Legends of Amacia The Caverias Rebellion -
Chapter 12: Rebellion within the Black Fortress
Meanwhile back in the Black Fortress, Nemesis fled deep into the catacombs to wait for Hanna, killing any guards or soldiers that dared to try to take him. To his surprise, he encountered more guards who were totally disgusted with serving the Emperor and wanted out than those who tried to take him. As he approached the entrance to the dungeons, the Captain of the Guards appeared with the same two guards that were with him in the throne room when Nemesis fought with the Emperor. “Nemesis,” the Captain called out quietly from an adjacent corridor.
Nemesis turned with a guttural growl, his long cybernetic claws still dripping with gore from the last set of guards that had impeded his progress. The Captain held up his hands and cried, “Whoa! Hold up! I don’t want to fight! None of us do.”
The other two guards held up their hands as Nemesis lumbered up, growling viciously, “If you’re not here to die, then what are you here for?”
“We’re fed up with the Emperor’s brutality. When you knocked him out in the throne room, I was silently cheering you on,” the Captain replied carefully.
Nemesis got in close and put his claws in the hollow of the Captain’s throat, hissing venomously, “Get to the point! I have to replace Nicodemus.”
The Captain raised his chin to get away from the claws and replied, “I don’t know where he is. The Cadre has him and their guards are separate from mine.”
“Then what good are you?” Nemesis growled.
Just then, another voice called out from behind them, “I know where Nicodemus is.”
Nemesis withdrew his claws from the Captain’s neck and wheeled around seeing Horace, the Cadre wizard he’d saved in the throne room. Nemesis instantly closed the distance between them like a cat pouncing on prey. “What are you doing here, Horace?” he asked sternly with his claws forward, ready to strike.
Horace looked into the bear’s face without fear, but great gratitude, saying, “Being a wizard has not cracked up to all that I believed it to be. The voices and torments are not worth it. I’m ready to bail out of this hell. I want no more to do with the Emperor or the Cadre. They have ruined my life!”
Nemesis lowered his claws as the Captain approached slowly saying, “They have ruined all our lives. I’m ready to dish it back to them in spades.”
“Since Beowulf showed up, the Emperor has been losing control of things,” Horace stated. “At this point he as lost nearly all control. You having eluded and supplanted him for so long has caused much of this lack of control.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Nemesis said. “So where is Nicodemus?”
“He’s locked in the Tower near where the cat is being held,” Horace said.
“Selina,” Nemesis whispered.
Horace nodded, saying, “Yes. Nicodemus is six levels below her guarded by ten Cadre guards. I do not know whether he is still alive. The last time I saw him was some six hour ago and he wasn’t in good shape. Ahriaman and the five others right below him took great liberties with him. If he is not gotten to and quick, it may be too late.”
Nemesis swore and asked, “Can you lead me to him?”
“Yes,” Horace replied.
Nemesis nodded, turning to the Captain, inquiring, “So what do you want of me?”
“The same as Horace: to leave this place,” the Captain replied. “But there is something very important that I must tell you. The flagship and fleet are nearly operational. We have to stop him from using them otherwise all will be lost.”
Nemesis swore again, asking, “What! The flagship is ready?”
The Captain nodded, reporting, “Almost. Within two, maybe three days, they will be operational.”
Nemesis lashed out at the wall of the passage with his claws, ripping rock from it. “The Captain is right,” Horace agreed. “In two days, the fleet will be ready. But the Emperor had planned not to launch them until after the Rising. If he launches those ships, he will be unstoppable.”
“Is there any idea when the Rising will happen?” Nemesis asked Horace.
Horace shook his head, saying, “Not really. Ahriaman has not been able to divine the time. The closest he has been able to get to knowing is maybe within a month or two. Something is keeping them from knowing...an outside influence that seems to be inhibiting their abilities.”
Nemesis sighed a bit, saying, “Well, we seem to have cut a break there. You say that he cannot launch the fleet until after the Rising?”
Horace nodded, replying, “That’s right. Even if he were able to launch them now, he’d never get them out of the caverns and he’d also likely lose them in the Rising. He’s not going to sacrifice his ultimate weapon for the likes of Beowulf or anyone else.”
“It’s hard to tell,” Nemesis stated flatly. “He is in an irrational rage. His plans are crumbling around him and he can’t stop it. It is now that he’s the most dangerous. I fear for Selina’s safety. Tell me, what are the security arrangements around her?”
Horace sighed, reporting, “The guard around her has been tripled. There are still four wizards, but now there are over a hundred guards, some of them Zarukar and Xenian. There are thirty guards on each level. The Emperor means to keep her.”
Nemesis growled, hissing, “He means to use her as bait! What about the Harem...how many guards are there?”
The Captain spoke up, declaring, “There are a hundred there as well. They even sealed the secret passage you used to access it. The only way in now is through the front doors.”
Nemesis knew what this meant. The fight to free the people was going to be a very bloody business. “Thank you...Captain, Horace. That intelligence is very good to know. Now listen to me, Captain. You say that you know people who want to leave?”
“Yes, I do,” the Captain replied with a nod.
“Are there any in the city who want to leave?” he asked the Captain.
“No,” the Captain answered. “The city has basically been emptied by the culling. Everyone that was even suspected of being disloyal has been imprisoned in the dungeons or summarily executed, some by the taroks and gerats.”
Nemesis sighed, saying, “All right then. You have the power. Spread the word to those you are sure want to leave among your people to be ready to go at any time. When Beowulf comes, we will need your help.”
The Captain shuddered slightly, knowing treasonous nature of his actions. But he also knew that if they didn’t do something, they were all dead men. “We will be ready. Is there any place that you want us to meet?” he asked.
“Be near the Arena,” Nemesis ordered. “You will know when she comes. When they do show up, do not resist them, and do not appear hostile to them. Tell those under you that want out of here that is how to approach them.”
The Captain nodded, saying, “Let’s go fellas. We have much work to do.” The Captain took off followed by the two guards with him.
Nemesis turned to Horace, saying, “All right Horace, lead the way to Nicodemus.” At that, they turned and rushed away from the dungeons heading toward the Tower.
Nearly forty minutes later, they approached Nicodemus’ cell and Horace had Nemesis stay back in the shadows while he went forward. The guards immediately challenged him until he identified himself, at which time they let him in the cell. Unconscious and barely alive, Nicodemus hung from the wall by his chains nearly three feet off the floor wearing nothing but a soiled loincloth. The Cadre, under Ahriaman’s direction beat Nicodemus savagely, mauled him severely, and burned him mercilessly until he blistered as they tortured him in all kinds of hideous inhuman ways before bringing him to the Tower. Horace saw Nicodemus’ ruined form and grimaced. Blood and puss dripped from the old prophet as he hung there, his breath shallow and raspy. The chains imprisoning Nicodemus resembled those in Selina’s cell, literally coming out of the wall.
Horace pointed to the chains and they relaxed. He caught Nicodemus and sat him down next to the wall. “Don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead,” he whispered. Nicodemus moaned slightly as Horace removed a flask of water from his cloak and poured a little into Nicodemus’ mouth. The water revived him slightly. He coughed and gagged, spitting it out along with some blood. His eyes opened as he saw Horace giving him a drink.
“Who are you?” Nicodemus whispered in excruciating pain, tears and blood flowing from his eyes.
“Don’t you mind who I am. Just know that Beowulf is coming,” Horace murmured. He gave Nicodemus some more of the life-giving fluid and he managed to keep it down.
“My time is up; my race run. I have kept the faith,” Nicodemus whispered almost inaudibly. “Let me go on to be with the Ancient of Days.”
“Nonsense,” Horace replied in a scold. “You will not die here. She is coming for you. You just hold on. Freedom is close.”
Nicodemus managed to touch Horace’s arm with great difficulty, saying softly, “Yes, my freedom is near. Understand; I do not fear death. I am a prophet of the Ancient of Days. This is my lot. My life is poured out like the water you give me.”
“Shut up, old man,” Horace scolded again. “Can’t you see that I’m trying to help you? You are not going to die. Not here.”
Nicodemus managed to crack just a small smile as he said, “You’ve turned, haven’t you? You believe in her, don’t you?”
Nicodemus’ words hit Horace to the quick, causing him to pause briefly. “What are you talking about?” he hissed.
“Don’t play coy with me, wizard,” Nicodemus replied with great pain. “You come here, get me off the wall, give me water, tell me not to die, and say that Beowulf is coming? You are done with the Emperor and the Cadre. Your heart cries out for something better and you see it in Beowulf.”
Horace knew that he’d been nailed down by Nicodemus’ statement. “Yes,” the wizard replied. “I risked everything coming here. Can you just stay alive for a few more hours, please? Surely, your God can do that for you.”
Nicodemus sighed as tears of pain ran from his eyes. “Only if He deems that I should. I am His servant and will go home to Him whenever He deems it’s time. If He wants me to see another day, or even to see my dear friends again, I will live, otherwise, I will die. But do not fear for me. Death is only the beginning.” Nicodemus then passed out.
Nicodemus’ faith astounded Horace. “May your God have mercy on you for the Emperor won’t. Hang on, old man. Just hang on,” Horace murmured. He checked Nicodemus’ pulse to see if he was alive and he was. It was slow, but it was steady. With a satisfied look, he put the flask of water back in his cloak and left the cell, leaving him leaning against the wall. The guards didn’t ask any questions or look in the cell as he came out. A few moments later, he reunited with Nemesis, saying, “He lives, for now. But he will not live much longer. If your friend intends to free him, she’d better hurry for he’s scheduled to be taken to the throne room in ten hours to face the justice of the Emperor.”
Nemesis nodded, saying as they stole away, heading to the catacombs, “Believe me. Beowulf’s coming is closer than you know. Come with me.” They dove into the lowest reaches of the catacombs to the place where Hanna told Nemesis to wait.
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