The Prophesy: Book 3 - The Hammer of Atlantis

 

The first thing that the Atlanteans did was to occupy the lowest level of the bunker where they had left the centurie on watch. Direct porting of centuries from the southern end of the Arc of Safety to this new staging area took time. The whole day was spent at it.

"Where is the orc column that's following us?" asked Annabelle.

"The triggers show they are still five days behind us, entering the last bunker. They are slowing down."

"Slowing down? Why?"

"Radiation fatigue, mom. They have been exposed to a lot of it, since they have no warning about the winds from the ocean side wind, and have gotten themselves severely irradiated while following us to the blast site of Washton."

"They went that far?"

"Yes, mom. Stupidity is endemic in them. It took them some time to find the passage we had made from the northern bunker to the southern bunker. By then about a third of the troops had been irradiated beyond surviving a few more days."

"Well it must not smell roses in these bunkers now, not that it did anyway."

"Knowing orcs, they probably ate their fellow irradiated kinsmen. Orcs are not likely to leave anything rot."

"Paschal, you are disgusting."

"Mom, orcs are disgusting. Describing their behaviour therefore must be disgusting."

"Let's get back to our current situation. Centurion? Report the situation in the upper levels."

"Yes Legate. The situation is as follows. There are sporadic pockets of orcs following the trail you left while going south. Initially, the traffic was intense, numbering in the several thousands per hour. None has entered the northern section of the T that is this rat hole."

"Good. When was the last packet? And what was its size?"

"The last group passed yesterday. There were six thousand orcs in it. About average since the number has dropped from continuous to sporadic."

"Have you noticed any pattern or regularity in the intervals between passages by the orcs?" Sitar asked.

"Orc formations enter every two days. Their next group should enter late tonight, and be on its way southward quite a distance from this area by prime."

"And has anyone tried to enter lower levels?"

"Some. They died before reaching our level. Your booby traps worked marvels."

"Let's rest for the night. No one is to go to level three or higher. Let the booby traps continue their work," ordered Harold.

"Should we bring the dragon shape-shifters in?"

"Yes, Paschal, tell them to shift to human form at ten thousand feet and then port them free-fall to the fourth level. It would not be good to get spotted now," decided Harold.

***

The night passed quietly. Matins saw the passage of another contingent of orcs headed south and by prime their thumping could no longer be heard. After eating cold for the nth time, the legions departed for the northern exit of the shelter while staying in the fourth level. To insure that no legion from the north was headed south along the branch of the T at the first level, Enron took the appearance of a bat and flew the upper layers of the shelter, porting across sealed airlocks to progress further north.

It served its purpose as he met head on a legion headed south for another stationing, The legion, composed of recruits, was barely fifteen airlocks beyond the branch the orcs were using. Paschal and the other royals quickly ported the legion to Eloise for vetting by the mages, and continued north.

The wind at the exit was favourable, if a gale-force wind blowing from the west can be called that, but at least it pushed the radiation over the sea. The Atlanteans trudged through a thick layer of snow, with road conditions best described as dismal. The wind was well over fifty miles per hour, and ice crystal stung everyone. The royals issued blankets heated by magic, and felt-packed boots, even the Canines and Equines.

"When is the next bunker?"

"If you mean how far, about one hundred and sixty miles, Sitar. We should reach it by vespers in thee days," replied Paschal. It's the end of the chain, and just beyond is the village of Boson."

"Here come three days of misery. Too bad porting is out of the question given the weather, " Thorsten replied

"I prefer bad weather to getting cooped up in a rat hole," Ian answered, having recovered his jovial nature after the death of the Minotaur.

"Anyway, we were growing soft in the nice weather south!"

"Talk for yourself, Sitar! Ah the nice radioactive beaches of the House Flats! All the pre-cooked lobsters! The skating on glassy sand!"

"You are nuts, Enron!"

"And that's why you like me so much!"

***

The troops came on the Boson bunker four days later. It was closed, as anyone would have expected given the weather.

«What now?»

«Port the elite intervention unit across!» ordered Harold.

Harp led the mages across the steel doors to a relatively empty hall. The boys made their way across the quiet, dark hall silently to the doors' opening mechanism. Harp set a defensive ward that would prevent them from being taken by surprise, and then the boys studied the mechanism. It was a rotating drum where men could walk inside, that would rotate an unending screw mechanism.

"Angostini! Ten mages and you get to the sister mechanism and take control of it. Try not to be detected! If you are, expedite the nosy individual to Eloise for processing."

"Yes, Prince of Magic!"

The decade moved off and silently proceeded across the hall, undetected. A noisy party had erupted at the far end of the hall, headed for the mess hall, and this covered any noise the boys might have made. Their dull black vestments, which included hoods to hide hair, and face masks, made them all but invisible in the dark hall. Shoes made of corkwood insured silent displacement. They even had black leather gloves. After fifteen minutes, Angostini informed the other mages that had stayed with Harp they had reached the other side without incident and taken control of the doors' opening mechanism.

«Ok. I'll be going to the hall to remove the wood beams they have installed. When I'm done I'll tell you and you begin opening the doors. Don't forget to cast silencing charms!»

Harp moved back down the spiralling staircase and crept across the hall. The group that had walked into the hall was now in the mess eating some food. Harp listened to the conversations that floated across the echo-prone hall and found a place were he could hear the legionnaires talk while being able to do his own work.

Harp began by porting the upper beams of wood to the Atlantic. The wood had become irradiated over time and he saw no interest in bringing them into the Elvin Kingdom. As he progressed downward, the yelling of angry voices from the mess hall caught his attention. He listened to the exchange more carefully.

"I will not open those doors even if the Atom God asked me to!" yelled one voice.

"You will, or I'll report you to the king and you will be fed to the fire cockroaches, alive!"

"To report me, ass hole, you must be alive!"

"I say open those doors now!"

"And I won't order it! The gale outside has not abated and we would freeze our ass off if we got out in that weather!"

"I can have you roasted in hell!"

"Given how long I've been freezing my nuts here, getting them roasted would be a welcomed change!"

"You have no idea what a mage can do, Centurion. If you think you would die quickly, you are wrong! I can make you last forever!"

"It's been forever already since you have been trying to take control of this end of the tunnel. I am in charge, and you will get that through your thick skull!"

Harp had left his station and crept closer to the mess hall. No one noticed his discreet entrance, and he took position at an angle so he could see both protagonists clearly. He noticed the self-proclaimed mage gather magical energy from the environment and enter his mage core. The prick was readying to cast a spell. Harp readied himself. As the spell left the mage to hit the stubborn Centurion, he erected a shield that stood up between the two instantly. The shield glowed an ugly dark red, turned totally black, then vanished, becoming transparent. That had been one deadly curse.

The mage and the Centurion both looked shocked.

"You didn't tell me you were a mage, Centurion!"

"I'm not but someone in this room is and is on my side, jerk!"

"Now that I know there is another mage, I'll simply make the spell more intense and focussed!"

"You should focus on protecting yourself, mage!" said the Centurion as he pulled out his sword.

The mage tried to disarm the Centurion, but the ward Harp had erected around the soldier again absorbed his spell. Understanding that magic would not be of use, the mage pulled out a sword from under his ample robe. This time, Harp sent an offensive spell that sent the sword flying across the room, much to the mage's surprise.

"It seems my secret and kind ally has more then one trick in his bag!" sneered the Centurion, as he closed in on the mage. The mage stepped back and brought up a defensive ward against the advancing centurion.

"You can hit that ward forever, Centurion, it won't break!"

The first swing of the sword produced a thud, but the second created a sound like breaking crystal. Harp had modified the resonance of the seventh dimension of the magic field, making the wall more fragile then crystal to a passing steel blade. The ward lay shattered, draining the mage's magic core as it disintegrated. The mage was taken aback by the sudden drainage, and hastily retreated out of reach of the Centurion's sword.

Harp had pondered whether to show himself or not. As he watched the ongoing fight, he had finished porting the last beams out and he signalled that the doors were ready to be opened. Then, once assured that everything was going as planned, he decided to make his presence known. He stepped into the ring of soldiers encircling the two belligerents, and, using Bata, tapped on the ground three times. The resounding bangs caught the attention of all parties. As the echo diminished, he walked closer.

"May I introduce myself? I am Harp Merlin, Great Grand Master Prince of Magic and Protector of Atlantis. You, mage, reek of black magic. What is your mission?"

"You are a child. Merlin is dead!" replied the mage.

"My old self is effectively dead. So are Meagan and her last successor, the Minotaur. Now, back to my question..."

"My mission is none of your business. I have no allegiance to you, twerp."

"True, I am just curious why you would be so north? The capital of this kingdom, for what is left of it, is way south of here! As for the twerp comment, I suggest you stay polite. The twerp in question disposed of Meagan, and my little brother disposed of the Minotaur. The twerp, here, is you."

"I had been ordered to trace a mage, Marlin. I lost his trace some years back and I've been exploring this kingdom in depth to try and find a trace of him."

"Well, your mission is over, Dark Mage. Marlin is dead to magic. I have one last question if you do not mind?"

"Bah, I had figured as much when his signature vanished but I was looking for a physical proof to bring to Meagan. It is now useless. I had hoped to garner favour from the Minotaur by bringing him that proof. Now that he has disappeared, I'll just go see how things are at the Black Magic Keep."

"Very hot, if you want to know. It's now an active volcano. I decided to get rid of the rats' nest and the rats in one full sweep."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Fine."

The mage disappeared from sight, much to the surprised of the watching soldiers.

"Where did he go?" asked the Centurion."

"He wanted to see for himself that the Keep had been converted to a volcano. I ported him right over it for a five thousand feet dive into the lava lake! Now, he really carries his name, his carcass will become burning carbon!"

The cold voice Harp used to describe the fate of the mage sent shivers down the spine of even the most seasoned legionnaires.

"What if he uses his magic to survive?"

"Oh, he will! But have you ever tried moving in rock, even if it's liquid? I tried walking on water once! Let me tell you it's not a piece of cake! He'll be standing right at the top of the lava lake trying to find an exit. His only hope is to ride a boulder ejected by the volcano, but tough luck, this volcano has very fluid lava and no bomb gets thrown out. He is powerful, but he can't port himself, he doesn't have the knowhow or he would have used it to attack you, Centurion. It will be very uncomfortable for the mage, until he gives up. He will feel the pressure increase on his magic, his magic core being solicited ever more, until he realised he has no choice but die. The crater is deep, several miles deep, and the walls are vertical."

"How long will that last?"

"It depends on his resources and his stubbornness. From a day to a month, maybe a year?"

"Remind me never to get on your bad side, Prince of Magic."

"Do I need to?"

By the end of this exchange the cold wind finally attracted the attention of the soldiers.

"Damn, it's cold!" commented a legionnaire, standing near the mess' exit.

Just then, Harold walked in, accompanied by Sitar and Thorsten.

"Ah, there you are son! I was expecting to find you at the doors?"

"I had to dispose of a Black Mage. We assumed, wrongly, we had got rid of all of them, but, apparently, it was not the case."

"Our foes seem to sprout behind every tree. No war is really finished it seems."

"You should know that, Dad," commented Sitar.

After a quarter of an hour spent introducing everyone, the Centurion asked the question that had been bugging him.

"Why are you moving north? The capital is south, way south of here."

"The capital was. It no longer exists. There was a nuclear warhead, a doomsday device; it was right under the palace, and the fanatics that guarded it detonated it to stop us from taking the place. They went up in smoke, but we are still part of this world."

"I see... My only regret is that means I lost some good friends there."

"Not necessarily, if they are not part of the political appointees and fanatics to the now detained usurper, then they are safe in our kingdom."

"You get rid of court rats? Can you do that here as well? I have a couple of them in the centurie that pretend to tell me how to manage my unit!"

"You probably heard a few cries as we talked? Our wolves just gutted them. We do not bother with garbage."

"You act quickly. I like that. Where are you going?"

"To Boson. It is the only segment of the kingdom we have not yet cleaned up. We are pressed by time, which is why the army is on the march. Sitar, port the centurie to Eloise. We have a couple of days left before the events cascade in the kingdom and I want us back before they do."

"But it's five days off!"

"For you it is, for us, we will reach the exit by vespers. By matins, we will have ported everyone in Boson back to Eloise. That will close the chapter on this kingdom, and I'll be able to go home. The orcs will be surprised!"

The legionnaires found themselves in Eloise, disarmed, and then, by very rapid transit, in the containment area under Thebes. Harold and the princes quickly inserted themselves in the moving column, and progressed forward. As Harold told the Centurion, the end of the bunker was reached by vespers and everyone took a break. The last unit between them and Boson got sent to Eloise, and the royals took a long hot dinner, a nice change from the last few days, which had been field rations.

At precisely compline, the doors at the northernmost exit opened, revealing the village of Boson a quarter of a mile from it, nested in a narrow valley. The army made a mad dash for the wooden palisade, and, before the watchmen could even see them the doors went flying right over the village to hit the glacier face descending on the village from the upper valley. Wooden houses vanished and people woke up in the snow of Eloise before getting ported directly under Thebe. There was nothing worth preserving of Boson, it being a rather primitive village occupied by shepherds and a tiny fortification barely able to host a centurie. All was accomplished by matins. The kingdom of Atlanticus had lived. The royals returned to the tunnel for the rest of the night.

"Six hours sleep, then we move back to Thebes!" ordered Sitar. "We have a battle coming!"

***

The next morning, the royals first ported the sheep and cows found in the high pastures above Boson to add to their own chattel, and decontaminate them. Sheep were rare, as well as good milk-producing cows. The last to be ported to the kingdom were the shepherd dogs, some of which were showing severe signs of mistreatment, while others had radiation burns. Every animal was placed in a stasis chamber, the cows being milked before the procedure was done to prevent any trouble. By sext, half the army was back into Thebes, and the rest was sent back by nones.

"Detonate the two doors at each end. We are going home, boys!" ordered Harold as the last legionnaire disappeared.

The first detonation was at the southern end, and a few seconds after the royals had left the Boson end of the bunker, the doors were ejected high above the village, colliding at high speed with the looming face of the glacier, bringing in a powerful avalanche that buried what was left of Boson under several hundred feet of ice and dirt. Shortly, the only noise heard was the occasional roll of a loose block of rock or ice coming down in the valley. Advanced life forms had left the eastern coast.

***

The first task upon returning to Thebes for everyone was a good shower or a hot bath, and a well-deserved night's rest after a substantial meal to forget military rations! The next morning, Harold called in the princes to establish the plans for the upcoming confrontation with the orcs.

"I suggest we do another exploration of the future. Our actions outside the kingdom may have influenced the orcs' timetable," suggested Sitar.

"Proceed immediately with Ian, Harp, and Paschal. It would be useless to plan things that are based on outdated information," replied Harold.

While the four princes were busy examining the immediate future, the others discussed what had transpired of their diplomatic mission to the United Kingdoms of Americus.

"Has Angostini performed to expectations?" Nestor asked Harold.

"You will have to ask Harp. He was responsible for the Mages. I know some had problems porting, and that displeased Harp. I have no idea if Angostini is of the number."

"What will we do with the sudden surge of untrained military personnel and the population of the now defunct kingdoms?" asked Dunbar, relieved beyond common measure that Harold was back on the Throne.

"I have yet to confirm the decisions of the Mages concerning those that were earmarked for execution. That will be the first step. The next step is to proceed with a second vetting of those that have passed the test and see if there is anyone that slipped through the net. Once that is done, we incorporate the leftovers into the population. The military units get disbanded and reconstituted into distinct Atlantean units. I do not want more then ten of the old units present by hundred Atlantean. They all get into newly incorporated units, they are too green under the feet to be considered full-fledged legionnaires."

"Some won't like this!"

"Dunbar, I'll just pitch one of our four-year olds against the dumb ass and tell the fucker to try to stay alive for a minute! I've seen our kids at war during that last campaign, and believe me, they outweigh these guys by a very wide margin."

"How did the cavalry behave?" asked prince Yamato, always interested in horses, his old love.

"They were fine. Prince Agramon Silver Moon held them tight, and we also recovered several centuries of horses, most of which are under treatment for radiation poisoning as we speak. I'll wait until Paschal has done the task I asked to get more information on the progression of the process. Our wolf and dog spy units are also under decontamination. The units that came with us are also being decontaminated first, because the process will be quicker. The others are being decontaminated as quickly as possible, and then put in suspended animation until we can treat the damage in depth. It may take a year to do everyone."

"Was it that bad?" asked Williams.

"Worse then we thought. Far worse."

"Should we resume our search for life in the Pacific and Indian Ocean islands?"

"Let's wait for the report on orc activity. I may need everyone if things have not changed."

Just then, the five princes emerged from their trance. The first to speak was Sitar.

"Dad, we gained some time. Apparently the orcs planned to attack from all sides, and the defection of the orcs reserved for the eastern front has sent a wrench in their clockwork. The gain is not that great, barely thirty days. They are moving the second line from the western front along the tunnels up north to repopulate the eastern line for the offensive."

"Why do you call it a defection?"

"Apparently, those on the eastern front did not mention following an important Atlantean party; the others only know that their lines depopulated overnight. So they call this a defection and plan to make the runaway units pay dearly for doing this. Quite a few orc generals have been put on the eat on sight list."

"Aren't you mixing things? It's shoot on sight!"

"Dad, remember we are talking about orcs!"

"What else did you guys learn?"

"It's not orcs that are doing the tunnels, but some strange animal plant, a form of flexible vine. Apparently, the orcs feed it and it drills the tunnels for them. I don't understand what it could be. But it is apparently very ancient," Ian said.

"How can a plant do that?"

Enron had perked up at the mention of plants, and intervened.

"My lord, plants are well equipped to deal with rocks; their roots can crush rocks, grip to them and fracture them with terrible pressure. Vines, those that we know, use their body to strangle grown trees. They climb up rocks like alpinists and can insert themselves in the smallest crevice. But I have never heard of anything like Ian described."

"Could it be another genetic experience?"

"It is difficult to tell. We would need a genetic sample. But whatever its origins, we have to deal with it. The thing is, some plants are as hard as rock. A good example is ironwood."

"I see. Harp, you said it was an animal plant. What do you mean?"

"It is able to move on its roots, gripping the soil with the ends to hold in position."

"I wonder what the orcs feed it?" Samson wondered.

"I was wondering the same, dad, but I remembered our experience in the Pyramids. There are meat-eating plants. I wouldn't be surprised if the orcs fed the plants meat, probably their sick and disabled."

"Anyway, what matters is we gained thirty days of respite due to our activity on the eastern coast. We must put it to good use," Paschal replied.

"Ok, what do we do first?"

"Justice dad. We need to get that dealt with as quickly as possible. Some people have been in detention for nearly two months. Let's do those that did not pass first. We know what to do with them," stated, cold as ice, Ian.

"I agree. Ian's suggestion will clean up the rotten apples first. King Enron, would you mind if I sat on the bench? We have way too many to deal with."

"Dad, you are welcomed," replied Enron, as he looked first at Samson, then Diamondcutter and finally Thorsten

"I like the idea," said Thorsten. "Dad, you are hereby required to share the Royal bench with me."

"Let's all share," Harold suggested. "Harp, can you organize the Royal Hall to hold enough sessions simultaneously for all of us?"

"Let's see, I need room for you, Thorsten, Diamondcutter, Amethyst, Annabelle, Enron, Samson, Ian, Paschal, Timor, Typhoon, Sitar, Yamato, Iridia and I, for a total of fifteen audit rooms. We would be tight. I suggest using the amphitheatre we used for Ian's birthday. There is a lot of room there. It is accessible via the underground passages we have constructed in Thebes' basements."

"And how many cases are we talking about?" asked Diamondcutter.

"Thirty thousand or so. It's not too bad considering there were over three million people along the coast," Harp informed the shocked kings and princes.

"Are you telling me thirty thousand people were all that was needed to keep a kingdom's population hostage?"

"Yes, Samson."

"We need to talk to the prince we rescued first thing. How is he doing, Paschal?"

"My last report is he has recovered considerably. He is still weak, and scared of his shadow, but it is getting better."

"Can you fetch him?"

"Yes dad, I'll do so. However the distance between his room and this one is too considerable for him to walk. I'll use a wheelchair. He has a lot of recovery still to do to be able to walk more then a few hundred feet. At least he can walk."

"Ok. We'll wait. Have you a name for the child yet?" asked Annabelle.

"No, and I dare not read his mind without prior consent. He may not know it, but he is a king now."

"Ok, get going. Wheelchairs are just about unknown here, son, how do you plan to get one?"

"Magic, mom! Magic!"

***

The young prince was gently pushed into the Royal Suite by Paschal. His sea blue eyes were wide with fear and curiosity at the same time. It was his first time out of the suite that had been assigned to him by Yamato since he had been taken out of the stasis chambers a month earlier. He had no idea where he was, or who were these people. All he managed to fathom was that he was fed properly, clothed simply but warmly, and that the pain was gone, even if he still felt weak. He wondered where his family was, as he had not seen anyone he knew since waking up in that strange bed in what he assumed was a hospital room and during his transfer to his suite. His only pleasure had been the constant presence of that pair of giant dogs that kept him warm at night, and seemed to be keeping watch over him every time someone visited. A few too nosy visitors had been snapped back out of the suite without much care for their pants, the moment he had shown displeasure at their actions or even mere presence. The dogs were walking beside him, one on each side of the strange chair, while an older boy was pushing it along endless hallways. That place was huge, so much bigger than any place he had ever visited! His dad's palace was big, even if there were many places he had never been allowed to visit, especially in the basement, but this was humongous! If only he could get better and begin exploring, there must be thousands of rooms, no millions of them. Then as the curiosity waned from seeing so many doors, the fear came back. Where was he? He knew no such building in the kingdom. Therefore he must be out of the Realm. But where was this place? He tried hard to keep a composed face, as fitted a member of the royal family, but tears leaked on his cheeks, and he sniffled uncontrollably. One of the dogs stood in front of the rolling chair, climbed on his legs with his forepaws, and licked his face clean, tickling him in the process, which brought a smile and a hug from the prince. The dog returned to his station, and the progress resumed to his destination. He should ask where he was going, but that would put him in a position of inferiority to his pusher, and the prince had been drilled ever since he could talk about the proper etiquette. Never put yourself in a situation of inferiority by asking the first question. Never!

Finally, the boy stopped, turned the wheelchair right, and knocked on a huge double door. A faint come in was heard through the thick wood. The dogs walked ahead, and stood on their hind legs, pressing on the beak of the handle to make the mechanism work, and pushed the door open. The dogs then pushed the doors fully open and the boy resumed driving the wheelchair into the thickly carpeted room. The dogs took their station beside the wheelchair and accompanied the progress toward the centre of the room.

The prince noticed the superb chandeliers that hung from the arched ceiling, lighting the room with thousands upon thousands of candles. Mirrors all around the hall gave the impression the room was infinite in size, and that the number of people in the room was more numerous than what actually sat or stood around. The middle of the room was occupied by a table covered with maps, models of different contraptions, and, on the left side was a long table with finger food and hot steamy drinks and cold icy ones. At the other end was a magnificent fireplace were eight-foot logs were burning brilliantly, dispensing a welcomed warmth, as chairs of varying forms were set in an arc around the hearth of the room. Low-lying tables were placed between groups of chairs and sofas, sometimes in the front. Books were spread all over them, along with glasses of different liquors. On the far end, right in front of the prince, there were huge bay windows that ran from floor to ceiling, occupied by flowering plants and an occasional settee. As he looked around more, the ceiling attracted his attention: rich paintings depicting hunting scenes, waterfalls, or forests were visible, encased in wooden casings that spoke of rich wood and gold linings. In the far corners were statues, some made of the purest marble, others of onyx, and others were of jade and crystals he had never seen. The richness of the entire room caught the prince by surprise. He had thought his parents' living quarters were beautiful, but this made him feel like he had been raised in an attic.

The boy had stopped pushing the strange chair, and gently invited him to take a seat at the table. It had steps to let him climb on the oversized chair; the prince wondered why that chair was so strange-looking, but as he sat down in the deeply cushioned seat, he realized he was at the same height as the others, rather then have the impression the table would snap his neck if he tried to look around. The wheelchair was removed, and the two dogs sat, quietly, beside the prince. That their head was almost at his level surprised the prince, but he was no longer alarmed by their size and considered them friends. As he waited for the events to unfold, he petted both dogs to calm his nerves.

The people in the room began sitting around the table, and the boy that had been pushing the chair sat in front of the prince, slightly to his left; this surprised the prince, who did not expect a valet to sit at the same table as he did; however, he kept his mouth shut, remembering that silence was his best asset. The prince noticed quite a few people around the table. Some looked strange, like that gold boy, and others downright scary, like that giant furry man at one end of the table. He looked further and spotted more dogs sitting at the table, while he saw a tiny child at the other end, that looked like a little girl. He began to notice that all those that could carry weapons did; one boy had put an elaborate axe one the table beside a fearsome hammer; another man had put down a hammer gently, but still the table had complained; the little girl had a strange stick beside her; and the boys, including the one that had pushed him around, had put swords of impressive sizes beside their seating, while another one had put a strangely sculptured walking stick, and another a mace that seemed to try and counterweight the hammer. A trident shone beside another man, and a quiver of arrows and a bow lay beside a strange boy. A very young boy, much younger then the prince had set what appeared to be a big battle stave beside him. He could see, leaning on the far wall, a huge shield with a skeleton head the likes of which he had never seen before. Everyone seemed to wear fine clothing, iridescent in the flickering light of the candles, but he could not help noticing that everyone wore armour of the most beautiful make he had ever seen, even the boy that had pushed his strange chair around. Maybe he should reconsider his view about the status of that boy, if he was as well clothed as everyone else and seemed to be treated with consideration, maybe he wasn't that low down the status ladder.

As he looked on the table's contents, the prince realised he was seeing a map of his kingdom, with every road and locality identified. It did not tell him where he was, but at least he had a view of home, his home. The last person expected at the meeting walked in. He was another strange-looking man, that seemed to be as hairy as the giant man with the mace, but had strange red eyes. The doors closed behind him silently, as dogs took guard station around the room.

For the first time, the tall man with the Hammer spoke.

"Is everything set, Greywolf?"

"Yes, we have secured the city's perimeter. The engineering units are hard at work adding more defence shields around the kingdom. We should be ready for the onslaught in twenty-nine days."

"Dunbar and Williams are completing their work in New Zealand. They should be back within a week, they say," added the boy that had pushed the prince's wheelchair.

"Ok. I think it's time we introduced ourselves to the prince and give him a chance to deal with what has happened in the past two months since we rescued him from that prison. Sitar, have you talked to our Canines to find out anything about the considerable trail of courtiers that seem to want to talk to the prince?"

"We did talk; those that got expelled from his quarters have been detained for interrogation. Quite a few were opportunists that thought they could manipulate the prince for their own gain. What would you like us to do with them, prince?"

The prince was taken by surprise to be asked that question. His soft voice answered, not knowing how important this little bit would be.

"I don't like people who try to intimidate me or consider me a push-over. If I had my way, they would end up peeling potatoes for the army. Dad seems to enjoy them, unfortunately. If only he listened to me when I tell him they are all veering to stab him in the back, even his brother."

"Then so be it! Sitar, see to it that those backstabbing individuals end up cleaning the sewers. I'm sorry prince, I will not trust our food reserve to these people."

"The court's decision is dully noted," said another boy, which the prince assumed was Sitar.

"Dad won't like that."

"Your dad is in no position to change your decision, prince. He got killed by his own brother," said the tall man. "You were detained in that castle as a hostage to keep the opposing party from revolting."

"What about the rest of my family?" a very pale child asked.

"None survived. We still have not figured out why he kept you alive so long; probably because the pressure was too strong from the opposition, and killing you would have removed the last stopper from an all-out revolt."

"What happened to my dad's brother?"

"We have him in detention, awaiting your decision as to what to do with him."

"Before I answer that, who are you? And where am I?" The prince had decided he had enough of playing royalty. He had questions and wanted answers.

"To the second question, as to where, you are in the Elvin kingdom. As to who we are, well, that is going to take some time to cover each present. I'll start with myself and go from one end of the table to the other and back along the side you are sitting on, prince. Would everyone stand as you are named so the prince can see you clearly?"

Harold took his time to introduce everyone by name and title, and explaining the people represented at the table. It took over an hour to cover all aspects of the assembly. By then, everyone had grown hungry and needed to walk around a bit.

The prince had not really understood all he had heard about wolf dukes, dogs with titles, dragon princes, and other strange titles. He did understand about the legions, and fairies, and even about elves and the dwarfs. However, a troll prince was over his head, both literally and figuratively! He talked to the boy that had pushed his strange chair, prince Paschal he had learned during the introduction.

"Why did you push it? You could have asked someone else, a valet to do it."

"There is a rule of thumb in this kingdom, prince: if you can do something yourself, do it. You better learn it fast. And it was fun... When you are feeling better, we'll race!"

"Race? Where?"

"I the hallways! Where else?"

"But isn't that forbidden?"

"Sure, but who cares?"

"It will get me in trouble with some members of the Privy Council."

"I doubt that. If you are talking about your kingdom's privy council, quite a few did not survive the palace coup that your uncle did; those that did just got executed for complicity with the usurper, as per your decision just before the break."

"Executed? I though we would be stuck judging each individually?"

"Their guilt had been long established, prince. We can read minds, and we had their criminal history in store; we only needed your consent to dispose of them. The moment you pronounced the sentence, it was carried out."

"Why didn't you read mine, then?"

"Because we do not have your consent, prince; you were a victim, not an accused here."

"What about all the decorum of proper justice?"

"We don't have time to play fancy; this kingdom is at war, prince; at war with orcs and crocodile priests."

"Where is the Kingdom of Atlantis? You say this is the Elvin kingdom, but you do not tell me where this Atlantis is."

"That is a bit difficult to explain, prince. It is here, but not here, it is a kingdom under the sea, on the earth, and in the stars. It is past, present and future."

"That isn't very clear?"

"Wait for dad to explain it. Pharaoh Harold Thor Horus of Atlantis is best suited to explain this to you."

"When will I go back home?"

"Never. The United Kingdoms of Americus has ceased to exist. I'm sorry, but those that had control over the Atom God detonated a doomsday device, and the explosion wiped out your capital, Washton. We managed to save everyone, but it was a close call."

"The kingdom was much bigger then Washton, what happened to it?"

"First, the detonation of the bomb effectively cut the kingdom in half, preventing any communication between the northern and southern parts due to the radiation. Second, orcs have flooded the kingdom; we managed to rescue everyone, again, and to move everything out that was worth saving, practicing a scorched earth policy to deprive the orcs of any shelter or food; there is not a piece of edible food or any stranding structure left, not even a bridge. Third, the northern section of the kingdom is being assailed by ice, and numerous valleys that once were habitable are now locked in thick glaciers. It is progressing rapidly along the coast. Fourth, the glaciers along the eastern mountain range of your kingdom has been pushing the fire cockroaches and fire ants ever closer to the coast, narrowing your kingdom to, in many cases, a road width. Many communities were becoming isolated, and were on the verge of being overrun by the pests. Fifth, the number of ungulates that could reproduce was dropping, effectively preventing your population from harvesting enough meat, wool or milk to satisfy their need; the coming winter would have been marked by a huge famine. Sixth, the crops suffered late frosts this spring, and winter set in earlier then last year, destroying crops, thus compounding the meat issue. Do I need to continue, prince? "

"The picture you paint is depressing, prince Paschal. What will we become?"

"You will become part of the Atlantean kingdom, first as refugees, as are the Fairies and the Dwarfs, and just about everyone here, so do not feel inferior or unwelcomed. No one is home here, except maybe the Elves, and that won't last, we all know this."

"The Elves will kick us out?"

"No, the Elves will come with us when we leave. That is what I mean. And they know it. So do all the vassals of the Atlantean kingdom, even the dwarf orcs, if they decide to do so."

"Where will you go?"

"That, prince, is a state secret. Be patient. You do have a decision to make, well two in fact."

"Decisions? What decisions?"

"First decision: do you want to be king of your people? Second decision: As king, do you want your kingdom to be a vassal of the Atlanteans?"

"I don't know how to be king yet!"

"Neither did Thorsten, Enron, or, for that matter, Dad! They all ended up with a crown due to how they behaved. We can teach you how to be a good king, prince, but let me tell you it is not an easy task. We govern by example, not by ruling, and that means we are in the forefront of the action, doing things, not hiding behind people to assess things and decide for us. Believe me, it is a much tougher position than that of ruler, prince! Even the Heir of Atlantis practices this. He was in the front line during our passage in your kingdom. He killed his fair share of traitors and disposed of the Minotaur. That is not a minor feat of arms!"

"But he is not five yet!"

"So? You will see things in the kingdom of Atlantis you thought impossible."

"Can I delay the decision about the kingdom?"

"Sure, prince. However, if I can give you counsel, do not delay too much; there are still worms in your kingdom, even if we have given it a serious dose of helminthic! Indecision is your worse enemy. Power, even illusory, can convert any person into a potential traitor, especially when there is a feeling that someone can get away with it. This is why your uncle did what he did: from what I understand, your dad was old, and showed signs of weakness, and your uncle took the opportunity when it was offered. Your dad should have resigned in favour of one of his children. Samson and Diamondcutter both resigned in favour of their sons when they felt they were outpaced by the events."

As the two princes returned to the Hall of Mirrors, as the young guest had named the big room, they were met by a grey wolf.

"Ah, Duke Greywolf! Is everyone back to the table?"

After a silence, Paschal continued to speak out loud for the benefit of their guest.

"Right. Sitar has disposed of the traitors? All of them got beheaded? Good! And the dragons carried the corpses in nets to the volcanoes of Mesoamerica already? They did things quickly! Oh! I know varmint must not be kept in the castle!"

The exchange left the prince at a loss. His face betrayed his confusion.

"Sorry, I was exchanging information telepathically with Duke Greywolf. Greywolf, shift shape and join us."

The prince would have fallen on the ground had he not been sitting in a wheelchair already! In front of his eyes, the grey dog changed to the furry person he had seen at the table that had been introduced as Duke Greywolf!

"Close your mouth, prince! You might catch fleas if there were some around!"

The prince use his hands to push the lower jaw close and keep it closed. He did not trust his masticator muscles to do their job.

"Is the gold boy really a dragon?" he asked with a quivering voice.

"Yes, as we all are. You will see many strange things, I told you earlier."

"How many wolves are around?"

"Quite a lot, prince, quite a lot. The two guards that keep you company day in day out are wolves of the Royal guards. The Royal dogs guards that you see around us are part of the near protection of the Heir of Atlantis."

"Part? How many are there?"

"Too many to count. And that does not include the wolves, the horses, and just about everyone that can walk. Ian is the heart of Atlantis, even more then his dad or his little brother Alexander, which you have not met yet. He is being fed by a she-wolf in the den."

As they took their seat at the table, Harold spoke out again.

"Prince, the time has come for you to decide what to do with your uncle. We will tell you what we discovered as we penetrated your kingdom, and what we found while searching his mind. You will not like the story. Ask counsel from anyone, but do not boggle down in too many legal considerations; you are the sole survivor of your family, and as such, you are the law of your land."

"But first," intervened Queen Annabelle, "would you mind telling us your name and age?"

"Will it affect anything?"

"If you mean will if affect your credibility, no it will not. Your decisions will stand; we will simply implement them. It is your choice if you wish to reign with full powers or if you prefer a regency until you feel more fit to sit on the throne of your kingdom on your own."

"Prince Paschal made it clear I no longer have a kingdom. On what throne would I sit?"

"A kingdom is more then land, prince. It is a state of mind, a sense of belonging. There were many kingdoms in history that had no land, from the nomads of Mongolia to the Romanichels. They were powerful kingdoms, weak kingdoms, but kingdoms nonetheless. They existed because their people had a strong feeling of identity, of belonging, that was not linked to land."

The prince sat still, eyes closed, thinking intensely. No one said a word. Finally, his frown relaxed and he looked at Harold.

"I feel too young to be a king. Who would teach me the art of governance? I was so far removed from the throne I had a lot of liberty, even if the Privy Council was a pain in the butt most of the time."

"I see. Who would you like to be your teacher? Anyone of us could do, since we all have a lot of experience with the duties of the crown."

"Could prince Paschal do it?"

"Sure. Be aware that prince Paschal has, as Great Grand Architect, a lot of duties; he will be rather busy, but I am sure he will find the time to get you involved in his work, and, in this way, teach you things about the duties of royalty you have no idea exist."

"Do I need to be a king to bind myself and my people to your Kingdom, Pharaoh Horus?"

"No. As last heir to that crown, your decision is binding."

The prince looked around and saw the expectant eyes of everyone. He made a decision, remembering the comments about the worms working against his crown even now. The prince stood up and declared, in the best formal tone he could muster:

"I, prince Jefferson of the House of Davis, hereby request that my house be accepted as vassal to the Throne of Atlantis, and hereby swear fealty to said Throne of Atlantis in the name of all my subjects!"

The silence that followed the declaration of prince Jefferson was deafening.

Harold stood and extended his hand to reach the sword that had been introduced under the name of Mitsuko. He then let it rest on the boy's shoulder.

"The Kingdom of Atlantis welcomes Prince Jefferson of the House of Davis under its fold. Repeat after me the oath of fealty."

The prince swore and the sword shone a brilliant white light, accepting his oath for its purity of heart.

"Mitsuko has accepted your oath, prince. Stand tall and be proud. You are now under our protection, not that it never was in doubt."

After a bit of cheering, things came back to serious matters.

"As to my age, Queen Annabelle, I turned eight at the summer solstice. In our kingdom, a king accesses the throne at age twenty-one. It seems it is different in this one?"

"Yes, very different. A prince becomes king when he is fit, not because of age or customs."

"I see. Then, the last item to cover is what to do with my uncle. Can we wait until after vespers to discuss this? I am feeling tired and I need a nap."

"Certainly. You can rest in your rooms or just take one of the side-rooms here. The two wolf guards that are assigned to your duty will accompany you to keep you warm."

"I would much prefer sleeping on one of these sofas near the fire, if you don't mind. I feel lonely."

"That is acceptable. We will keep quiet while you rest. There are many other things to discuss between us anyway. In a kingdom as complex as Atlantis, there are always some issues that need to be debated.

The prince was guided to a sofa, and a few minutes later, he fell asleep, as Harp created a soundproof shield.

"We can discuss anything; unless he reads lips, he will not hear a thing."