GODSWAR: The Spear of Athena, Chapter 5

And of course where there are heroes there are usually villains...

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Chapter 5.

Raiagamor smiled in quiet amusement, watching Kerlamion, the so-called King of All Hells, directing the actions of his wide-flung plan. Kerlamion did not realize that the entirety of his actions, of the plan itself, were mere distractions, parts of a shadow-play by the true King, Raiagamor's King, to allow him to reach a goal that even Raiagamor could only guess.

No comments, my little tenant? he mused. No thoughts on seeing the world being directed to chaos, from your little country to the very farthest reaches of the world?

There was no answer. While he could still sense that "tenant" – the final remnant of the true Ares – where he had left it, sealed away within the vastness of his hungry soul – Ares had not spoken to him for a long time indeed. He had railed and pleaded and cursed for the first few months, and then, as he came to grasp his helplessness, spoken less and less. The last time had been … fourteen, fifteen years ago, a feeble protest at the planned murder of a generation of children.

It did not, of course, matter. The tiny core of Ares' essence existed as a salute and a demonstration to the King; what Raiagamor had done, in consuming Ares' power and yet, ultimately, leaving his essential self still alive and aware within Raiaga, was something only the King and the Elders could do. By succeeding in this, he had proven himself the equal of those uncountable years older than he – something that had pleased the King.

At this point, it was also something like saving a fine bottle of spirits for a special event; Ares was aging in helplessness, fury, and despair with every passing year, and would be a fine celebratory treat at the end. When the time came for even the symbols of the gods to be destroyed, Raiagamor would force Ares to watch… and then, as the remnant god fully understood the totality of Raiaga's victory, he would be consumed.

But Raiagamor needed no commentary from the defeated god to appreciate his unique vantage point on this conversation. Unlike the others participating in this conference – two of the Mazolishta, Erherveria, Balgoltha, and more – Raiagamor understood how to use the Scroll given him by his King to listen, to observe. That knowledge was a little gift given him by the King, a small thanks for the inspiration Raiagamor's own design had given the King in his current project… and one of inestimable value.

It allowed him to watch the unfolding of the scheme of a being who, Raiagamor admitted, was vastly superior to him in every way, and none more so than the ability to manipulate others, to direct their actions down the distance of centuries to culminate in precisely the conditions the King required. It was a breathtaking and, Raiagamor had to admit, an intimidating, perhaps even frightening, thing to watch from the outside, especially since Raiagamor had unwillingly come to the conclusion that it implied that his own actions might well be serving the King in ways he did not even guess.

It was not comfortable to realize that your grandest strategy might be only a single move in someone else's great game.

But it was entertaining. Especially since, for one outside the circle of plotters and manipulators, it was much easier to listen, to hear the hints of quiet deception, to sense that already, perhaps, the Grand Design of Kerlamion had begun to go ever-so-slightly awry. And with the Army of the Dragon now closing in, Kerlamion would have more immediate concerns demanding his attention, distracting him from the more distant problems.

Yes, the King's true plan must be already active, perhaps had been for centuries, but now was guiding the events in ways even the greatest of the Demons had not grasped. How long, I wonder, until the King no longer needs Kerlamion? He admitted he would give a great deal to see that conversation… and who knew? Perhaps he would.

At last, the conference was over, and one by one, the others faded from the view of the Scroll. As he reached out to clear his own, the King's eyes turned towards him. "Raiagamor," the calm, pleasant voice said, "bide a moment."

He immediately touched the Scroll in the manner that made it two-way. "Yes, my King?"

"I sensed your observation. Have you any thoughts?"

Raiagamor allowed himself a smile. "It is my thought that it will not be very long before you may have words with the King of All Hells that he will not wish to hear."

"Ha! Indeed, if all proceeds as planned, yes, that shall come to pass in not all that many months." A cheerful smile, so human, yet not. "And have you deduced my own goal?"

"The entirety of it? No, Majesty." Honesty was by far the best policy here. There was no telling exactly what the King wanted, why he had initiated this conversation, and the last thing Raiagamor could afford was to be trapped by his own desire to impress his perhaps-one-day Father. "It is evident to me now, from some of the other conversations I have heard, that the last Justiciar of Myrionar is the focus of your work, and that you have eliminated most of the other followers. You concentrate the power of her god, and weaken it at the same time. But the exact end… No."

"Excellent. If you have not yet seen it, I remain confident that no other shall before it is far too late to stop."

"Was that all, Majesty?" He did not think it had been nearly long enough for the King to need or want a further update, and little had changed; his plans progressed, but nothing remarkable had happened worthy of reporting.

"Yes. Thank you for your …" The King paused, as though a thought had struck him. It was just theatrical enough that Raiagamor knew it was purely an act – and that the King wanted him to know it.

This is going to be bad.

"Now that I think of it, there is one more thing, Raiaga," he said, in that smooth, deceptively comforting voice.

"How may I serve you, Majesty?" Best to be as careful as possible.

"Oh, no, it is not how you may serve me. It is that I have some news you may find useful."

It was here that the King's essential nature showed itself, even in pleasant-seeming conversation; he paused, the veriest hint of a smile on the human face, eyes glinting with amusement at the tension he was eliciting, and anticipation in whatever unpleasant news he planned to deliver.

But there is nothing for it but that I play along. "Yes, Majesty?"

"Well, you are of course aware that my agent in Zarathanton successfully escaped detection – quite impressive, really, given that he had assassinated the Sauran King in his own palace."

"Indeed, impressive. One of the Elders?"

"Oh, no, no. Not a child, certainly – a descendant of Virigan, in fact, named Alekivir, a mere twenty thousand years old or so." The last part was said without irony; even Raiagamor was more than twenty times older than Alekivir, and he was scarcely newborn compared to the incalculable age of the King and Queen, or even the Elders who had been born of the early days of their reign – and survived the first Great Battle. "Promising, though, with this success."

Another theatrical pause, which Raiagamor had expected; despite this, he found himself restraining his rising temper. "Where was I? Ah. Now, Alekivir has remained in the capital to keep an eye on things, so to speak. I have other spies in the Army of the Dragon King. In any event, one thing he does do is watch for interesting arrivals, especially those who seek the counsel of the King."

"But the Sauran King is not there," Raiaga said slowly. "Who is Regent?"

"Calladan, the head of the Academy," the King answered with a smile.

"Hm. A good choice on their part. Not a Sauran, but a well-known name, highly respected, capable." In a way, that was also good for the King's plans. He clearly had no intention of being bothered by unscheduled disruptions, and having a strong and intelligent substitute for the Sauran King would minimize the chance of someone using the current chaos to strike against the great City.

And, Raiagamor thought, it means the most powerful and experienced defender of the Academy… is not there. Useful for anyone seeking to fell that institution as well.

"Yes, quite. But that is of course only a side issue. The important thing is that a set of new petitioners appeared a short time ago – one that I think you would have found most intriguing."

Raiagamor raised his eyebrow. "Please, go on, Majesty."

"The most obvious point is that several of them were Camp-Bels."

So Deimos' attempt failed, at least in part. "Unsurprising, though somewhat disappointing. Still, they are outside the Shield, and no longer of much concern."

"Indeed, I did not expect that to be of overmuch interest to you. However, there were four in particular of these newcomers that might be of far more interest. Two of them were women… and not Camp-Bel."

"Not Camp-Bel?" That was odd. There had been, as far as he, Deimos, and Phobos had been able to ascertain, no other disappearances at the time of the Camp-Bels' departure. "Outsiders, then?"

"Outsiders indeed, but a most intriguing pair of outsiders. You see, their names are Victoria and Urelle Vantage."

That caused him to freeze. This cannot be coincidence. "Vantage. Related to…?"

"Victoria is her aunt. Urelle, her younger sister." The King's smile had a glint of deadly crystal in it.

"Interesting." More than interesting; anything connected to that family would have some tie to the King's own plans… which made it much more dangerous for anyone, even Raiagamor, to involve themselves. "But how would they have met the Camp-Bels? You phrase it as though they were traveling together, yet the Camp-Bels would have traveled from the southern shore to the north, while we know the Vantages had taken up residence near Zarathanton itself."

"Well, yes, they had," agreed the King. "But it was only a work of a few hours to ascertain that they had departed that residence perhaps within days of Kyri Vantage's own departure – and headed south." He smiled again. "But not alone. Two others travelled, and still travel, with them. The first is a diminutive youth indeed, with lavender hair, wielding a most distinctive weapon that rendered his identification easy: Ingram Camp-Bel."

There was a connection, and a peculiar one. He remembered Ingram vaguely, as the adopted child of the Clan who could never quite keep up with his adoptive family. A pathetic story.

But not so pathetic, not if he was now a companion of the Vantage women. "You said four."

"So I did." Now the smile was crystal-bladed within the human mouth. "The fourth is very interesting. An Iriistiik."

The pattern struck him like a blow, and he froze in order to prevent an all-too-revealing explosion. Only when he was certain that he was under control did he speak. "This is the group that was being tracked. The one Deimos encountered, that was protected by Berenike."

"It would certainly seem likely, yes."

"Then the woman of the prophecy may not be Berenike at all," he murmured, the connections becoming grimly clear. "Or… no, wait."

And then he could not restrain a snarl. "Those light-damned cards! It described a person… but did not ever say the description applied to only one person! Berenike is one threat – and the other is a Vantage."

The King grinned savagely. "A most interesting development, if so. And I would agree that it is the most direct and obvious conclusion, fitting all of the data we have to perfection… and, as you note, the bent of the Cards to tell the truth while misleading."

"Does this mean that their actions connect to yours, Majesty?" The very last thing he wanted was to be directly involved in the King's master-plan; in such a case, anyone – anyone at all – might be a disposable pawn. Perhaps – perhaps – the Queen his Mother might not be, but the King would hardly spare a thought before sacrificing Raiagamor under those conditions.

"Connect… perhaps. Everything connects in the end, Raiaga. Everything. That is the truth behind all Creation, really. But in the way you mean?"

The King paused then, and for a long moment Raiagamor saw the King truly thinking. His eyes flared a blank green and he sat, unmoving, for many seconds before the alien color faded and he looked, once more, human.

The human smile, too, returned. "No. Not in the way you feared, Raiaga. The connection is perhaps not coincidence, but it is not of my design, nor in any way likely to impact it, so long as neither you nor they approach Evanwyl or the hidden land Kaizatenzei – something I think is most unlikely indeed, given that your interests are already fixed most firmly in Aegeia."

"Have you any other intelligence regarding those four?"

"There was one more little tidbit of interest, yes," the King said, raising his hand in preparation for ending the communication. "Their current destination is Salandar."

The scroll returned to silvery blankness before Raiagamor had quite absorbed the meaning of those words.

When the meaning did penetrate, he was caught between a gasp of disbelief and a roar of inarticulate fury. Which was fortunate, because the balance between the two gave him a brief moment to regain control of his emotions, clamping down the steely bands of his will upon the raging fire that always burned within his heart.

His eyes went, unwillingly, to the map he had left floating in air a short distance away. Salandar winked from near its center, and just to the south…

The Freehold.