The Record of the Saints Caliber (9 page)

The Golden Cockerel was flanked on either side by four lieutenants in silver armor flying the banners of the kingdom. They wore similarly crested helms and white capes but had none of the jewels. Behind them came Saint Ramiel and the Oracle, blights of blackness against the sea of gold and chrome.

As the army gathered around the foot of the mountain some few-hundred yards off, the Exalted with his gem-laden cape broke off, escorted by his four lieutenants in shining armor and flanked by Saint Ramiel and the Oracle. The Exalted’s lieutenants all had the heavy steel rifles known as bolt-throwers slung around their chests and they kept their right hands wrapped around the handles as they rode.

The squad trotted up the path. The Exalted rode high upon his golden horse with his chin seemingly resting upon a cloud, a look of smug arrogance upon his golden, shimmering face. He seemed larger than was natural, as did his horse. It was a difference in size and scope that was at once subtle but profound. Whether this was a trick of his gaudy armor and crested helm was hard to tell.

His lieutenants all appeared quite anxious beneath their armor, though they did a good job trying to disguise it by sitting high in their saddles and keeping their giant guns at the ready. Saint Ramiel, on the other hand, looked stern and hard, his dark eyes angry slits as he studied Celacia. The Oracle too was studying her, though it only looked upon the world through a polished silver mask that shined brilliantly in the sun.

The Exalted and his lieutenants stopped their horses just short of the plateau while Ramiel and the Oracle brought their horses up behind them. All the horses were quite uneasy, nervously stepping and shaking their heads. The Exalted seemed to take notice of the withered earth beneath Celacia’s feet and
humphed
. He kicked his horse hard and forced it forward.

“I am the Exalted Golden Cockerel, Lord of Dawn’s Sun, who is at once glorious and profound to you,” he proclaimed quite plainly from atop his steed. The sun sparkled and reflected from the hundreds of gemstones embedded within his golden armor and he glittered obnoxiously before Celacia. The horse stepped nervously from right to left, causing Golden Cockerel to scowl. He yanked hard on the jewel-encrusted reins and continued.

“I am accompanied by King Armigon’s Southern Forces and my personal Saint, Saint Ramiel of the Hammer, who is the most powerful Saint in all Dimethica, and most likely, all the kingdoms.” Even as he spoke so coolly and smugly the horse backed a few paces, shaking its head stubbornly. At this point Golden Cockerel was getting visibly upset with his horse and he kicked it hard, trying to get it to confront Celacia.

Celacia stared at him coolly. She took a step back and that seemed to help put the beast at ease.

Golden Cockerel the Exalted looked at her suspiciously from beneath his crested helmet and glittering face, then lifted his chin high. “Bow to me. Then state your name, as plainly as is fitting for a mere Saint, and tell me where you are from and what business you have here in my glorious kingdom with these petty soldiers of yours. Then I, the glorious and Exalted Golden Cockerel, Lord of Dawn’s Sun, shall decide your fate. And perhaps, if I so fancy, I shall take you upon my servitude.”

Celacia screwed her lips up and took a step forward, causing Golden Cockerel’s horse to kick up slightly and back away nervously, putting him back in the awkward position of trying to look authoritative and smug atop his anxious steed. Then she said, “Oh, I’m just picking up a little something for myself. It was just taking up space in your volcano, and I didn’t think you’d mind if we helped ourselves to it.”

Golden Cockerel dug his armored heels into his horse’s sides and jerked at the reins as he scowled down at Celacia. “From what kingdom are you and your poorly outfitted soldiers?”

“Nowhere in particular,” said Celacia.

Golden Cockerel seemed to take great offense to her answer and tone of voice. He
humphed
and composed himself, resting his nose back upon some unseen cloud. “Certainly, you are from a kingdom far less glorious than Dimethica. By your ragtag lot, I assume Jerusa. Certainly you have no claim to anything within the glorious and exalted lands of King Armigon.” He clapped twice quickly. “I command you to put all your soldiers to the sword at once. Then you shall come before me for your own punishment.”

Celacia’s brow furled. “Are you for real?” She looked past him, to Saint Ramiel. “Is he for real?”

Ramiel just stared coldly at her and spit on the ground.

Golden Cockerel looked down at Celacia from his horse, his golden face glittering in the sun. “I take pity on you that such profundity as myself is lost within your realm of reality. Be that as it may, I command you to put your soldiers to the sword.”

“No.” chirped Celacia.

Golden Cockerel the Exalted had obviously never heard such a brazen insult as the word ‘no’ in his life. His head popped up and his mouth hung agape.

Celacia turned to leave.

“How dare you turn your back to the Lord of Dawn’s Sun!”
he screamed, almost shrieking. “Did I not tell you that I am the glorious and Exalted Golden Cockerel?” He craned his neck around to his four lieutenants and pointed to three of them in quick succession and then clapped his hands twice. “You three. Seize her at once!”

Immediately the three armored horsemen at his side dismounted and rushed forward, hiking up their giant bolt-throwers. Celacia stopped but did not turn around. The first of the lieutenants dashed ahead and grabbed her, but no sooner had his gauntleted hand landed on her shoulder than rust overtook the armor, instantly climbing its way up his arm, over and around his shoulders, and spreading instantly across his chest, back and down his legs. He started to scream but it was choked off. He fell to his knees, his armor clanking on the hard earth, crumbling off in rusted clumps as he fell backward in a limp heap. His desiccated and frightful face stared up at the heavens through dead, white eyes.

The other two lieutenants came to an abrupt halt and gasped.

Celacia turned around and smiled at them, her emerald eyes gleaming in the sun. “Hi boys,” she said with a wink.

They raised their bolt-throwers to her, taking aim. One of them began to shout “Halt!” but something unseen flared around Celacia. The earth beneath Celacia’s feet cracked and withered; the armor upon the fallen soldier at her heels tinkled as it crumbled to rusty powder, leaving nothing but a ghastly skeleton that was also quickly dissolving. The remaining lieutenants dropped their guns as Celacia’s aura washed over them. Their backs arched and they wailed horrific death screams. They fell to the earth as their hands and arms curled with a macabre rigor until they all lay in a cadaverous heap with pallid, withered faces and sunken eyes staring out at nothing.

The horses of the three fallen lieutenants reared up and screamed, tearing off down the slope as Golden Cockerel, Ramiel and the Oracle struggled to keep their own horses under control.

“This is an outrage!” wailed Golden Cockerel, backing his horse up behind his last lieutenant, Ramiel and the Oracle. He looked at his remaining lieutenant and said, “Dispose of her at once!” He clapped his hands twice and then put his nose to the sky. “Quickly. I demand she be dispatched.”

The lieutenant fumbled to lift his bolt-thrower as he struggled with his horse, but Celacia stepped forward wagging a finger. “Ah-ah-ah,” she warned.

Ramiel spit then grunted and whipped his anxious horse around. His topaz eyes burned angrily. He scowled as he drove his horse forward, overtaking the lieutenant who was becoming more worthless with every cowing Celacia dished out.

Most Saints were young and fair of complexion, appearing to be in their early or late twenties. Ramiel looked rougher and older, partly due to his scruffy facial hair and partly due to the large, pink scar that ran diagonally from his left eye, across his nose, and off the bottom of his square jaw. His eyes and hair were like crystalline topaz, ruddy and brown, though his left eye was more white and looked damaged from whatever had left the nasty scar. He gazed upon Celacia with cold appraisal before his eyes chanced a glance at the strange stellaglyph emblazoned upon the buckles that held her cape to the top of her breastplate. For the briefest of moments Ramiel’s face betrayed a hint of puzzlement.

“Name yourself, Saint.” ordered Ramiel, his star-metal gauntlets gripping the reins of his horse tightly as the beast nervously shuffled about. The Oracle’s pale horse was equally uncooperative and whinnied nervously as it bobbed its head up and down, looking at Celacia with wide eyes.

Celacia turned her emerald eyes to the Oracle and chirped out, “You know, it’s quite insulting that none of your Saints know who I am. Or have I been sleeping so long you forgot about me too?”

Ramiel cast Celacia a stone-cold glare. “Name yourself,” he ordered.

“And that’s the other thing,” she chirped. “You Saints Caliber types are way too serious.” She looked at the shrouded figure upon the pale horse that gazed upon her with its ovular, silver mask. “So, you’re an Oracle, huh?”

“Celacia, it’s been a very long time,” spoke the Oracle quite calmly, its voice strange and metallic from behind the mask. “Tell me, who are the Saints here with you today? I can sense their presence but cannot quite make out who they are.”

“Did nobody hear me say I want her dispatched?” shrieked Golden Cockerel from atop his steed. He pointed his nose up and said, “Ramiel, you shall dispatch her immediately.” He clapped his hands twice.

Celacia looked at Ramiel and rolled her eyes. Then she looked back at Golden Cockerel. “Or what?”

Golden Cockerel’s face was overcome by shock. His mouth fell open. “Wh…what? What…what is the meaning of this? How…how dare you!”

Ramiel scowled and spit on the ground. He looked Celacia square in the face. “Who are the Saints with you?”

“Ramiel!” squealed Golden Cockerel. His face was red even beneath the glittering gold dust. “Dispatch her now! Do you not hear me speaking to you?! I shall have you flogged!”

Celacia held up a hand to Ramiel and looked at Golden Cockerel. “Adults are talking here. It’s not polite to keep interrupting.” She looked back at Ramiel. “Now, what were you asking?”

The Exalted Golden Cockerel began huffing and puffing so much that it seemed he might start hyperventilating. The Oracle coolly said to him, “We shall dispatch her for you very soon, most Exalted and glorious Golden Cockerel. I beg your most exalted patience while we question this one. She is of great interest to Sanctuary.”

Ramiel spit on the ground, his topaz eyes narrowed into slits. “Tell me the names of the Saints with you.”

“I’d love to tell you,” said Celacia. “But then I’d have to kill you.”

Ramiel’s lip furled. “I’ve never heard of you, Celacia. When you turned, I noticed you have no stellaglyph upon the back of your neck. Sold your soul to Apollyon for a taste of freedom? Fallen Saints are my favorite prey.” He grunted and spat at Celacia’s foot.

All eyes turned down to where the offending glob landed atop her obsidian boot. The white mass began to dry up and dissolve immediately.

Celacia looked up at Ramiel, her face scrunched up in disgust. “Eeew. Is that how you Saints treat a lady these days?”

The horses now began to rear up and whinny. Beneath Celacia’s feet the ground became gray and the soil itself began to dissolve into dust that was swept away in the gentle breeze. The area of decayed earth began to spread out, fingers of dead rock crawling up the side of the mountain behind her and stretching out toward the horses who all whinnied and wrestled against their owner’s reins. From behind Ramiel, Golden Cockerel was thrown from his saddle and his golden horse tore off down the slope. His remaining lieutenant immediately leaped from his own saddle to assist him. Ramiel struggled to keep his large charger calm. Beside him the Oracle’s horse reared up and kicked, tossing the Oracle from its saddle before it too tore off down the slope.

The lieutenant helped get Golden Cockerel to his feet, brushing the dirt and grime off him the best he could. Ramiel growled and dug his black, star-metal boots into the side of his horse. With both hands he forced the beast’s neck down, trying to get the thing under control. But when the horse’s front hooves touched the ground, they landed on a finger of dead earth and the beast screamed out in a most unsettling way. It reared back up with renewed strength and threw Ramiel to the ground. Ramiel had hardly hit the dirt before he was already back up. He tried to grab hold of his horse but the thing tore itself from his grip and retreated down the slope.

Celacia giggled. “Sorry about that. I recall having been able to keep my aura suppressed better. I seem to be having a harder time of it these days.”

Ramiel scowled at Celacia. He was quite an imposing figure even off his lofty steed. Like all of the Saints Caliber, he wore a white leather bodysuit beneath his pitch-black Star-Armor. His armor was heavier than most, with a large breastplate that encompassed his entire chest and back. His left arm and leg were fully armored in black star-metal, with an oversized pauldron that encompassed his shoulder, top of his arm and flared out at the chest and back. The right side of his armor was lighter, with only a small pauldron over the shoulder and his leg only protected by a half-grieve. Only a single plate of black star-metal was upon his right forearm, though both his hands had gauntlets. “What are you?” he barked.