CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The first rays of sunlight illuminated the wisps and billows of smoke that rose from the damaged city. With every passing minute the sun rose higher into the morning sky, lighting the pole that was standing at the head of the cobble walkway. Soon, there was enough light to reveal the head that was on top of the pole, bringing out of the mansion several dozen men including Boyce, carrying his cross bow in his left hand. His left shoulder was in great pain but he was forcing himself to make use of it.
He walked out tall and straight, and from somewhere above, Zoro flapped his way down onto Boyce's other shoulder. It made no sound as the men slowly walked towards the pole, with Lloyd's head mounted atop it.
There was an odd, colourful aura around the head, probably caused by the play of the sun's light, but Boyce believed, with his whole heart, that it was God's presence blessing his dead friend.
The sounds of battle started up again in the distance. Electrophora blared and thunderous sounds followed.
Looking in the direction of the battle's origin, which was north, Boyce and his men saw laser light being shot into the air, and they knew that it could only mean one thing — the second invasion wave had arrived in Pomperaque, as planned.
Boyce fell to his knees and wailed, mourning his fallen friend and teacher, while he still held onto his cross bow.
His cries rose above the thunderous clamour of combat that was drawing nearer to the city.
The young sovereign finally rose to his feet again and looked at Halls with an ultimate contempt that he summoned from his soul.
His eyes had tears in them, and they were red and painful looking. He spat on the ground and took his sabre from its casement and lifted it to the air.
Boyce took a few steps passed the head of his dead friend, and in a voice that carried through the entire city, he yelled at those in Halls.
"Dirt of the world! — Fornicators of men and animals! — Oppressive son-of-whores and satyrs! — Welcomers of saturnine thought! — You foul children of Satan!" Boyce cussed at them. "Maybe you all die in the most prolonged and torturous pain!"
The fighting stopped as the battalions came upon the centre of the city and heard Boyce's booming anger shake all that was around.
Zoro quietly left Boyce's shoulder and then disappeared, unnoticed.
"Prepare yourself for damnation, Manguino. You will die, Orren!"
Boyce's hollering sounded like a promise, more than it did threatening, and he slid his sabre back into its scabbard.
He began to walk towards Halls with the men that came out of the mansion with him.
Those coenobites at Halls were all lined up on the wall of the quadrangle looking towards Boyce, when he yelled.
Cardinal Orren stood in plain sight and watched Boyce slowly approach with his men.
Manguino had listened to Boyce, also, from his office window and he was discomfited by it. He waited for Orren to return to his office. He needed advice on what to do with himself because he could not easily think on his own.
Orren waited for Boyce to reach the wall where he stood and he had ordered his guards not to fire at him. He stood on the wall dressed in his chromium armour and impressive helmet and he stared at Boyce as he stood at the base of the wall in his own majestic armour and helmet.
This was the first time that Orren actually had a good look at this man's battle garb. This time he was certain that he saw on his shoulders the black wing-like epaulettes bringing to mind the 'black feathers' line, in Jessuum's prophesy.
"We had known from the beginning," said Orren. "that you were not to be trusted!"
He looked at Boyce while he spoke and Boyce had a strange smirk on his face when he responded.
"It only means your own downfall, and don't stay under the misconception that you will live to see the end of this day!"
Orren laughed at Boyce, pointing at him, at the same instant.
"Your threats will lead you to the same end as your Bestenese friend!" said the cardinal. "It is to our utmost disappointment that the ArchBishop didn't let us destroy you when we first suspected you!"
Boyce shook his head in defiance.
"My uncle Manguino has never been very intelligent, and you can cease that elitist way of talking because it doesn't become you!"
There was silence for a moment while they exchanged hate-filled glares.
Boyce took a deep breath and called Manguino out to fight.
"Manguino!" he called then waited. "Uncle! — Come and we will settle this war's outcome between ourselves!"
There was no answer and Boyce looked at Orren, laughing menacingly at him.
"He will not answer you!" Orren told Boyce. "He will not fight either, and why should he? He has hundreds of us to fight you for him!"
"Then let me fight each of you until only he remains!" Boyce said provokingly.
Orren shook his head at Boyce and tisked at him.
"Don't you know about the laws of nature, son of Brook?" he tauntingly asked him. "The strong survive while the weak die!"
" — And my God's universal law says that 'good shall destroy evil' — so shall I destroy you, and all those who follow you!"
There was silence again, for a brief moment until Boyce yelled to
Manguino again.
"My uncle, ArchBishop! Coward of the world and Evil incarnate.
Come and do battle with me, alone!"
Once more there was no answer from within the cathedral. This time
Orren was bothered by it. The people could not be allowed to see the
ArchBishop as a coward. He looked down at Boyce then mentioned to some
of his high cardinals to come nearer.
Boyce raised his cross bow at Orren, and Orren's men did the same directed back at him.
"I will see him, Boyce. We will speak again within the hour!"
Orren and two of his high cardinals left the wall and Boyce waited for
Orren to return.
Before Orren went into the cathedral he told his high cardinals to watch Boyce from another vantage point in insure that he doesn't attack.
"If he attacks, destroy him!"
The order was plain and simple, but Boyce didn't attack. Even when his men suggested to him that they charge all of them with surprise.
Boyce didn't want to. He knew that something grave would occur if he did something. Anyway, he had come too far to let stupidity ruin all the sacrifices that he and his dead friend had made, in order to regain the Blue sovereignty.
Orren entered the ArchBishop's office and saw him standing at the window dressed in a purple robe with a scarlet surplice thrown over it.
He didn't say anything for the first while but he eventually glanced over at Orren then looked out the window again.
"I wonder what it would be like, to be killed by a relative?" Manguino asked but not looking for any answer.
Nevertheless, Orren moved closer to him and asked a question in the same manner. "How did it feel to kill a relative?"
Manguino grinned and slightly turned to the cardinal.
"I've wondered that for ten years!" he said to him and he snickered under his breath.
Cardinal Orren went over to the window and faced Manguino peering through the window.
"You don't want to fight him?" Orren stated to him.
Manguino just looked at him and whimpered.
"Where can I go, or what's more, when and how?"
Orren thought for a moment then sighed.
"The old place … the citadel at Tannisea, but you will have to go alone and around the southern coast."
"The route to Tannisea is long and dangerous, Orren. Especially is the southern coastal loop is taken."
Orren touched Manguino's shoulder.
"It's either that or you have to fight Boyce!"
"That's quite a choice!" said Manguino.
"I will take your place while you get along to Tannisea." said Orren. "I'll send you word when to return. That son of Brook Scullion-Blue cannot win."
Manguino took a deep breath and looked out the window again when he heard Boyce's voice calling him out to fight.
"Your time is running out, Manguino. Come fight me or Halls will crumble, never to rise again!"
Orren looked out of the window, too.
"I told him, an hour." said Orren. "I think that he is trying to frighten you!"
"He's his father, all over again." Manguino stated to Orren then leaned his head against the wall by the window.
"Prepare yourself to leave. When I fight him, all will watch and you will be able to get away."
It was strange that Orren was seemingly guiding the ArchBishop's life. After all the years that Manguino, as ArchBishop, was the undisputed ruler of Phoride, he had fallen to a level of mind that very closely resembled that of an idiot.
Orren has really been the one man, who had been controlling Phoride since Manguino's marriage and unending fornication with Eckma.
Orren didn't care on way or the other about his idea that the ArchBishop's unending years of debauchery and perversion had effected his mind. Whether or not that was true was beside the point, right now.
This god's survival was at stake. He couldn't let someone like Boyce show that he was nothing more than a physical and mental weakling.
Orren helped Manguino pack a survival travel bag and saw him off at his personal tunnel that exited, at an isolated cove, on the southern most part of Pomperaque.
With good-byes that were neither sad nor elated, the Cardinal Orren closed off the passage and went back to the courtyard, in front of the chapel. He was dressed in his same battle armour and before leaving the safety of Halls' enclosed quadrangle he instructed his high cardinals to destroy Boyce and his men, if he is beaten. He also told them to destroy the entire city of Pomperaque is he doesn't survive the combat with Boyce.
Boyce had given Tucker and Empal similar instructions, as well, but Boyce's instructions didn't call for the total destruction of his city, if he lost against Orren. His instructions only called for the destruction of the Halls Cathedral.
"Let not one stone remain standing on this butte!" he told them and waited until his rival came to him.
He finally heard the heavy gates of the wall clang and screech open.
He watched the huge doors swing inward and soon after they stopped moving, he saw his personal rival come out ti fight him.
There was a great disappointment and feeling of being cheated in
Boyce's heart when he saw that the man he was about to fight was the
Cardinal Orren instead of the ArchBishop Manguino.
"What's this, Orren? I had called on Manguino to fight with me." Boyce said in anger.
Orren drew nearer, his chromium armour reflecting the morning sun.
He was carrying a cross bow in his left hand and he looked as if he was equally matched, weapon-wise, with Boyce.
Many of those watching Orren slowly walking up to Boyce were frightened that Boyce would not survive.
Orren looked ominous and indestructible and even though Boyce looked like a formidable opponent, his friends were not certain that he would be victorious.
"I want Manguino here before me, immediately!" Boyce demanded and then took a few steps towards him.
"As far as you should be concerned, I am the ArchBishop!" Cardinal
Orren told him calmly.
Boyce slowly came closer to Orren and he prodded him with his cross bow, and with a strangely provoking little smile on his face.
"Am I to take Manguino's cowardice as the surrender of Halls and
Pomperaque, to me?"
Orren was somewhat disturbed by what Boyce said to him and he pushed
Boyce's bow away from himself.
"You are out of your mind." said Orren. "Halls will never surrender to you, or to anyone else. So long as I live, so long as anyone within those walls lives, Halls will not surrender!"
Boyce glared right into Orren's eyes and spoke to him as if he was a little boy.
Orren was annoyed by it all but it helped to build his hostility towards his young opponent.
"I like watching grown men like you and Manguino throwing little tantrums of temper. What is interesting is that these tantrums affect the entire state; where, to relieve your own tension, you have innocent men, women and children murdered."
Boyce stopped for a moment, watching Orren's reaction to what he had said and saw that he was irritating him.
"You and my uncle put my mansion under siege and yet we left Halls alone. We could've destroyed Halls before this war even began!"
Orren interrupted Boyce's momentum by showing his hostile nature.
"You did have Halls under siege!" hollered Orren. "That friend of your, that Bestenese, Bartlett … he had come into Halls and had brutally murdered the ArchBishop's wife and son. That is why I must kill you. I have to avenge their deaths for him as I have avenged the death of my father, Cardinal Allen, by killing his murderer!"
He pointed down the road towards the Blue Mansion and the pole with
Lloyd's head on it.
"You prepare yourself to die, then!" announced Boyce. "I have to avenge deaths, as well. I must avenge the deaths of Brook and Dearborne and my friend, Lloyd!"
He threw his cross bow to the ground and drew his sabre from its scabbard.
"Senseless bloodshed is not the way to fight a war, Cardinal Orren.
Battle, like this, can be the only way!"
They circled around one another, their eyes locked together in an icy stare.
"I take a different view, young Scullion-Blue!" blurted Orren.
"I know — so much is the shame!" replied Boyce just as Orren swung his sword down at him.
Boyce caught the attack with his sabre and he spun around deflecting
Orren's sword out and away from him.
Orren momentarily lost his balance but regained it in time to defend himself against Boyce's attack. They moved around a large area while they brandished their blades at one another.
Boyce's men watched-on in worry and with heated excitement, many of them twitching and grinding their teeth with each whiz and clang of the blades.
The coenobite army watched-on also but they didn't display concern for Orren. Each man's face was expressionless, and they made no movements throughout the fight.
"You fight well!" Orren complimented Boyce.
"Thank-you …" Boyce grunted. " … and you fight, like a pregnant old woman!"
He hurled his sabre horizontally at Orren, but Orren came down on it sending the end to the ground and slashed-out at Boyce.
Boyce lurched back in pain. The armour plating on his chest had a large gash in it and blood was spurting out from the cut.
"You will soon die, Boyce. Be still and I will end it painlessly!'
Orren offered to him.
They stood there gasping for air, hunched over a little as they just stared at one another.
"So long as I have breath, I shall fight you!" Boyce promised to his opponent.
"Suitable!" Orren agreed.
Orren stepped closer and lunged at Boyce.
Boyce shrank backwards, out of the way and managed to land a blow over Orren's back, with his damaged sabre, but all that happened was that the blow dented and cracked the armour. The force of the blow, however, was enough to send Orren toppling over. He landed face down and Boyce went over to him.
He stood over Orren for a moment then helped him t his feet only to be pushed away by him.
"You are a stupid young man." Orren commented. "I would never have helped you!"
Boyce, holding his side with one hand, smiled and staggered backwards a few steps. "Yes, I know!" he added.
Boyce now attacked, brandishing his sabre over and over, rotating it fervently and not giving Orren the chance to make a good swing back at him.
Orren fell back to the ground several times, and Boyce chopped at him, then stepped back. The rhythm of his movements were monotonous and anticipatory, making Orren to constantly step backwards. It was all Orren could do to defend himself.
Then, Boyce stopped and squatted, and glared at him.
Orren slowly made it to his feet, the armour from his own left arm totally ripped off of him and the bloody flesh just hanging off of the bone.
With great pain Orren forced a smile at Boyce clutching his profusely bleeding abdomen.
"You are getting better!" Orren said to Boyce. "But why didn't you finish me off?"
Boyce smiled. "I am having too much fun … besides — I am giving you the chance to live and to surrender!"
Orren shook his head and Boyce knew that he could not reach a compromise with Orren. Now, he had to try his hardest against this man.
Orren felt the same way. He now realised that Boyce was trained very well for this kind of fighting. It was then that Orren's mind was illuminated to all that has occurred up to this moment. He understood the prophesy and he could see the truth behind his killing Lloyd. Yet, he also understood that there was now no turner back or reconciling.
"Be on your guard!" Orren warned with a hint of affection and admiration in his voice.
"And you!" echoed Boyce.
Orren lunged at Boyce but quickly withdrew as Boyce pitched forward at him.
The move momentarily confused Boyce and catching him unaware for an instant, but he quickly fell to the ground and rolled forward a few times to escape the deadly reel that Orren had followed him with.
Dust flew up from the ground as Orren gouged the earth with his sword, again missing Boyce.
Boyce came to his feet slowly and was smiling, and Orren nodded complimentarily to him for anticipating his tactic.
They continued to fight and the time passed. Soon it was an hour passed since they had started to fight.
They hadn't said very much after the first hairy tactic that Orren had tried on Boyce. The rest of the time was spent in offensives and countering, each man trying to out-think and out-skill the other.
Boyce would wave his sabre at Orren only to change his direction at the last second, while aiming at a totally different part of Orren's body.
Orren soon caught on to it and he played the game according to Boyce's rules, but both men
were exhausted and weak from a loss of blood.
Boyce's men were extremely worried about him and throughout the hour of combat they winced and cringed with each grind on the bashing blades.
Each of the men had scored blows against the other, but none of them were of sufficient force to do much else than dent their armour.
Just as those warriors, that were watching, thought that their leader's fight neared an end, and an end for Boyce especially, Boyce pushed on and disarmed Orren.
He stood there feeling stark naked and he waited for Boyce to run him through. Instead, Boyce slackened his sabre off to one side.
Breathing heavily, Boyce lifted his sabre to Orren and asked him if he wanted to continue with bare hands.
"You are mad!" Orren answered him then got to his feet.
Orren was first to charge head-long into Boyce's stomach, the top part of his helmet gouging into Boyce's wound.
Boyce grabbed Orren's helmet and twisted it until Orren sank to his knees and pulled himself away. The helmet came off and Boyce threw it off to one side. Boyce then took his own helmet and threw it beside Orren's.
Orren looked up at Boyce who was now bowed-over, and while breathing heavily he held on to his injury.
"Maybe we should stop now and pick up where we left off, tomorrow!"
Orren joked.
Boyce shook his head. "So long as we breath, we fight. We agreed,
Orren!"
Boyce ducked as Orren came upon him, and he was sent flying over
Boyce's back.
Boyce caught Orren's injured arm and pulled on the flesh that hung from it. Orren screamed in his utter agony, rolling on the ground with his gauntlet clutching his totally damaged arm.
Boyce was in great pain, too, but he stood on his feet and approached
Orren, still on the ground.
He was entirely covered in a coat of dust and his face and hair was caked with dirt and partially drying, clotted blood.
He was coughing mouthfuls of dust that he had sucked up in his painful gasps while rolling around on the ground, and Boyce threw the handful of flesh to the ground beside their helmets.
Boyce looked down at Orren, now breathing steadier with cleaner mouthfuls of air.
Their eyes welded their gazes together and boyce felt sorry for his adversary. He saw that Orren could not speak from the pain, but he saw in his eyes the unmistakeable plea for mercy — the mercy of being totally released from the pain and agony wrought by an injured body, and mutilated confidence.
Boyce knelt down and took Orren about the head, embracing him.
"Somehow you seemed to be more different than any of the others at
Halls!" he said to Orren.
Boyce then quickly stood up while still holding Orren's head tightly in his arms. He made a very quick jerking motion and spun around simultaneously. By the time Boyce was fully on his feet Orren's neck was snapped.
The act was painless and quick, and merciful, and Orren did not struggle while it happened.
Boyce gently lowered Orren's limp body to the ground by his feet. He bowed his head to look at his dead opponent and he preyed to the true Living God to forgive both him and Orren for their transgressions in life. He then looked up at their two helmets and at the three birds that picked at the flesh that he threw to the ground beside them.
Suddenly, Boyce heard a muffled whistling sound and a cold stabbing pain penetrated him from the back.
The high cardinals were carrying through with Orren's final wish, to destroy the city and all those who lived therein.
One of the archers shot Boyce through the back with an arrow, from a cross bow.
Tucker led a charge of the cathedral forcing the guards to withdraw into the chapel itself.
Empal ran to Boyce's limp body and pulled the arrow out, breaking off the point.
Cavander soon came along after seeing, from the blue Mansion, that the fight between his master and the Cardinal Orren was over.
He helped Empal take Boyce back to the blue Mansion, leaving behind the two warriors' battle helmets and swords, and the three birds that picked at the flesh that was once part of the living Orren's arm.