The Prophesy: Book 3 - The Hammer of Atlantis

 

The atmosphere in Riverside was sombre, very sombre, as the fog lifted over the river. Haggard people walked aimlessly around, in shock. Women hugged their children, as the Legions patrolled the streets, intent on repressing any rebellion or revolt. The extent of the cleanup was apparent at every corner, as stakes with heads were planted everywhere, with a panel giving the name and the list of crimes of the head's owner. The worse crimes reported were listed below noble heads, ranging from repeated child abuse to torture to mass murder. The duke himself had a whole wall listing his villainies. Criers at each corner bellowed the names, ranks and crimes for the illiterate mass.

Numerous guilds and orders had seen their numbers shrink like snow in a hot pan, as their leaders were exposed as slave traders more into getting fresh meat for their sexual exploits than in gaining and training apprentices for a trade. Quite a few tradesmen saw their incompetence and improper ties exposed, from bad workmanship to fraud and fiscal evasion of such magnitude it shocked the poor sods that had been pressed like oranges by the duke's tax collectors. The libations and luxury of the nobles' lifestyle was also exposed to public scrutiny. Given that most of the populace lived in terrible conditions, with no running water, no sewers, and food that seemed more proper as fertilizer than to nourish, the shock was terrible.

The underworld itself did not escape the blinding light of the Atlanteans. As the number of murderers, rapists, gangs, and other shadowy organisations emerged, people realised they had been living in a cesspool, leaving a sour taste in the mouths of the citizens.

But the ultimate shock was the discovery of the true nature of the Crocodile Priests and their dark mating rituals. No one, but absolutely no one had thought this possible. Yet the presence of a long line of cadavers, stripped of any ornaments or clothes, in the plaza leading to where once stood the Temple, could not be ignored. Again, criers shouted the description of the mating and birthing rituals, adding indignation and horror to shock and disbelief. Nothing was left in the dark, from the feeding habits of the newly hatched crocodiles to the battle for survival that ensued, to the use of live men and children to feed them. The complicity of the duke and his minions in maintaining this secret for so long was also exposed in crude and bloody light. Everyone knew of the Orcs' taste for still kicking and screaming preys, but to realise that the city had harboured an organisation that was not significantly different in its nature shocked the citizenry beyond the tolerable.

Naturally, the atmosphere of the city was unstable at best, swinging from disbelief to fury in the blink of an eye, back to apathy, and relief, not necessarily in that order and everywhere at the same time. Occasional riots brought down bloody repressions, as the Atlanteans were in no mood to let things degenerate further. Given bars were hotbeds of turmoil, they were closed down by force, and their patrons expelled with well-placed kicks in the rear.

As the day progressed, what was left of the leadership in the different trading chapters began to worry about the mere survival of their institutions. Some wondered why Antonius had stayed behind, and, as no one had reported seeing him leave the palace, all sorts of rumours began circulating from one chapter to the other; most predicted he had met a dire end, others thought he was held prisoner in the dungeons, and others still thought he was being put to the question and was the cause of so much blood in the streets of their fair and just city. No one even considered a positive outcome, and much less bothered to visit his villa to enquire as to his whereabouts or wellbeing.

Sext passed with a gloom that would have made everyone believe the sun had not risen that day, even if, for the first time in months, the sky showed ever widening specks of blue within the grey cloud cover that had hung over the city for months on end like a shroud on a long-dead mummy. The passage of Dragons and Pegasuses in the sky sent everyone scurrying for shelter. The rumour mill had been running unabated since some people had dared venture in the street to fetch their daily groceries. Stories of entire family being roasted by giant dragons, eaten by wolves bigger then houses, butchered by double-blade axes handled by giant Dwarfs abounded, however ridiculous the last proposal seemed to those with cold heads. Flying insects with deadly darts also added to the confusion, as well as walking giant bears handling maces that split heads like nuts contributed to the collection of fables that were spreading in the city faster then a forest fire in a dry pine clump. No rumour was too far-fetched to be discredited.

The housedogs reported the rumours to Sitar, which was in no mood to dissipate them. If he had his way, the town would be flattened with everyone in it still. Harp was in no better mood, nor were the others. Only Ian kept a cold head, and it was his formal prohibition to exact blind vengeance that kept the citizenry alive and secure from his brothers. As everyone was having lunch at the palace, Ian decided he had enough.

"Dad, I have decided to call the city to a general meeting. We must put an end to these rumours, and clarify what happened last night. We have a kingdom to bring to its knees, and we cannot proceed with this city in its current state of turmoil."

"Ah! So you finally agree we need to wipe it off the map?" gloated Sitar.

"No! There are innocents in this city! If we behave as you wish, we are no better then the orcs or the crocodile priest, or, for that matter, the diviners! I will not tolerate this debasement of our powers to satisfy your shortsighted view of things! Have I made myself clear, Sitar?" thundered Ian, as his eyes flashed with fury. "We were given these powers to protect the innocents and render justice, to serve life against death, not to let you get even by destroying everything in your path! You have vowed obedience to the Heir of Atlantis! I now call on this vow! Get it? Destroying this city serves no purpose other then vengeance; it will not bring back your siblings that fell to the hands of the orcs, nor will it bring back your mother! Stop living in the past and look to the future! You have already found one of your brothers, namely Viola; now, focus on finding the others. Harp has done a remarkable work of extracting information from that diviner; it is now up to us to put the information to good use!"

Sitar bleached, shaking violently.

The tone used by Ian told everyone he would not put up with arguments; even Harold understood that, and he kept quiet, waiting for things to come out on their own. Harp cleared his throat, attracting the eyes of Ian. Harp bleached as he looked in his little brother's eyes. He had better be careful! Swallowing hard, he carefully thought out his question before speaking.

"Ian, what do you plan to do during that meeting? And who should be present?"

"I plan to show to all what we know. They read, they hear the criers, but they do not see nor feel. I will make it so they live our experiences. Let them judge for themselves if our reactions are too much after they have all the facts in their memory, in their guts, and as part of their own living experience! I will make them live four years of battle, of blood and guts, of trauma, as if they were there! I will show them what we discovered in the jails of this oh so fine city of theirs! I want everyone there, from children to old drunkards. No one is exempt."

"Children? Aren't you pushing things a bit far?"

"Dad, as far as I know, we have children in our army! I killed my first orc a week after I could walk! If I had to put up with this, so will they! I was riding Silver Moon before then, and had it been necessary, I probably would have butchered an orc or a crocodile priest even before I could stand! I remember throwing knives at moving targets while Silver Moon was at full gallop!"

"But you are special, son!" said Annabelle.

"Tell that to the thousands of two year olds who put your legionnaires in the hospital every day during training, mom! I am no more an exception then they are! Thorsten, wipe that smirk off your face! Your Dwarfs do no better! Nor do your Fairies, princess!" as Iridia looked at Annabelle with a wean smile.

"How do you plan to make the populace live out our life experience?" asked Typhoon, which wanted to break the tension he felt within the family of his Liege Lords.

"Magic, Typhoon, magic. We will enter their collective mind and dump our memories on them, the whole blood and gore of them, from dad's being torn from his family to yesterday's discovery of the jails and the Duke's behaviour, to the events we have collected in the memory of those we executed last night and today. I will spare them nothing, absolutely nothing. They judge us, let them judge themselves!"

"This will be shock therapy of a new magnitude," replied Samson.

"Yes it will be! They will learn to respect our motives and us! Those that do not will be left behind when we move the populace back to Thebes. And that decision is final!" replied Ian as he slammed his right hand on the table so hard it converted to dust under the shock. The others exchanged glances, understanding without exchanging a word that the discussion was over.

***

Enron quickly wrote the call for the city meeting to be held in the Grand Plaza at nones. The call was clear: be there or forfeit your life. The criers travelled the city, repeating for all to hear the message.

"Aren't you pushing things a bit far with this, Enron?"

"Dad, did you look at Ian? Even Harold was walking on eggs at lunch. Now, if you have a death wish, you can go see Ian and confront him. I, for one, am too young to die!"

Samson played back the events at lunch and had to admit his son's evaluation of the situation was correct, if muted! And Samson had no death wish, so he stayed put! He retired to Diamondcutter's side, deciding, judiciously, that the best policy was in retreat and discretion. He found Diamondcutter accompanied by Harold and Annabelle.

"What do you make of the situation, Harold?" he asked, as he looked around wearily.

"What I make of it is irrelevant. Ian is on a roll, and short of the planet blowing up, nothing will stand in his way. I have never seen him act that way before. And I am not stupid enough to face him when he is in this state of mind, as I told Diamondcutter. Anyway, he seems to have a better grip on the situation then either of us has. So, until proven wrong, I'll let him run this show."

"Have you noticed Sitar?" piped up Annabelle. "He seemed positively shocked when Ian called him on his duty to the Throne."

"Weren't you?"

"You know I was; I never thought Ian would use this to keep his brother in line!"

"It reached its intended purpose. I think Sitar is finally starting to use his brain again rather then his guts to think! It also had the same impact on Harp, my dear, even if Harp was less far gone then Sitar in the outer field."

"It had that impact on all the protectors, Harold. Thorsten, Typhoon, all of them received the slap in the face for what it was: a call to duty and obedience to the Throne, a reminder of who was the Liege Lord here," said Diamondcutter.

"I admit that positive things began to emerge from that meeting right after Ian blasted Sitar. It became apparent to all that Ian would not put up with loose elements, be it in the lower ranks or in the top hierarchy. Even I got kicked in the butt! And, in hindsight, I deserved it! It is I that should have taken charge, and I failed miserably to do so. Annabelle, I am so proud of what Ian accomplished today, you cannot even imagine how much!" replied Harold.

"Don't worry, I feel the same. Atlantis has a fine heir to the Throne."

***

Come nones, the plaza was packed solid, all of its four million square feet of hexagonal black granite occupied, even the fountain at the centre, and where once stood hangman's tree, the gibbet, the wheel, the pylori, and the whipping pole had all been removed. Only remained the axe man's log, with a very threatening executioner plainly in sight with a double-headed axe!

"Ian goes for the throat with that exhibition of power dad," said Paschal as he surveyed the scene from the steps of the castle.

"Given these people do not understand the message any other way, I'm not going to intervene in his methods."

As nones rang at the tower, Ian stood up, and in a single move of the hand, imposed total silence on the multitude.

"The convocation to be here at nones was clear to all. Every single house was visited; our healers healed those that had trouble moving or were bed-ridden. Those women who were going to bring child or had just recently done so were moved to Thebes. This city should be empty of inhabitants except in this place. Those who are not here have forfeited their life and are now going to die!" his childish but chilling voice resonated across the huge agora. "Executioner, here are the culprits!"

Twenty-eight persons materialised on the platform where the axe man was waiting, in plain view of the multitude. Twenty-two men and six women suddenly found themselves ported beside the executioner, bound and gagged. Most looked around, wide-eyed, not understanding what had brought them to this place.

"Do your office!" thundered Ian.

The executions went promptly, as blood gushed and sprayed those in the front lines of spectators. As each head fell, a spike appeared below the now blood-soaked boards of the platform, dripping from blood between the cracks. Each spike was decorated with a head, and a drawing explaining the circumstances that had them late at the only really important appointment of their life. The bodies were disposed in a communal ditch; deep enough not to supply the orcs with food once the city would be abandoned. As the last head fell, and the last body vanished, the executioner cleansed his axe ostensibly, clearly demonstrating it was ready for use should the need arise.

"Ian does not pull his blows, does he?" said Diamondcutter, as he watched the executioner's actions.

"No, he doesn't, but I admit it is effective; had I acted like this in Elvin Woods, no one would have dared try to harm Enron. He's making his point crystal clear: do not mess with me!"

"It is very effective indeed. I have cold sweat from it, and I'm his dad!"

The executioner stepped down from the platform, his feet making suction sounds in the bloody mess, and he stood beside the row of heads, looking for the entire world as he was bored and wanted some more action. The platform vanished as well as the blood, giving the impression that the place was pristine and that nothing had happened, except for the twenty-eight stakes with gory heads marring the picture. The situation was even more unnerving to the spectators for it told them that they could vanish without a trace and no one would be the wiser.

***

Ian stood up and began speaking again.

"Enough with the festivities! Let's get down to business! There have been all sorts of rumours concerning us, all more off base then the others. You will now experience what we experienced, in minute, gory detail, smell, feeling, taste, eyes and hearing! You will feel what we felt for the past years, the almost five horrendous years that have seen my dad leave this city to become Pharaoh Horus, king of Kings. You will see the betrayal, the blood, the guts, and you will discover what we discovered in your kingdom when we came to visit! For this was supposed to be a diplomatic trip; but it turned out into a royal rescue mission as the legitimate heir of your kingdom was being held hostage by an usurper! You will visit with us the place he was held, the horrible things we have seen, discovered, and found! If, after viewing and knowing what we know, if after experiencing what we experienced, you still judge us on rumours, then you will be left to your fate!"

Ian became a ball of pure rotating energy, and instantly, everyone in the agora fell into catatonic sleep, unable to move. Each person lived in deep, bloody and heart-wrenching detail the past five years of the Atlanteans. Many would have wanted to close their eyes, silence their ears, puke in horror, or faint, but Ian spared them nothing, absolutely nothing of the gristly details. By compline, all was done; an almost five hour long three-dimensional full immersion movie of the history of the defence of the Elvin kingdom against its internal and external foes, and a review of the history of the world and what had happened far and wide.

As Ian returned to his human form, the hypnotic spell broke and people collapsed on each other in utter shock. Torches had appeared between tiles, bringing light to the darkened agora. Every street was lighted a giorno, and the populace wandered home too out of it to wonder about that other miracle. No one went to bed that night as nightmares raked their minds, and their stomach retched with the memory of what they had witnessed. Not a single sound was heard in the street; phantoms would have made a raucous had they dared walk the streets that night. In homes, families huddled together, shaking, wide-eyed, unable to leave each other if for a moment. Family dogs reported that entire families stayed in their living room, the dogs and pets with them, looking totally lost.

***

Antonius and Severus, which had begun to doubt Harold, returned home in no better condition then others. The only thing Antonius noticed during the trip back was he no longer felt pain in his hips as he walked. He wrote it off to shock. Antonius's valets and staff walked back with him and Severus, quiet and trembling from the emotional overload. They were not the only ones that refused to break the almost religious meditation; the feeling was general and followed by all. It was not a minute of silence; it was hours as people digested the experience.

Severus noticed the change in his grandfather, and worried about his condition. Was the old man so out of it he stopped feeling things? Then, how come the streets were brighter than at sext? Could it be they had spent days at the agora, standing there? It sure felt like it, but, as he looked at the other members of the household, he had to admit it could not have been that long; those that shaved only showed stubbles, no more then a late night shadow. His grandfather could not be used as a marker since he wore a rather impressive beard, and Severus was too young to sprout any, not even the hint of a moustache.

The arrival at the house was quiet; the fact that his bird still had water and food reinforced Severus' conclusion that it had not been that long since he had left the house; The house dog welcomed them and took the opportunity to run out in the garden to do his business, before scrambling back on the porch and requesting the door opened for his return with a quiet scratch.

The staff quietly brought out tea and cookies, understanding that anything else would be too much for anyone. Then everyone munched on the sweets, content to be home and reviewing what they had witnessed. Some sat, stone-faced, slightly shaking, while others cuddled, weeping silently in each other's arms.

Severus looked at his grandpa and held him in a comforting gesture; in a total reversal of the reaction one would have normally found between the grandson and the grandfather. The long night began as, outside, darkness returned when the strange lights faded slowly.

***

In the palace, the mood was far from festive. Everyone had similar worries on their mind: would Ian's actions pull the trick and bring the citizens to better understanding of their new, if temporary, rulers? Would they gain what was expected from these facts and what motivated their actions? Only the next few days would tell.

No one slept much that night, except maybe Ian, and everyone understood why: that feat of magic had needed a considerable amount of energy, and had resonated across the planet like an everlasting gong. Anyone with a minimum of magical sense felt the change, and, if few understood the true power and meaning involved, some understood quite too well that a new age had been born.

None more so then the Minotaur, who felt his archenemy close, so close, yet so far! The shock was so strong he fell down a rocky slope, comatose for hours. He woke up at dawn, Edward sitting beside him and wiping his brow with water. Edward had found the Minotaur at the bottom of the pile of rocks, and, in a gesture he could not even understand himself, had refused to kill his defenceless enemy in an act of chivalry he might one day come to regret or be thankful for. That morning, the two fed on some small fruits, shared water, and began to walk northward along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico, the Minotaur leading, the other one following, not exchanging a word.

***

It was tierce before anyone stirred in the city or palace. Even babies had stayed quiet, refusing to nurse or cry in the stillness of the homes. As people began to move around, light breakfast was taken, and then people congregated to different agora, plazas, places, and squares to exchange their impressions and memories of the previous day's events. No one would ever be able to forget the experience and what he or she had learned about the Atlanteans but even more about the gentry of their city.

As the day wore on, the city's activity restarted, and by sext, things were, in all appearances, back to normal. The Atlanteans let out a breath of relief, as it seemed Ian's gambit had paid off. The canines or the army reported no signs of disturbances. The royals still did not let the guard down, well aware that a spark could trigger a blowout in a tinderbox.

"Should we get ready to move to the next settlement or city?" asked Enron that evening.

"No, if we move now, we have a potential for disaster in our back," decided Sitar, getting a nod from Ian.

"How long before we move then? This city cannot support us indefinitely, and some time in the future the usurper will hear of us. I would much like to take him by surprise."

"He probably will hear of Bam-Bam before he hears of this place, Enron. If he applies logic he will think the invasion is coming from the south, and will move accordingly. Annabelle, you know the disposition of that kingdom; where is the next settlement?"

"The next one is half a day away, a small village; the next worthwhile and defendable position is three days away, along the Hud. Then the next one is more inland. York¹⁸¹⁸ ("York: New York, New York.") was a prime target of the Ancients during their war and got rained on by the Atom God. What is left of the city is so hot you have to keep at least one hundred miles upwind to be safe, and when the wind changes, it's more like stay in the mountains with one between you and the air flow."

"That is not encouraging!"

"No, it is not, but it is also an advantage for us: the legions are unlikely to travel along the Arc of Safety because it will be snowed deep, and the winter is setting in."

"It is also an inconvenience Annabelle. I was hoping we could take them by speed."

"I would not worry about the weather or the snow dad," said Ian cryptically.

The others looked at the prince, wondering what he had up his non-existent sleeves.

"What is this Arc of Safety you refer to?" asked Diamondcutter.

"This is a road that travels along an a rather complicated path while staying within a safe distance from York and other rather hot spots along the coast. It begins at somewhat north of Boson¹⁹¹⁹ ("Boson: Boston."), and ends way south of Bam-Bam, near a place called House. The east coast got pummelled during the nuclear war."

"Much like the west coast, Annabelle," replied Diamondcutter.

"What are its characteristics?" Iridia wondered.

"There are many. I know that Harold has travelled it during his apprenticeship, because it is the usual road followed by those wishing to gain companionship, as there is a wide variety of companions, masters and grand masters along the way and big and small settlements that give an apprentice experience. It is also true for the Legions, that gain experience by being stationed at different places and deal with ever increasing conditions and populations."

"What I would like to get a better understanding of is the military situation."

"There, I can be very informative. There are shelters against the radiation all along the Road, and flags every mile or so that indicate the direction of the prevailing wind. You have to look at the flag to try and estimate the risk, and the base of the flag post is painted yellow with a red segment indicating when the wind is dangerous or not."

"I don't understand?" Samson interrupted.

"Well, suppose the flag is pointing so it is in the yellow area, it is risky, there are chances a sudden wind change would bring the flag into the red area, indicating that you are exposed to radiations. When it points away from the red area, it is relatively safe, but the flagpole still is yellow, because a sudden wind change is still possible. It is a constant reminder that things are unstable."

"Ok, I get it. What else?"

"Within the shelters, there is a direct view of the flag, which always marks its entrances; the legions stay put when the conditions are unstable, moving out to reach the next shelter only when things are acceptable. The shelters are rather huge, being mostly empty nowadays; they were probably designed to shelter civilians and most never made it."

"Will taking these shelters be possible?" wondered Harp.

"I doubt it. They are all underground, at least ten feet thick of concrete, and steel doors that must be opened from the inside."

"Don't worry about that mom. I'm sure they were not designed to hold sway against magical beings!" replied Ian, with an evil grin.

"If I understand this, there are shelters every mile?"

"It's not that, the distance between shelters can vary, from several miles to a mile or less, but a shelter may cover several miles underground. It is how the Arc of Safety manages to cover these areas where there are no hills to protect us from the Breath of Death."

"You mention that the northern end of that arc is at Boson? Where is that, relative to Riverside?"

"Riverside is in the mountains, along the Hud which, if the Ancients' maps is correct, emptied itself in the ocean near York. It is not possible to verify this, since getting near is a death sentence. The road south of Riverside has to travel and twist a lot before joining the Arc. There are other settlements in the mountains, but generally, they are seasonal, being occupied for lumber during the winter and then the logs are floated down as the camp is abandoned during the summer."

"Why is that?"

"Mosquitoes by the millions make it impossible to survive in the bogs. And there are mutant insects that are not to be ignored as well. Have you ever seen a foot-long cockroach with orange to red markings on its shell? I bet not! It's carnivorous! They are the fire cockroaches. They feed on animals dead or alive, and proliferate immediately after a forest fire, a period of abundance for them with the numerous dead animals found on the ground, the nests, the trees, and even underground. And their bite is so nasty that you think a firebrand has hit you. And they live in colonies of several millions! Even the orcs make sure not to cross the path of a colony on the move! Their only natural enemy is the fire ant, which, while being smaller, are even more numerous."

Figure 5: A Fire cockroach on a Burned Log

"That might be useful, Annabelle. Imagine pitting the cockroaches against the orcs in the tunnels!"

"The poor orcs do not deserve that! They may be horrible, but I feel a family bond to them compared to cockroaches!" said Sitar, gulping hard.

"Don't go sentimental on me, Sitar. I doubt they would return the favour."

"Anyway, back to the plans. We get out of here, head south and east; take everything until we meet the Arc of Safety. Then what next?" Sitar replied to divert the topic. "Do we turn north or south when we reach the Arc?"

"We turn south. I want to get to the usurper as quickly as possible. The legionnaires in the northern segment of the arc stand next to no chance faced with us, and they will be stuck in the tunnels until the snow melts. By then we should have reached the capital of this place, and disposed of the king, and probably catch his own legions in the rear, in effect finishing that war before winter sets in. We clean up the kingdom as we go, so the northern legions are faced with empty settlements and no backup. When we reach the southern end, in or near House, we port back to the bunker along the Hud. We practice scorched earth by blowing up everything behind us, move to take the residuals that we will have missed in the northern part of the Arc and retire to the Elvin kingdom, leaving nothing standing in our path."

"That sounds like a demolition derby, Ian."

"It's not: do you want to give shelter to orcs or other pests, like crocodile priests?"

"No, not really interested," replied Paschal.

"Do we leave troops to occupy the tunnels?"

"I do not see why. We leave a couple of legions at the junction with the arc, but that is all. That is so any courier gets intercepted as well as any troop movement. The rest gets emptied, either they join us in our sweep south or they try to outrun the Breath."

"You seem to have a knack for alternatives that aren't real ones, Ian."

"Think about it: we know what's coming. Do they really have viable alternatives? It's to live or to die. The only difference is how quickly death will come. We are only restricting their alternatives in the type of death they will get; and I'm not even sure the Breath of the Atom God is a shorter way then the alternative we foresaw!"

"What about settlements, Ian?"

"They get the same treatment Riverside got. I hope the arrival of a massive column of troops will bring some sense in the people; if not, sense will be kicked in their butt."

"Do you think we could visit Riverside while it is still day?" asked Typhoon, with the approval of the other boys.

"I do not see why not. You guys could probably flatten the place in the blink of an eye if there were any trouble. Anyway, I need to rest; you boys are adding ten years per day to my age."

"Stop complaining dad! You probably enjoyed yesterday's show more then we did!" replied Harp.

"Anyway, we will go visit Antonius and Severus to get a sense of the city's pulse," decided Sitar.

***

The boys shifted to wolf shape to go unnoticed in the city. They rightfully thought that the city slickers did not know the difference between a wolf and a big dog and could not differentiate one from the other. A dragon form might have been nice, but was a bit too visible, especially if they took on their full adult form!

First, Enron brought them to the trading district; well aware it was where he had done the most damage. As he passed the Diviners Chapter, he pointed it out to Sitar and the others. The front door lay ajar, and the decorated spikes were still present. The smell of rotting flesh and dried blood was overwhelming. People walked around the area in a wide berth, clearly trying to stay as far away from the building as possible.

«That place is a hygiene risk!» said Paschal.

«I know, but since this city will be evacuated tomorrow morning, I don't give a damn. It serves its purpose by staying the way it is,» replied Harp.

The dogs they met along the way informed them of the situation in different homes, and of the discussions occurring within the chapters of the trades. As they came close to Antonius' villa, they saw a whole train of barouches parked in the square leading to the house. The boys looked at the armouries marking the doors of each one, and came to a conclusion: just about every order, guild, or trade union was represented in the collection. The boys made their way across the packed square, walking slowly under the horses, which remained perfectly serene given that Ian and Silver Moon were reassuring them. Reaching the grid, they found it closed, but the smell on the sidewalk and pavements across the locked entry told them there had been a constant procession of people walking in and out of the place.

«We need to ring the door. Which one of us is less known in human form?»

«Why bother changing, Ian? Watch!»

Typhoon stood on his hind legs, well over eight feet tall, and grabbed the rope that would ring the bell and call for service with his maw. The first one that came to the door was a man in his late thirties, and seeing the dog pack at the door, was ready to turn back when he saw the huge gold dog pull insistently on the bell rope, eye red with fire. Eyes wide, he ran inside and hollered for Antonius to check on the devil at the door. The old man did not understand the reference to an imaginary figure and sent his grandson to answer to the annoying bell that kept ringing like the tocsin of the Last Judgement.

Severus ran out to the front yard and saw the big dog ringing the bell with all he was worth. Then he saw the same eyes he had seen in the golden boy and he understood. The dog was the boy or whatever. He figured he might as well open the entrance and he quickly ran to the release the locket and open it.

"Welcome prince Typhoon. Who are your friends?"

Obtaining a growl as an answer, Severus laughed. "Sorry, I do not speak doggy!" which earned him another growl. "Anyway, come in, and follow me to the house. I am sure there must be a reason for your visit!"

The arrival of the wolves stopped the discussion cold. Everyone present in the grand hall of the villa eyed the animals with circumspection, wondering what was up with the dog pack.

"Grandpa, I suspect we have been asked to report to the palace by the king."

"What makes you think so?" replied Antonius as he stood up, not discarding his grandson's idea out of hand.

"Look at the big yellow dog!" which earned Severus another growl. "He has the same eyes as the gold boy we met at the palace, and the fur has the same pattern of gold."

As Severus explained his observations to Antonius, the others observed the dog, and had to admit the similarities were stunning. Maybe the boy had a point.

«Should we convert? I did not expect to fall into such a meeting.»

«We might as well do so. If ever there is a chance to measure the situation in town, this is one," replied Harp. After getting the approval from everyone, the boys began taking their human shapes, to the total shock and gasp of the assembled gentry of the trades.

***

"Severus, I must commend you for your sense of observation. It is rare someone recognizes us in one of our alternative shapes," said Typhoon.

"So, if I understand you, you have many?"

"Yes, quite a few. But you did confuse a dog and a wolf. Given you probably never saw a wolf, it is excusable."

"May I welcome you in my humble home, kings and princes of Atlantis. My memory and sense of observation is not what it used to be, as Severus has so kindly pointed out to me during our first meeting, so please forgive an old man for the blunders of protocol he is bound to make."

"No need to worry about protocols. I'm nude!" replied Ian. "Now, if I was wearing a breechcloth, then it would be the time to worry and to tear your hair out!"

"Can I offer you anything?"

"We need nothing, Antonius. However, since we see everyone has tea, may we indulge in gaining some too?" Harp replied.

A couple of hand slaps brought a server to the room and, in five minutes, a procession of tea cups, pots, tables and seats were brought in to accommodate the new visitors. The already half-empty pots present in the room were replaced with fresh infusions, and a collection of finger food brought in.

"Now that everyone is seated, may I enquire as to the reason of your visit, Prince Ian?" asked Antonius, quite aware that even if the boy was the youngest and the less clad of his visitors, he was the highest ranking amongst the high ranking in his home.

"The reason is simple Antonius. We need to know how things are evolving in the city. We came to see you, expecting you to be alone since you are retired; it came to us as a surprise to see all those carriages in the square, and then finding all these visitors. Since you are all here, it was decided to get a wider spectrum of opinions from all of you and not only from Antonius," replied Ian as he looked at the assembled people, his eyes bright and sharp. His articulate answer surprised the much older and seasoned men and women present in the room. If some had thought they had seen things in the city agora, the presence of the nude boy enlightened them. This was a king, prince in name only, and one not to underestimate.

"We have our spies, but we need to know how you plan to influence the populace." Ian sat and took a sip of the hot beverage, showing to all he had royal manners to the fingertips.

Being the oldest and in his home, it fell on Antonius to answer the new visitors' questions. The first comment Antonius made was not what the other members of the trades had expected.

"You mentioned, prince Ian, that, and I cite, 'it was decided to get a wider spectrum of opinions', and before that, you said, and again I cite, 'finding all those visitors' as if you did not know we were assembled here. Given the second citation, I must conclude you and your friends were surprised, and second, that you discussed the necessity to talk to us, while in, err, wolf form?"

The acute sense of observation of Antonius slapped the other members of the trades in the face and brought a huge smile from Severus, as he blinked at his grandfather and showed him a thumb up.

"It is quite an astute series of deductions, Antonius. Indeed we debated amongst ourselves of the pertinence of revealing our shape-shifting capacities, and finding no justifiable reason to hide it and seeing a lot to be gained by bringing it to light, we proceeded to shift shape in your presence. As to how we debated, we used telepathy. We are many, we are one, and we are infinite in numbers and variety. Your other visitors should heed Severus' sense of observation and acute thinking, Antonius. He asked the question earlier about our shape shifting, and Typhoon quite honestly answered. How many of you remember either the question or the dragon prince's answer?"

None had noticed the quick-witted exchange and were now chewing their knuckles for their stupidity.

"Let this be a lesson to you trades masters: youth is not necessarily clueless. We have many shapes, as Typhoon briefly explained to Severus and you all, since you were in the same room."

After taking another sip of tea, Ian eyed Antonius questioningly. The old man took his cue: it was time he began answering the implicit question these eyes bespoke of.

"Prince Ian, we were debating, prior to your arrival, on how to contact you to understand clearly what our options were. We understand your army will be leaving along the south route to follow the Hud, there being nothing north of us you haven't yet flattened; honestly, we do not know how we could contribute to your war efforts since we have no knowledge of your needs. We need to explain to the people what is expected of them, but we do not know what to tell them. For now the city is in too much shock to think this out, but it will not last, and questions concerning the citizens' futures will begin to arise, first in the chronically insecure, namely the poor, then in the gentry. When you leave, we fear that those still harbouring ideas of grandeur and power amongst the deceased duke's units will try to tax the town and bring it to its knees, thinking, rightly or wrongly, that you will be too busy south to care about what happens here."

"You cannot contribute in any way to our war effort. Your legions are so ill trained they would slow us down; we collected one such centurie on our way here, and we had our youngest of the youngest babysitting them. Their equipment was totally inadequate, their training dismal, their physical fitness dire. And I'm not talking about green foot soldiers, but seasoned ones! The discipline in the legions that pretend to defend this kingdom is so shameful we managed to take their camp and kill all the duke's cronies without even getting a scrape. To be honest, you are in the way."

"What do you plan to do then? Abandon us?"

"Certainly not, even if the idea has crossed my mind. You deserve a chance. We will move everyone that wishes it, even the entire population if it is required, back to our kingdom. Now, before you panic and tell us it is impossible to cross the mountains in the winter, may we remind you we just did, and did not lose a single wolf or child? For us, the word impossible has been removed from the dictionary."

The tradesmen looked at Ian with wide eyes, not really understanding how this feat could be accomplished. Ian saw the exchange and the unspoken question. He demonstrated by porting himself to the end of the room; suspend his body in mid-air and then port right back in the chair he had been sitting in. Then he ported Severus, chair, teacup and all, right around the room.

"This is how we actually move, ladies and gentlemen. We move entire armies that way, whole towns, stock, lock and barrel. We will be doing this with Riverside and every settlement and city of the kingdom, immediately after cleaning them up of seedy characters, just like we did here. I must warn you, not everything will be moved. We need not carry another damn castle! Especially since this one is of such shoddy construction! It's a miracle it stands! We feel it sway under the wind!"

"But it is hard masonry!" replied the Masons Order Master, shocked.

"True, but the architect that drew this place never understood the nature of stress and forgot to put some vital buttresses to support the outer wall. The dome of this room is on the verge of splitting because the keystone is moving too much and grinding the joints that keep it in place," explained Paschal. "Just look above, and you see the radial fissures spreading!"

The Order Master did as Paschal asked and his face turned whiter then chalk.

"How long?"

"Before the collapse? I would say six months at most, and a good winter storm could speed this process considerably!"

"Imhophet, can you assess the city's condition?"

"I have been doing this as we conquered it. The bridges will hold for another five or six years at most, but their pillars are being eaten away by ever thicker ice; the walls are crumbling from everywhere; the ice on the river will shortly be thick enough the orcs could attack it from every side, and the walkways along the defence walls are in such a bad condition they give advantage to the orcs, not the defenders. The only reason the orcs have not done so yet is that they are too busy digging tunnels to get to us, and they have yet to discover snowshoes. Most of the houses have been so badly maintained they are dangerous to their occupants, I wonder how come no one complains about leaky roofs! Even the Masons' Chapter is a shame. Didn't you ever notice that the main doorframe is twisted, sir? As for ornaments that are all over the facades, I'm surprised there isn't any more death from falling debris. I was wondering why people walked in the middle of the street until I saw a piece of an overhang crash down on the sidewalk, while people scurried to get away from the rebounding pieces of rock. I just hope there won't be an earthquake while we are here. We might lose more men from it then from the enemy!"

"Who are you, young man? I have never heard such a scathing description of our city."

"I am Paschal Imhophet, Great Grand Architect of Atlantis, architect of the Great Pyramids, of Kantar, the third capital of Atlantis, and of Thebes, where your people will be moved if they so choose, our new consolidated capital, founder of the Masons Order, as this shows," said Paschal, showing his key.

The Great Grand Master Mason fainted as he recognized the ultimate symbol of the Order in the hands of the boy.

"Should I dunk him in the Hud?" asked Ian.

"Let's be charitable for once," said Harp as he materialised five gallons of water with ice cubes right above the unconscious man. "Sorry for your chair and carpet, Antonius!"

"It's nothing. It was due for replacement. It's being devoured by mites."

"And your chair is holding by sheer will, as the termites are probably ready to retire from the banquet!" added Sitar. "Your entire house is infested with them, Antonius. You may not hear them, but we hear the beasts feasting on your lumber. At some point, this house will collapse on itself. Ladies and gentlemen, I have in memory the visit Enron did to your halls, and you have nothing to gloat about! Enron was worried of raising his voice for fear the ceilings would collapse!"

"Actually, ladies and gentlemen, the houses are mostly trash and will be destroyed immediately after the population moves out to Thebes. We will bring only the strict minimum. You will receive new housing, new tools, and fresh stock for your trade. You will also get complete refresher courses in these trades as well. Atlanteans do not put up with shoddy work, and if you want to keep your head on your shoulders, you will conform to our expectations. Promotions are earned, not bought. If you are incompetent in your trade, do not expect to retain your titles."

The number of white faces facing Harp told the story more clearly then any speech would ever do it: many had done just that and bought their position with money rather then true competence.

"How do you judge competence?"

"By results!" said Sitar as he pulled out Excalibur. "Antonius, judge!"

Paschal did the same with Mitsuko, while Harp brought out Bata, Enron took his bow and quiver of arrows, Ian his stave and set of knives, and Thorsten pulled out his axe and hammer. Then the princes removed their velvet clothes and revealed their mithril chainmail, incrusted with diamonds the size of fists. It was the turn of the Jewellers Master to collapse unconscious on the ground at the sight of these marvels worth many kings' ransom. This time, it was Ian that did the wake up dousing.

"Well, Antonius," said Sitar, growing impatient.

"I know of your blade. Companion Harold, Pharaoh Horus, made it for his companionship. I regretted all those years not giving him the title of Grand Master, by-passing all these intermediate steps, but honestly, his work is that of a Great Grand Master of the Blade, surpassing even what I could have accomplished in my best years. The other blade is old, and reveals an ancient technique long lost, a work of art, the work of another Great Grand Master, no doubt. It is nonetheless of lesser quality than the one produced by Harold, which surpasses all I have ever seen. I told Severus many times I could die in peace, I had seen the work of the God of the Forges."

"What about these arrows?" asked Enron, knowing they had been forged by elves and were of the best quality.

"The quality and balance of these arrows is superb." Grabbing the bow, Antonius examined it. "And this bow far surpasses what even I could produce in my best days."

Looking at Bata, his eyes widened. "I have seen this once. An old man, who looked grey from age, not only his hair, but also his skin, carried it. He was looking for someone, I hope he found him."

"Yes he found him, but too late to pass to him all his secrets. He was looking for Harold, Antonius. I am this old man. I remember you, with a lot less dark circles around the eyes; your hair still showed traces of blond. I am Harp Merlin, Great Grand Mage of Atlantis, founder of the Order of the Mages."

Too shocked to comment, the old man turned to Ian's collection of weapons. "Now I recognize the work of Harold again. That stave is all his style, and those knives are also worth a King's ransom individually. I remember he made himself one, but is this the one?"

"Yes, it is the one. I adjusted it for my height."

"You adjusted it?"

Ian flicked the stave in his hand and it elongated to its original six and a half feet. "As you see, this is a bit cumbersome given my stature." Flicking it again, the stave shrank to five feet, the preferred length for Ian.

Finally turning to Thorsten, Antonius examined the axe, whistling in admiration. This was an axe the like of which he had never seen. "This is remarkable work. It is very old indeed, but yet reminds me of Harold's work. I sense something here I do not understand. Will you explain?"

"After you examine the other piece, Antonius," replied Thorsten, smiling.

"Ah, the hammer." Antonius had difficulty lifting it, wondering how Thorsten could carry it as if it was a feather. With the help of a sweating and swearing Severus, he examined the piece carefully.

"This hammer is as remarkable as the axe, and seems to be as old as it is, yet I see no trace of rust or wear. I notice it carries a maker's mark, which reminds me of another one; come to think of it, the axe also carries this mark! So the same person must have made them. The hammer is well balanced, even if I have problems lifting it; it must allow powerful but precise blows; it is also a hammer with a dual purpose: to forge and to fight. I wonder how you manage to carry it."

"A quite remarkable expertise there, Antonius. These were made by Thor, the God of the Forges, and given to us as a sign of friendship and to ensure the safekeeping of the God's Hammer and Shield until such time he came back to claim them. They have been hidden in the dwarfs' midst and mark the recognition of the Heir to the Throne of our people and the King until such time as a new heir is born and judged worthy to bear them. It is Thor himself that gave them to me when I ended up regent while dad was ill. These impediments of royalty date from so long ago we have lost count of the number of years, although Thorus says he gave them to us seventeen thousand years ago. Who would I be to dispute a God's assertion? And yes, Antonius, the founder of the Ironsmiths and Weapons smiths Order made these. You do not remember where you saw the mark, you said. Yet it is registered in your books, and it is recent, it dates less then five years."

"How can that be?"

"Look under Harold, Antonius. It is his mark you see on these weapons. He is Thor, or for our people, Thorus, and for the Atlanteans, Horus. He need not be recognized by the Order as great grand master for he is the Order. And you, jeweller, look at these mithril vests, they too were made by Thor. They show how fine a workman he is. The one I wear is as old as the hammer and axe; but those you see on the other boys were made much more recently, as Harold was finding some free time from his duties as king. I saw him create them, and I learned at his forge like a new apprentice, even if the dwarfs recognized me as a master workman. It is under his supervision that I really learned the meaning of unfathomable well of ignorance and that it described me perfectly."

The boys recovered their respective weapons, showing in the process a handling that brought whispers of envy from the Order of the Blade Master that was training under Antonius.

***

"So, prince Ian, what should we tell the people?" enquired Antonius as everyone returned to their respective chairs.

"First, that they will be ported to our kingdom where they will be met with a task force whose job will be to ease them into our community. That, as of now, they must consider themselves Atlanteans and follow the rigorous regimen of any Atlantean; that from this day onward they are expected to be at war and that they will receive adequate training to be able to fight, survive, and contribute effectively to our war efforts. From this day forward, there is no civilians; you, your orders, guilds and trade unions are part of our war effort and must gear up to the production of weapons, contribute to the care of the sick and wounded, think of new ways to fight the orcs and crocodile priests. For us, if you can walk, you can fight! If you can ride, you can fight! Our children are taught to fight with any means at their disposal; even a baby walking on all fours knows how to bite and hold the bite until he is killed or ordered to release. We are a war machine and nothing else. There are hundreds of millions of orcs, they outnumber us ten if not one hundred to one, and we cannot, will not, give the orcs a free meal by giving them civilians to munch on!"

"How will the porting proceed?"

"Like we did everywhere else. The sick and elderly or the mother caring for babies or expecting will go first. Then the town will be evacuated quarter by quarter, minus those dumb enough to think they can outsmart the orcs when they do finally come knocking to their door, if there is a door left, that is. No children shall be left behind. Parents, adults, may stay, but children will be moved. We cannot, will not, sacrifice innocents to the stupidity and bigotry of adults too dumb to think straight! Note that those mothers currently carrying will be ported, without being asked. The orcs are too close to risk the life of unborn children on the stubbornness of some women or men."

"How close are they?"

"The first confrontation with them at the Rock of Command was less then three weeks away from Newbridge, which is now abandoned. As we crossed Newbridge, we saw it had been overrun by orcs, which means their last mayhem occurred maybe two weeks away from here and the condition of Newbridge clearly indicated the assault had occurred some time ago. They could well be watching this city from across the water as we speak. Our army and the thin ice on the rapidly flowing river is probably the only thing keeping this city safe for now, along with the fact that they are busy tunnelling."

The latest bit of news added to the assembly's worries. Finally, Antonius took the stand.

"We have enough information to order the evacuation of Riverside, ladies and gentlemen. Do we need to hold a vote?"

No one proposed a vote, and Antonius slammed his gavel on the table in front of him, table that resolved itself into a fine dust and a flurry of termites. Antonius ignored the situation and stood up.

"It is now decreed that Riverside will be evacuated within best delays, with the help of the Atlanteans, to their kingdom in a city they name Thebes. It is so ordered! Is there anything else to discuss?"

No one raised a topic so the assembly was dissolved and the leaders of the different trade unions retired to their chapters to implement the evacuation order.

"Antonius, Severus, please come to the palace with us. We will immediately evacuate your staff on Thebes, as soon as you have called them to the hall. Antonius, your rare trees and plants will be moved to the Eden project so they will not be lost. Do not worry, Severus, your bird will be taken care of by the elves at the Ark. Your dog is now incorporated in the Sixth dog army as he wished; so is your buggy horse, Antonius; he is being moved to join the packhorse unit that will be ported to the next target down the southern road. Our wolves units have already cleared the road of orc forward units, making our displacement invisible to the enemy. The farms past the next settlements will be evacuated over the next days. We have an army to get on the move and we will not be coming back here. Your personal goods are already stored in boxes and in Thebes at the royal palace. Let's leave."