PALE REIGN OVER GESHEM - CHAPTER 23 by Abyss DISCLAIMER: All characters and ideas that are the property of Marvel Comics are used without permission, for no profit. This work may not be resold. It may be redistributed in its original form. And on a less formal note, comments, criticisms... even just a short E-mail saying `I liked it.' are much appreciated. Keep the faith. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Prince-Consort Douglas had once been a simple peasant, until one dark night when he saved the life of the Queen Rain... well, her doppelganger from another world, at the least. Since then, he had trained and fought with the Knights of the Land, lost an arm in battle with a sorcerer's minions and replaced it with a steel construct from those same villains. He had seen and done much, and in this last campaign, he had added far too much blood and battle to the list. He wanted nothing more than to return home to his pregnant queen and his studies and peace... so he was understandably furious to find out the Pale Man had endangered all of that in his absence. They stood now, the leaders of his force, trusted knights and lieutenants and High Lords... and some small part of him marvelled at how a simple peasant now commanded such a company. Douglas pushed the sentiment away. His Queen, his heart, his life, was threatened. "You have heard the warrior-girl's story. There is no time to debate. We ride to the castlerealm... now." His tone was passionate. At some point, he had discovered he had a natural talent for speaking to others. It served him well in rallying troops and diplomacy. Now it carried the desperation he felt along with the fury. There were no questions. "Samuel, Robert." The two stepped forward. The one, concern for his love, the serving girl Tabitha, etched on his face, his body language showing his need to be by her. The other, a dark-skinned young man who had won the right to wear his native land's Sun Armor in service to the Queen of Geshem. "You have command of the infantry and wagons. Follow as quickly as you can, and ware ambush." Samuel seemed relieved not to leave Tabitha. Robert was clearly not pleased. Douglas spared a precious moment to sooth him. "When you arrive, be wary, I intend to send the bandit force fleeing into your open arms." That seemed to satisfy the headstrong Robert. "Richard, Alexander." The other two commanders stepped forward. "My thunder-hammer stands ready to serve, Lord-Consort." "As does the Chaos-Blade." Again, Douglas studied the two men, Knights for longer than he was Prince, warriors without peer in the realm. Richard's mallet was a force to be reckoned with, churning the ground beneath the largest foes, and Alexander's Chaos- Blade... for an instant, Douglas considered ordering Alexander to remain and Robert to come instead, but he could not. They had learned of the High Lord Summerisle's death... and of the magical doppelgangers summoned by the Mage. Alexander was Lord of Summerisle now... he had to claim his land, and avenge his brother... but the need for vengeance might well usurp the fragile control the man had over his weapon... *Enough, let the swords strike as they will.* "You far outvalue the weapons you wield, but I shall need you, men and arms both. We ride with the cavalry now. We rest when the Wolf Banner flies over the castle again. For Rain, for Geshem... WE RIDE!" * * * The visions were stronger than ever... the Dryad had planted a seed in his mind, and now it bloomed, and the rush of images threatened to drive Prelate Summers to madness. -creatures, mad, misshapen things, rushing down on a helpless city... - a flood of blood, unleashing madness and power and death and the creatures ravaged unstopped... - Sinister, so like the man, yet different, stretching a monstrous hand across a diamond that glowed like the sun... across the Land, the cities, the forest... the Forest... - a wasteland, dust and pain and death... *This is what she saw... this is why she saved me... to stop this from happening... to stop Sinister from destroying the Land... by stopping the...* "...preyers." He came out of the visions to find himself lying on the ground. His head rested on something soft. The Hunter... Stephanie... looked down at him. Her face was very close to his. Behind her, he could see the others... Cyclops, the Gambler supporting Katherine... his eyes drifted back to Stephanie. He tried to raise his head and the sudden dizziness threatened to put him out again. He slumped back and realized he was resting in the Hunter's lap. "What did he say? Is he alright?" This from Cyclops. Stephanie's brown eyes studied him intently. Her voice was soft, but concerned. "Can you hear me? Do you know where you are?" His throat hurt. Dimly he remembered someone screaming, and realized it had been himself. "I... understand..." "What do you understand?" "The visions... the dryad... she meant for me to... stop... them..." Her eyes, so very intent, now narrowed. "The preyers... are they who you mean?" "Yes." He struggled to rise again. This time she helped him, keeping an arm around his waist to keep him upright. He clutched at her arm. "The preyers... what are they?" The Hunter's mouth tightened to a thin line. The others were listening intently. The Prelate's head swam with images of twisted flesh and teeth and claws. The images became clearer as she spoke. "They are the product of the Pale Man's blasphemous manipulation of life itself. The powers he plays with find their roots in lifeforce... he doesn't merely tap into them... he twists people into creatures that know only how to kill and feed and serve him. The Mage had a theory that the bandits who are soulsworn to the Pale Man eventually become preyers, but the Pale Man hides himself well. He and the Mage have clashed many a time, but his secrets remain his own." Cyclops crouched down, one hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully. His voice was intense when he spoke. For the first time, the Prelate wondered what his... what their eyes looked like when they were this focused. Not for the first time, he cursed the visor that controlled his optic blasts. "So if I understand this, our goals are three; one, stop these preyers from attacking the city and the refugees. Two, free the Queen and the Mage and any others. Three, put the Pale Man out of business." *Succinct, clear, focused. Like we didn't almost kill each other moments ago. How does he do it?* "S'quite de load fer de four of us, no?" the Gambler asked. The Prelate had been thinking the same thing. "Five of us." Katherine spoke up. The Gambler was quick to reply. "Not a chance, little one. You still down from de mess red over there made o' you. Sides, someone need to keep her out o' de picture." "There's more that we need you to do, Katherine." Prelate Summers looked at Stephanie. There was a sudden passion in her voice. "Gambler." "Yes, milady Hunter?" "How many thieves have you got in the city?" The Gambler looked about the room. His face cracked into a wide grin. "My dear lady. You're asking fer trade secrets..." The Hunter reached out and grabbed the Gambler's cape by the front. His grin never faltered as she pulled him close. *She's really quite good at that.* thought the Prelate. "Listen to me, thief. How long do you think your gang of rats will last if the Pale Man wins?" "Longer den you think, milady, but still, I'm listening." * * * END CHAPTER 23