Bedtime Stories 7

Posted on Sat Jul 16, 2016 @ 1:15pm by Lieutenant Cassandra Kennings

1,958 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: The Fall
Location: Kansas, United States of America, Earth
Timeline: Years in the Future

OOC: Okay let's wrap this up...

IC:
"Perhaps we should rethink this plan," their ally said, as they scanned the horizon. Across a stretch of expanse littered with fallen soldiers was a line of men, all on the back of a steed, all with swords drawn, and in the front, the Sultan's armor shone in the sun stronger than any of his men.

Behind Cassandra clouds were building. A wall of them coming in from the horizon, a storm about to break. Cassandra jumped down off the steed she and Karadee shared, and walked slowly towards the men, her arms extended at her sides.

The Sultan dismounted as well, as did twenty of his men and began marching towards her. They finally stopped when they were far enough apart that they could hear each other, but not so close that Cassandra felt she couldn't rush back if she had to. The wind had picked up and was blowing sand off the bodies beneath their feet. Cassandra refused to cover her eyes, as did the Sultan, as they stared each other down.

"You betrayed me," he said. His voice carry no angry tone, but his displeasure was clear.

"I've done nothing of the sort," she said. "You wanted to avoid bloodshed, I've given you the chance. Your brother comes here in good faith, without an army, to negotiate for peace. He is not advancing upon your kingdom. It is you who lied to me."

"His attack upon us was inevitable," the Sultan said, shrugging as if it were of no consequence. "I merely gathered my army before he had a chance to mobilize his."

"And that's what the people of your kingdom will believe," Cassandra nodded. "That their leader bravely stood against the tide and succeeded, because of his brilliant foresight."

"It's true enough," the Sultan said. "But if you are truly bringing him to me like this, then you may yet serve me well."

"What is it you desire of me?" Cassandra said.

"Make me an army," the Sultan said. The wind picked up at his words, the dark mass of clouds finally beginning to overtake them.

"You already have one," Cassandra observed, watching the soldiers behind him hold their weapons a bit tighter.

The Sultan snorted. "They are merely men. I want you to create for me an invincible army. An army of the Gods. An army that will vanquish any foe, slaughter any opposition, and ensure my kingdom's peace."

"No," Cassandra said. The expression on the Sultan's face gave away his distaste for the word, and, she suspected, the rarity with which he heard it. She took a step backwards instinctively, putting a bit more distance between them in case he lunged for her.

"I think you will," he said, "if you value the lives of your companions."

Cassandra risked a glance back in time to hear Karadee squeal with fear. Two large guards had flanked her and now had knives pressed against the throats of both Karadee and the Sultan's brother.

"My army, for their lives," the Sultan said, simply.

It took quite a bit to ruffle Cassandra's feathers, and considerably more to anger her. At that moment, however, she was furious. Her hair whipped around her as the storm began to break. Large drops began to pelt the ground, and thunder rumbled overhead. Cassandra stared down the Sultan and said, "as you wish."

Thunder rumbled again as she raised her hands skyward and shouted, her words echoing across the expanse.

Most faithful brothers, long since dead,
Deep asleep in thy wormy bed,
Wiggle thine toes, open thine eyes!
Twist thine fingers towards the skies!
Life is sweet, be not thou shy!
On thy feet! So sayeth I!

Lightning shot down from the sky, forking and striking her hands, traveling down her body. She stomped her foot on the ground and it trembled beneath her, the lightening splitting and shooting through the dusty terrain.

A moment later the ground shook again, and everyone turned towards the tell-tale sound of clinking metal as the suits of armor on the ground began to move. At first they just shook in the wind, then one got up on a knee, and began to stand on its own.

The Sultan stared, transfixed, as did all of the onlookers. Corpse after corpse began to dig its way out of the ground and enter formation. Cassandra watched the Sultan and was inwardly pleased to see the color draining from his face as the bodies of the dead suddenly came back to life. Faster they rose and faster they marched, some appearing at the crest of the hill and marching down to join their brethren.

Finally the Sultan looked at Cassandra and grinned wickedly. "An army that cannot be killed because they are already dead. A very clever bit of black magic."

"My associates are to be released," Cassandra said. "Now."

The Sultan snapped his fingers and the two men holding Karadee and his brother backed off a step, but stayed close. "Now," he said, "tell me how to control them.

Cassandra glared at him, but snapped her fingers. A swirl of black and violet energy circled above her and coalesced into an obsidian crown. She caught it as it fell and held it up. "Whoever wears this will control the army of the dead."

"Guards!" the Sultan shouted, "seize it."

The guards advanced quickly, but someone else was quicker. Once free of the knife at her throat, Karadee had raced to Cassandra's side. As the guards advanced upon them, she grabbed the crown and placed it over her own head. It immediately shrank to accommodate the size of her skull, and as she set it down, the army of the dead came to attention, saluting.

"Stop them from hurting anyone," she shouted, pointing at the Sultan's guards. The army drew their weapons, and the Sultan's men froze, unsure of what to do.

"Kill them, you idiots!" the Sultan shouted.

Cassandra grabbed Karadee and pushed the girl behind her, backing quickly away from the approaching guards. She needn't have worried, however, as the Army of the Dead immediately took up defensive positions. The Sultan's guards slowed, not willing to rush headlong into a battle with an undead army.

The Sultan drew his own sword and stepped forward, his face twisting in anger as he thrust his sword forward, running the rear guard through. The young man’s agonized cry was blended with Cassandra’s, Karadee’s and the Sultan’s brother’s objections and warnings. As he dropped to the ground, the rest of the guards got the message and charged forward.

“No!” Karadee shouted, her fear gone and her anger surging forward. Her crown glowed with a dark light, and the dead soldiers charged forward. Their weapons crashed against the swords and spears of the Sultan’s men, and as the fighting began, the Sultan’s army realized that as skilled and ruthless as they could be, an army that had no need to defend itself against mortal wounds was able to attack in entirely unconventional ways. The men were quickly pushed back, having to defend themselves against a fury of blows from every angle, their own weapons rarely making a hit, and failing to inspire any fear when they did.

Had the Sultan not been looking around the battlefield for an advantage, he might not have noticed the movement next to him. The young soldier he had so coldly dispatched to make his point was getting slowly to his feet.

The Sultan noticed the movement and turned quickly, shocked that the boy had survived being run through by his sword. He step faltered, however, when he saw that the young soldier’s face was still just as ashen and bloodless as when he died not moments before. The Sultan watched the young soldier straighten up, stretch his neck, then brandish his sword in one smooth motion. If it hadn’t been for the obvious chest wound, the Sultan would have believed the boy had never been struck.

The Sultan backed away quickly, holding his sword out, despite the obvious futility of threatening a dead man. He backed up quickly as his former victim advanced and as their swords connected, it echoed the lightning and thunder overhead.

“What evil is this?” he shouted.

“Yours,” Cassandra said, her voice pitying.

The Sultan’s men fought hard, some were braver than others and pressed forward, but those were the unfortunate ones. After the first man fell, the others were more cautious, but soon more were succumbing to the weapons of the dead soldiers. And each time one of the Sultan’s men fell, he would stand up and turn his sword on his former brethren.

Finally the Sultan’s men got the hint and retreated. As soon as they began to move back off the field, the army of the dead stood down, their weapons drawn, but not raised. The farther back the living went, the further the dead stood down.

In the end it was the Sultan versus his opponent, and he was refusing to stand down. His skills were not inconsiderable, and had his opponent been mortal, he would have been victorious several times over. But with no way to end the battle via a kill, the Sultan was at a loss how to win, and when his hand was sliced, and his sword fell, he saw Death coming for him.

“Stop!” Karadee shouted. The Sultan froze in place, as did his would-be slayer, the zombie’s sword up and poised to strike. Karadee walked around from behind Cassandra and marched right up to the Sultan, looking up at him directly in the eye. “Surrender,” she said.

The Sultan swallowed, looking from his former concubine to his former soldier and realized his options were life in disgrace, or death. He was tempted to choose the latter, but his sense of self-preservation was too great. He looked at Karadee and nodded, taking off his helmet and putting it on the ground.

The dead soldier immediately sheathed his weapon and stood at attention, as did the rest of the dead. Karadee stepped back and turned as Cassandra and the Sultan’s brother approached.

“Congratulations,” the Sultan said, bitterly. “The kingdom is yours.” The Sultan grimaced as his brother held out a hand to help him up, but he accepted nonetheless, and held out his helmet.

“No,” Karadee said again, gentler this time and put a hand on the Sultan’s arm. “You should remain Sultan.”

Cassandra wasn’t sure which of the two brothers looked more surprised, but she was pretty sure she surpassed them both.

“You aren’t all bad,” Karadee said, looking at the Sultan, “but you need help being a good man. Your brother can do that. So by surrendering to him, you have to take him on as your adviser. He’ll make you a better man, and you can teach him how to be a good Sultan for the future.”

“And if he tries to murder me in my sleep?” the brother said.

Karadee turned to her army. “These men will live or die together. So long as there is peace between them, there will be no war from you.” The soldiers saluted and then stood still as the corpses they were.

Karadee turned back to the Sultan. “No more war, no more fighting, and they will never move. But if anyone dies, they will come for you.”

She let her threat hang in the air. The Sultan looked at his brother for a long moment, then held out his hand. “I would be….honored,” he said with some difficulty, “to have you by my side.”

 

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