more unsteady. It was apparent a battle between fear and the imperative order given earlier was being fought, with each step reinforcing the fear.

Twenty feet from an impressive arrangement of thrones, the duke and his children could no longer move. Acknowledging the fact, thirteen chairs appeared, most with short dorsal rests, but one with a taller back and displaying the duke's armoury.

The boy continued to move forward, climbed the steps leading to the dais, and sat to the right of the man the duke now knew was Harold Thor Horus Pharaoh of Atlantis. Beside him sat a group of boys, some with full crowns, others with circlets, but all speaking of power impossible to imagine. But what could not be missed was the tiara worn by the king of kings, and surprisingly, by the young boy that had been keeping them company. On one side sat a golden boy, wearing a circlet, whose eyes reminded the duke of the faceted eyes of the dragons; further, he could see the crown of the Elves on a young boy, and the crown of the Dwarfs on another boy; Then, further away, a silver horse wore a circlet, and beside him were a series of these strange horses he couldn't name, one each with a circlet indicating a high status in the hierarchy. On the other side sat a man whose face clearly indicated wolf ascent, covered in a deep black fur, and wearing another circlet of lesser value then those he had seen; beside him sat a Troll whose circlet matched in quality those of what he assumed to be princes. He was so busy eyeing the strange assembly he almost missed the lady sitting beside the king of kings. That lady spelled legion louder then a centurie at full charge. She wore a tiara just slightly less elaborate then her husband.

"Be seated!" commanded the man in a sharp voice that echoed in the silence of the Great Hall. The duke obeyed immediately, followed by his girls, and finally by his boys. The man eyed each member of the duke's family in turn, as a spider gauges her next meal, felt the duke. And indeed Harold was evaluating each on their individual merit and finding them lacking.

"Do you know why you are here?" asked Harold.

The duke knew his answer had to be honest, and denying that he really understood what was happening would only serve to hurt his chances at survival, so he decided to play the honesty card.

"To be judged and determine if we are worthy of the Atlantean Empire," he replied, sweating profusely as he felt like he was extending his neck for the court executioner.

"That is correct, although I have never mentioned I ruled an Empire. A kingdom is more then enough for me."

"I stand corrected, your Majesty."

"We have studied your family ever since we arrived in this castle. Tell me, duke, how would you judge your family?"

The duke had not expected that one! If he was honest he doomed his family; if he wasn't he doomed his family as well! Talk about a double bind! Since honesty had paid off so far, he decided to go for broke and be bluntly honest.

"As unfit of their status, corrupt to the bone, lazy, always bickering, backstabbing each other and myself; untrustworthy, vicious, and in severe need of re-education to find the right path to valour and respect."

"That is what we observed through the eyes and ears of our family. Do you think they can redeem themselves if placed under strict control?"

"Only time will tell, your Majesty, but if they are not given the chance, then there may be a loss."

"To yourself or to my kingdom?"

"To both, your Majesty."

"You certainly noticed how rigorous Atlantean control is."

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Do you wish, as their liege lord, to put them under Atlantean control? Before you answer, realize this: they will be your children by blood only, and will not benefit of any privilege due rank or parentage."

"Yes I do. May I request the same treatment? I do not deserve the title of duke within the framework of your kingdom."

"Your first wish is granted. Your attitude tells us you have great potential as a valuable leader. Your demotion is therefore denied. You will stay duke without duchy, as are many dukes of my kingdom."

"May I express my thanks, your Majesty?"

"You may, but you probably will come to regret doing so. Standards are high for all in my kingdom, even more so for those with potential for greatness."

As the exchange progressed, the children bleached, realizing they were losing something they had taken for granted. Finally, the eldest son couldn't hold it anymore and yelled at his dad:

"Traitor! You just sold your family to save your neck!"

"Silence!" thundered Harold. "Show respect to your dad if not to your Liege lord, since he no longer is but we are! He saved your neck fool! You will have a chance to gain status by merit alone, not receive it as the result of the bed sheets lottery! Should you forfeit this opportunity, your head will adorn a spike right beside your mother's! Had he lied to us but once, you and he would have been dead the second the lie left his lips! Be warned! We do not tolerate court intrigue and double-talk. The last one that tried it ended up skewered! Ask king Enron of the Elves, who rendered judgement and executed it with his own hands."

Enron nodded, shocking the duke and his children.

"We need not be introduced to your children, duke. Their name-calling and reference to their sexual prowesses, and greatly exaggerated sexual attributes during your family feud before your wife pushed the cork too far has given the proper name of each, and an appropriate nickname as well. We will not dishonour my canines by attributing any nickname coming from their species to your children. We even refuse using names related to pork or any other food staple, since we eat those, and we would constantly be reminded of the vileness your children represent. Let us not taint the honour of our food supply, even of the vegetables! However, dung beetles are not part of our fare, and we do not wish to insult the Orcs by using their nickname, cockroaches, to portray your descendants. At least, the Orcs have honour in battle!"

The duke's face was burning in shame, but he had to admit the children had earned their label. He nodded keeping silent for fear his voice would betray his turmoil.

"This settled, let me introduce those present, but a tiny part of my kingdom's resources."

Harold began introduction in the reverse order of what the usual court protocol called for. He began by the lowest ranking, namely, Duke Greywolf, and proceeded from there with the princes of vassal kingdoms, followed by the kings of vassal kingdoms, to finish with the immediate royal family, including Viola, whom seemed definitely ill at ease and strangely dressed in his uniform of a simple cavalryman. The introductions concluded with Queen Annabelle and the king himself. The ducal family learned they had been under the watchful eye of the Royal Heir, not only a great strategist, but also a mage of great power, as were all the members of the royal entourage. They knew from seeing his actions that he was also a fine swordsman.

***

Once the introductions were completed, Harold pointed to an open space on the side.

"Move there and watch. We will be dealing with the different orders, guilds and trade unions. Quite a few have already lost some prominent members during the night, and what is left of their respective leadership has been ordered to report at the first bell of tierce. They better be on time if they know what is good for their health."

Two girls vanished, and the duke looked at the king.

"You need not worry. Your two daughters have been sent to Thebes for treatment. They have lost all contact with reality and will be placed in stasis chambers while they undergo therapy. One day in this special chamber is equal to a year in real time. Not all of our stasis chambers have the same ratio. You will need to talk to prince Paschal to get an understanding of the technicalities behind the chambers. We decided it was not worth the headache! Now, without becoming invisible, we would like you to stay out of what will happen. We expect a lot of acrimony, and you will see power used to get our way with those that believe they can get away with neglecting their duties. Stand."

One of the girls, too occupied at eyeing one of the princes in an attempt to court him, did not move fast enough and fell down on her ass when the chair vanished from under her. Red as a beet, she pulled herself from the ground and stood shakily on her legs.

"Lady," said the prince, who had been aware of her efforts, "The human species would die out before I ever considered you as a potential partner for any reproduction or even as a play toy. My hand is much safer then you will ever be."

The girl followed her siblings to the side, fuming so much an observer might have seen smoke escape from her ears and nostrils.

"It is no use getting all worked up, lady; you are only able to make a poor imitation of a dragon, and then, I'm being generous by a far margin! Anyway, given the upcoming ice age, we are not short on ice to cool hot heads!"

The ducal family squared away on the side, the chairs long gone, Harold looked at Harp.

"It is a minute to tierce. I will dispose of the retards that do not understand an order when they see it."

A minute later, the Great Hall's doors opened to reveal a collection of individuals wearing pompous clothing and ceremonial dresses, holding different signs of apparent authority. Harold looked at Harp, and he saw the right hand open twice, meaning ten had been killed for being late. The others were ordered inside the Great Hall. They walked in apprehensively, even shakier on their legs then the ducal family had been just minutes earlier.

"Do not try our patience! Get your butts in our presence!" thundered Harold. "Our dragonlings are hungry and would like nothing better then to get skewered tradesmen for breakfast!"

The tradesmen came into the room running like hellfire was on their arse, stepping on each other, pushing, shoving, panting, and falling over in their mad rush to get to the front of the room. The presence of the dragons at the head of the long row of officials had not gone unnoticed, but they took them for décor. Their misconception was rectified when one of the 'statues' blasted a long breath of fire five feet ahead of them, bringing a halt to the headlong dash to the throne. The resulting pile-up removed any dignity the tradesmen representative might still have had.

"The red ones like their meat cooked," commented Harold, "while the greens like it tartar! The gold are versatile."

Harold did not bother creating chairs for the pitiful lot trying to help each other up from the floor.

"Lesson one, duke: it is in adversity that divergent interests unite. Look at them: they are helping each other to stand up, but we could hear them right from here recriminating on the situation in town and throwing blame at each other like a priest uses the bottlebrush to douse his faithful with sanctified water!"

After waiting for everyone to stand up, some using canes to look pitiful and garner sympathy more then because they needed it, the king continued, addressing them with very harsh words.

"This city is now under martial law. It will not stay so for long, as the criminal elements are being disposed of as we speak. Under Atlantean law, child labour, slavery, murder for personal gains all have the same result. We would say the gallows, but we would be running out of lumber! So heads have been falling like leaves off a maple tree in late fall! The Diviners have been executed to the last member, as their trade was in child slavery. Those of you that have condoned or otherwise practiced in slavery have joined them. Those of you who bought their charge will be dealt with as harshly. The Atlantean kingdom will not put up with an ill-trained workforce. Petty criminals are now conscripts in our army and will discover the true value of bravery and honour. You will be moved before sext to our kingdom, to undergo evaluation, retraining in your respective trade, and military training. In our kingdom, there are no civilians. We are at war, and everyone contributes from his first step to his last breath to the war effort. As of now, your charters are suspended until such time we judge you have earned them back. Patents are issued by the Crown's good will, monitored by the Crown and suspended by the Crown. So are your grades and privileges. You will all be apprentices in your chosen trade, and you will get promoted on merit alone!"

The explosion did not wait long after Harold's speech to burst. A lot of yelling calls of dictatorship, and of abuse of authority detonated from every quarter. Harold let the steam blow over. As the voices went down, everyone realizing that the king was ignoring them superbly, Harold began speaking anew.

"An absolute monarchy is a dictatorship, in case you might not have noticed! We will exercise that power with restraint, but we will exercise it! Yes, your privileges have been removed, your status as potentates of your little empires has vanished like water in a hot pan, but you are alive. The usurper that decimated your royal family has shown a lot less restraint in his actions. Ask yourself where some of your friends have disappeared. We have found enough proof of torture and systematic extermination of opponents to his regime. Now, we wish you to consider this: what would you prefer, be chattel to orcs; fall under the loving care of the usurper; or be moved out of the way to the safety of our kingdom?"

"What is there in these options for us?"

"Death, delayed death, and life."

"We could inform the king of your presence," said a young cock.

"If he isn't already, he is served by idiots. And you all know how court mice are: you will never reach the usurper with the bad news alive. These sycophants believe hard as diamond that if you ignore a problem long enough it will disappear by itself. Anyway, given the coming winter, my army will be leaving tomorrow at dawn, that is an hour after prime given this time of year. I have a usurper to convert to strip steak longitudinally. This city will be dismantled by then. The orcs and crocodile priests will not find a single structure to hide from the cold, not a piece of rotten meat to chew on and not a chip of wood to burn. All the farms around the city have been moved, lock, stock and barrel. The city's stores are empty. The ships in port were scuttled. Those that were ready to reach the port over the next few days have been emptied of their cargo, and their crew removed to our care, and their carcasses are now resting on the riverbed. As we speak, the last units of the duke's legions are being moved to Thebes, our capital, to undergo retraining. Every animal, even the rats are moved, since we use the rodents to feed the birds and carnivores of the Ark. As we said earlier, by sext, only ghosts will inhabit this town. By vespers, it will no longer exist."

"If we decided to pick our lot with the king, what would happen?"

"You would be left here to outrun the orcs, that are less then a day and a half behind us, and they are running on empty stomach! All I can say is, they like to eat their meat fresh, still screaming preferably."

"Aren't you afraid of getting encircled and put to siege?"

"To do that, they would need to outflank us, and they have a lot to learn in the art of military tactics. Their idea of strategy is to run headlong in a battle and crush the opposition. So far, they are acting like lemmings jumping over a cliff in search for food, you in occurrence."

"Can we retire to discuss our options?"

"Sure, but be aware these options are vanishing by the minute. When we are done with moving the population, either you will be gone with them or you will be left behind. That means you have less then three hours to decide, since we are getting closer to sext with every tick of the clock. Remember! At sext, the last caravan leaves! Be here before then or forfeit your ticket to safety!"

With a simple hand gesture, Harold told the traders they were dismissed and to retire. The men and women retired much more slowly out of the Great Hall then they had come in. They were in such a state of shock they were silent.

***

As the double doors slammed shut behind the last guild member, the royals burst in laughter. Even the duke couldn't help but grin widely at the decomposed looks the faces harboured as they left the big room. He had waited for so long to see just that scene!

"Aren't you afraid some will send pigeons to the usurper the moment they reach their chapter's house?"

"I hope so! They will die, the pigeons will be intercepted, and it will help clean up the trading unions!"

"You are vicious, your Majesty."

"Duke, I am effective. There is a difference."

"I heard you say you plan to destroy everything in this town. What will happen to this castle?"

"Paschal?"

"It is of Atlantean origins, an advanced fortification on the road leading to our kingdom which was abandoned after the Baby Moon fell. It will be moved. The rest of the city grafted itself in order to benefit from its protection. It gets destroyed. There is a small amount of orichalque under it, which explains why it is so well preserved."

"Proceed when ready, Paschal."

"It will be moved to Thebes as soon as we have finished destroying the surrounding city."

"What do you expect their decision will be?" asked Harp, as he pointed at the door.

"I am surprised they didn't leave a trail of bodily waste as they left. I expect them back to accept the move to Thebes, to the last surviving one," replied Harold.

"I'm opening the books on how many will die from trying to betray us to the usurper!" said Ian.

"I am not betting with you son, you have been looking in the future during the whole meeting! I may be myopic, but I am neither blind nor senile!"

"You're no fun!"

"It's the price of fame, son."

Ian pouted, and everyone laughed so hard at his face some had to grip their ribs.

"Do you wish to be moved to Thebes right away or stay for the conclusion of this show?" asked the king, looking at the duke.

The duke looked at his children and spoke up:

"We wish to stay, if it is not imposing on your Majesty. I never had so much fun in my life! This beats the best comedy and jokesters I have set my eyes on."

"Then you are welcomed. It is true seeing these individuals' actions are highly entertaining. Let us eat some finger food. Harp? How is the evacuation progressing?"

"It is on schedule. We are one hour into the process, and a third of the city is empty. The city's canines and equines have been incorporated into our units, except those who lactate or are gravid. We found a well-hidden temple. The crocodile priests and hunters were summarily dispatched to the care of the orcs, which halted their progress to deal with their archenemies in the most spectacular fashion. I doubt the crocodile priests appreciate their participation in the current show. We rescued five live humans from their pantry. From interviews, we learned the Hunters lured unsuspecting youths into the temple, so your head stays were it is duke. We disposed of the females on humanitarian grounds."

"Sitar, how is the integration of the humans progressing in the kingdom?"

"If you are referring to those from Riverside and the two settlements, they are still too shocked to begin integration, at least as far as the adults are concerned. But the children are rapidly falling in step with their peers. The teens are teens: stormy, but they will probably adapt faster then the adults. They are being put through a military regimen that will bring them in line kicking and screaming. I can tell you getting their ass whipped in a fight by a two year old is one sobering experience for them! By the way, Ian and Harp, the mere mention of your name gives them cold sweats. The youngsters systematically mention the name of one or another of you as they give a teen's ego a bruising. You have just about reached godhood, albeit not on the same side of the fence for the teens as for the youngsters!"

"How are parents reacting to this?"

"They are still too freaked out to even notice their children spend the day in a military academy learning how to kill."

"Even those with toddlers?"

"Even them. I think they believe their barely walking or crawling child is going to a nursery, and they are relieved. None of them has ever tried in the past three months and a half to follow the child or offered to bring it to the nursery to see where he or she is during the day and what kind of activity is held. To be honest, dad, I am a bit shocked at this. It's like they are happy to be rid of them!"

"And no one noticed an increased coordination, an improved muscle tonus, a loss of excess weight, an increase in muscle mass, bruises or a general improvement in fitness and health?"

"If they did, they never brought the subject up. As for bruises, the children get patched up before returning home. If they show bruises on return from home, the parents are shipped to a conscript camp within the hour. We feed the children three meals a day, supply them with a fresh diaper for those who need it at night, and see to their physical hygiene from sunup to sundown. Most parents see to the diapers during the night; if they don't we simply keep the child at the training camp, because the parents are negligent. It doesn't bode well for them, since the next morning, they are incorporated into an active conscript unit and find themselves on the road for intensive survival and battle training. I have seen quite a few sweat their bad attitude on the road, in a full-day non-stop run in the hot sun of Lava Flows. They start their day swearing and finish it praying!"

"You have things well in hand Sitar."

"Oh, I have little merit. I set up the program, and gave the day-to-day management to dedicated members of the armed forces. They know they must not betray my trust and I do unannounced spot-checks at every hour of the day or night. I have yet to see anything I would not personally do or approve. Being able to port does have its advantages."

"How are the new legionnaires dealing with things?" asked Annabelle.

"We had to teach them everything! Duke, if the rest of this place's army is as ill-prepared, I wonder how come the orcs have not considered it a larder! We had to train them from basic uniform maintenance to how to sharpen their knives and swords, and they can't even walk in step properly. They are in such poor physical condition we had several heart attacks, especially amongst the overfed officers. Fortunately, treatment is as easy as a short stay in the appropriate tube."

"Tube?" asked Paschal, intrigued.

"That's the nickname the health care workers have given to your stasis chambers."

"I see."

"Admit it fits! They had another image in mind, but I vetoed it."

"Oh?"

"Condom."

The snickers that followed as the image flourished in their minds grew and grew, until the royals were fit to be tied.

***

The return of the members of the trade union leadership happened an hour before time ran out. Three were missing.

"So, what is your decision?"

A spokeswoman stepped forward.

"I have been elected by those present to speak out. We accept your conditions. When will we move?"

"Identify your respective guild, order, union or whatever grouping you represent to Harp. He is in charge of moving things out of here."

"What happened to the three which are not back?"

"They betrayed us. They died."

"What will happen to those that were under their jurisdiction? After all, their stupidity should not be carried by the innocents."

"They have been moved already," replied Harp. "In effect, the decision of moving or not moving rests solely on the individual's shoulder. Even a family can be split if necessary. Children are moved notwithstanding any decision taken by their parents; women bearing children are also moved. So far, the result has been unanimous: get us out of here! We obliged."

"The city seems empty? Are we late?"

"No, it is still a third full. The moment you took your decision, your stuff, minus the contaminated material, got moved. Close your eyes, and count to five. Travelling by port with eyes open can be disconcerting the first time."

A few seconds later, the room was empty of the tradesmen.

"It is your turn, duke. Close your eyes. You will be ported into our home in Thebes. Report to Prince Yamato on arrival. To find him, ask. Your castle will be in Thebes by morning. By then you can reclaim it. Your children, on the other hand, will be in recruits' barracks."

The duke and his family vanished and the royals let out a sigh of relief.

"Harp, Sitar, Paschal, Ian, port the rest of the city's citizenry as quickly as possible. Once this is done, we will join you in the demolition derby. Viola, demolition is a basic task of magic and requires a lot less control then porting. You will train in it under your brothers."

"Yes sir!"

"Viola, another point: as soon as we get back to Thebes, you will officially be adopted by me. So will your sisters and brothers, if we find them."

"Thank you so much sir!"

***

The demolition began in earnest the moment the last life form had been ported and sorted in Thebes. The city's components rained on the advancing orcs, destroying their orderly progress; to make things even worse for them, Samson and the dragons made sure everything falling was burning before it hit the ground, except for the pavement and masonry. The result was a firestorm that, given the wind's seaside origin, pushed back the orcs several miles and caught up with some of their units in gorges containing rapid streams. Orcs and rapids just didn't add up!

At first, Viola had problems, and tried too hard.

"I don't want you to detonate the rocks, Viola. We are not looking for a chemical or atomic reaction. You need only push them off the top of the walls. Once they are down, others will do the porting over our target area," explained Harp.

"You have a target area?"

"Oh yes! The orcs are a day and a half behind us. I think they finally realised they might have a chance at getting us since we are out of the kingdom. We let them believe so, and we lure them ever further away from their prime objective. The more we tackle them, the more enraged they become. And who is mad doesn't think!"

"It goes further then what Sitar says, Viola. We make sure they believe they are catching up with us by grading our response, as if we were desperate to escape. That rain of fiery debris is scaled as well. Even the forest fire is controlled. We do not, absolutely do not, want to discourage them from following us further south!"

"Will it stay like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Will they be kept a day and a half behind us?"

"Actually, no. By tomorrow morning, as a result of this tactic, we will have gained a half-day by pushing them back. And by the end of the day, we will be three days ahead of them. They won't know it, because we intentionally leave fresh tracks behind us," Harp told him.

"How do you plan to handle the arc? The orcs certainly won't be allowed in the shelters."

"So you think! You will see. These shelters can also be perfect orc traps. I can imagine their delectation at finding out about them, rushing in, trailing us, and following us from one refuge to another, unaware that the flags have meaning and that they are getting microwaved!"

"Microwaved?"

"Cooked. The Ancients used that to cook food."

"I wonder how you know so much about the Ancients."

"In due course, you will understand."

"And what if we are cornered in one of those shelters at one end while the orcs are flooding it at the other?"

"To be trapped, we would have to be facing a wind from the sea. We can see to it that this situation does not happen. It won't be easy, but installing a depression off the coast so it created a draft from the land is feasible."

"You will control weather?" asked a stunned Viola.

"Why, yes, it's not our first time."

"But the orcs will also benefit from it!"

"Oh, in a way. We do not want them to fall sick too early, do we? They will benefit from the tail end of the effect."

"And what will that accomplish? And I thought you had planned to hold the first shelter against the orcs."

"They will move further and further south. Once we have reached the end of the kingdom, we port the army back in the first bunker, leaving them behind. It will take them a few days to figure out we slipped them, and by then the wind pattern will have returned to normal, that is to roast and toast. We can then say bye-bye another orc army. "

"As for the change of plan, I came up with it last night," replied Sitar. "Adjusting plans to suit circumstances is what makes a great army."

"Anyway, the first shelter will not be totally abandoned. We plan on leaving behind a centurie."

"They are the sacrificial sheep?"

"Actually no. We discovered from repeated aerial surveillance that the bunker has layers. Even the legions currently in it are unaware of the layers. The legion will be ported directly into the deepest layer, leaving no indication of their presence for the orcs to smell or see. On our return trip, we come from below taking any residual orc force by surprise."

"And what about the section leading to Boson?"

"We do as planned, leaving the bunker so booby-trapped a mouse will be unable to crawl into it without dying. The orcs will figure the high price they pay for each inch leads to the booty of the millennium, that is, for them, the bonanza of food supply, us! By the time we reach the end of the road, slightly north of Boson, we have made sure they are trapped in the bunkers and outside of them. Knowing the orcs, their commanders will split, unable to drop one trail for another. When the orcs are fully engaged in the entire chain, we collapse it."

"That will be bloody."

"Crunchy is a better word."

"How do you plan to synchronise all this?"

The two boys looked at Viola as if he was daft. Their reaction did not escape Viola.

"How stupid of me! Magic?"

"Why ask a question if you know the answer?"

"Just to get a confirmation!"

The two boys looked at Viola, raising their eyebrows to their hairline.

"Anyway, back to work. Let me try this again!"

Viola collapsed a whole segment of the northern wall, surprising himself.

"You got it!" exclaimed Harp, ecstatic. "Now continue training. We'll get you to focus on a single piece of masonry at the next town!"

Viola, encouraged by his success, took to demolition like duck to water.

"Oh Gaia! Another Harp!" exclaimed Paschal as he watched Viola at work.

"What can I say? He takes from his master!" replied Harp, unrepentant.