Continued from "The Knights of Keiar #2"…

As Angus wiped his brow and Gilead continued to glare at him, it was obvious that, around them, the battle was leaning in the favor of the trolls. No matter how many trolls Xena, Gabby, and the ragtag army cut down and knocked out, more seemed to come, like an ominous tidal wave, advancing upon a helpless boat. Xena turned around to look at Gilead, wondering why he wasn’t helping. Before her eyes found Gilead, however, she saw that six or seven men from Angus’s army had dug a passage in the middle of the hole they had been sitting in, and had uncovered a trap door leading underground. She yelled at the top of her lungs.

"GILEAD!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING???"

Gilead looked at Xena, who was pointing to the trapdoor in the pit. Into the door rushed the men, women and children who had given up on fighting the trolls. As they scrambled into the hole, fearing for their lives, Xena and the four knights were forced stay back and cover their trail, as a few more trolls came forward, wielding daggers, darts, and maces.

Gilead grabbed Angus’s arm, whirled him around and shoved him toward the trapdoor. Angus stopped, and looked back at Gilead.

Gilead:
"Get your rear inside! But don’t you think about going anywhere! I’m not finished with you!"

Angus slid into the trapdoor feet first, and a moment later his body disappeared. Seeing this, Gilead assumed that the passage must be a downhill slide. Sensing movement, he turned to his left, just in time to see Gabby unconscious on the ground. Blood was running down the left side of her forehead.

"Gabby!"

Gilead jumped over, slashing a troll in the air, and landed near Gabby. By the time he had carried Gabby’s limp body over to the still open trapdoor five yards away, he saw that only Xena, along with Homan, one of the knights, still remained; everyone else had already retreated.

At the mouth of the hole, Gilead hesitated to send the unconscious Gabby sliding down into the dark; who knows what could be down there, and whether Angus and his men had not taken off already, leaving them behind? But then, did he have a choice?

He turned and called out to Xena.

"Mother!"

Xena, without looking back, busy knocking a troll over its head:
"Yes?!"
"Take Gabby and go! I’ll cover your back!"

Without listening for his mother’s response, he got up and ran toward Xena. He grabbed her arm. "Now!"

Xena was about to protest, but felt it would be useless to argue with her son, a warrior trained by Athena, the goddess of war and wisdom. Xena gave her son a nod, and ran off toward Gabby.

Gilead looked out into the dark forest. Yellow eyes glowed in the blackness, ready to spring. He then looked up at the stars, littered across the sheet of dark blue velvet that was the sky. Turning his head, and seeing Xena send Gabby down the hole, and slide down herself, Gilead resumed his battle position. Homan, also ready with his spear, eyed Gilead.

"Methinks it is time to retreat, sir Gilead."

Gilead did not take his gaze off of the glowing eyes in the distance. "Yes."

Gilead and Homan inched backward, closer and closer to the hole. As they stepped back down into the shallow depression in the ground, Homan’s leg tangled with Gilead’s, knocking both men down into the pit with a thud.

Not missing a golden opportunity, a troll fired an arrow with blinding speed as Homan and Gilead were falling backward. Gilead tried to snatch the arrow away, but by the time both men hit the ground, the arrow was already in Homan’s right forearm. Gilead swore. He reached over, and with a powerful pull, dislodged the arrow from Homan’s arm, followed by an "Oww!!!" on Homan’s part.

"Come on, Homan; no time to lose!"

Dragging the knight along to the trapdoor opening, Gilead felt a sharp pain in his arm, but did not bother to look back; he had taken an arrow in the back of his forearm, and stopping to look back would only mean more punctures on his skin. He gave a terrific effort, pulled the heavily clad knight over, and slid him down the trapdoor hole. Then, taking another arrow, he finally made it down the shaft himself.

As he slid down the steep hill that was the floor of the underground passage, Gilead yanked the arrows out of his arm with a jerk. Examining his wounds as he was sliding down, he saw that his wounds were rather minor, which came as no big surprise.

Shifting gears, Gilead observed how carefully this shaft had been constructed. The walls and ceiling of the small passage, barely wide enough to fit one person, was made of tightly packed clay bricks; and to make the surface as slippery as possible, it was waxed over with a type of oil.

The slide continued for quite some time. Gilead coiled up his body, and turned himself around so he was lying on his stomach and looking up toward the ground opening of the trapdoor. The faint light coming in indicated that no one was following him. This is strange, he said to himself. Why are they letting us go so easily? And just who in Tartarus is behind all this???

Gilead turned his body around again, so he was sliding down feet first, lying on his back. The passage had widened, and there were lamps lining up either wall, held up by cradles. He could see the end of the passage coming up. Just how deep under are we going, Gilead thought.

After he had plummeted down unto a pile of hay, obviously placed there to let a slider come to an easy rest, Gilead looked around. He was in a square-shaped chamber, carved under ground, its dimensions approximately six feet by six feet. Dozens of lamps tightly fixed to the walls illuminated this otherwise pitch-dark room, showing that the floor of this chamber was covered in soft sand. As he got to his feet and shook off the dust, he could see everyone now: Angus, who now had his left foot wrapped in bandages; Angus’s ragtag army, battered and exhausted; and the four knights, with bumps and bruises.

Xena was in a corner nursing Gabby’s head wound. Gabby’s face had been washed clean of blood, but the cut over her left eye was evident. Gilead eyed Angus for a moment, wanting to say something, but he changed his mind and walked over to Gabby.

"How is she, mother?"
"Fine. She was evidently struck in the head, with a spear perhaps. But the wound is only skin deep and everything else seems normal," said Xena, looking up.
"Thank the gods," Gilead sighed in relief.

Gilead gave his mother a kiss, and then kissed Gabby on the cheek. Presently, Angus shifted his position, and moved over to the center of the misshapen circle the people had formed. He spoke, in a very grand manner, as if he was announcing some great news, or giving a command to his subjects: "Okay, ladies and gentlemen. I think we’ll be safe here for the time being. Now, if you’ll all sit down and catch your breath, we will plan our next move."

One youth, from Angus’s tattered army, rose. "No sir. We are not safe."

"Oh really? Since when were you the strategic leader of our army, huh?" asked Angus, giving the boy a disapproving look. The youth, however, seemed to ignore Angus’s hints to be silent: Look, kid. I know what the hell I’m doing. How dare you tell me, your prince, what is good and not good!

The youth continued, unfazed. "Sir Angus. With all due respect, haven’t you figured out by now, that if they were resourceful enough to find our hidden camp, they’d have found our stronghold, as well?"

Just as Angus was ready to give the boy a full-scale holler, Gilead interrupted. "Excuse me, but do you folks mind??? We’ve no time or the resources to be having this shouting match!" yelled Gilead, picking up and hurling a lamp at Angus. Angus leapt back to avoid being burned by the hot tin surface.

When he had everyone’s attention, Gilead continued.

"Now, sir Angus. You still have some questions you have to answer."

Angus glowered at Gilead. "What does it matter, anyway? They saw you here, with us; now you three have been labeled as their enemies, along with us! Do you really think you’ll be safe out there on your own? You’ll be overwhelmed by thousands of those creatures ganging up on you! Better to stay here."

Gilead retorted. "And whose fault is that?! You dragged us into this battle of yours, Keiar!!!!!"

There were muffled whispers and murmurs among Angus’s army. "There you go again, calling me Keiar," accused Angus.

Gilead:

"Speak up and tell me! Your story does not make chronological sense; I’ve done some estimation, and you are way too old to be Keiar’s son. If what you told us were true, you should be no older than nine years of age."

The murmur of the crowd was now a loud and confused chatter. The Knights, meanwhile, were dumbfounded and stood around like idiots, all the while thinking they had to eliminate Gilead, this young man who knew too much. Behind Gilead, Gabby was doing some quick math in her head, while Xena looked over at Angus. Angus had the expression of a boy who, having hidden a puppy in their parents’ house, was hoping to Zeus that his parents would not find out about the dog. Looking at such a face, it did not take a god to figure out that this man, who called himself Angus, was lying.

Gilead decided to wait until the excitement and confusion died out. He waited for Angus to come forward and confess. By now, there was not a shadow of a doubt that this man named Angus was really Keiar, but Gilead wanted to hear why Keiar had made up this story in the first place.

After an eternity, or what felt like it, Angus/Keiar, who had been staring down at his feet, looked directly at Gilead’s piercing black eyes, then over to his knights, then his army, then finally at Xena and Gabby. He came forward and plunked down on the sand floor, creating dust.

"All right! You win, detective. I am Keiar. I have no son. I escaped from Caesar’s army and set up my kingdom, as well the castle I’m about to show you."

Xena:

"Before you go too far…tell us why you lied. Tell us whatever you need to tell us to make us nod in understanding."

Without a word, Gilead, Xena, and Gabby sat down in front of Keiar, facing him. "Nothing gets by you folks, does it?" said Keiar with a demeaning grin, at which Gilead grasped his sword handle. Seeing that, Keiar jerked back and put his hands up, defensively. "Okay, you win! I won’t kid around anymore. Just listen."

Gilead relaxed himself, feeling rather out of place.

Angus/Keiar began:

"You heard me right. I am not Angus but Keiar. Angus does not even exist. I do not have a son, and, yes, I lied to you folks."

Gilead’s eyes seemed to say, yes, we already know that. Anything else?

"When I had failed in capturing Caesar, and barely escaped with my life intact, I realized something: if one cannot survive in their environment, they just have to make a new one. I fled here, in a remote forest in this god-knows-where place, and staked out my land. I built my castle, part underground and part above ground, its gates well hidden."

Looking directly into Gilead’s eyes, Keiar continued, almost as if read Gilead’s mind. Gilead was about to blurt out a question about whether these mind reading knights were human, but Keiar spoke just in time, almost as if to deliberately cut him off.

"You may all be wondering how my four knights came to be." Keiar stood up. Taking a step back, Keiar raised his hands and gripped his face. "You may not like what you see."

Before their very eyes, Keiar pulled off the mask that was his face. Under that life-like mask was a red, scaly face, almost like that of a fish. Gabby clutched onto Gilead’s shoulder.

Keiar:

"You see, my friends. We are not of this world. We are a cursed breed, endowed with powers that humans cannot understand."

The ragtag army and the four knights all took their masks off. They were all like Keiar, with scaly faces of varying colors, but all variations of a deep, red hue. "Our skin cannot endure dry air for very long," said one elderly man from the army, putting his mask back on. "We nurture ourselves in water. We need water, like the fish of your world," said the elder.

"I see," mumbled Gilead, nodding.

Keiar:
"You see, our saturated masks serve a double purpose. We can look inconspicuous, and at the same time, we can keep our faces from drying up."

Gabby, who had been following Keiar’s narration without a word, snapped back into reality, and thrust her way into the conversation. "Okay…so you are not human; I got that. But where did those trolls come from? They are supposed to be mythical creatures, as are unicorns. Did they…come from your world?"

Kore gave her a nod. "Yes. Our supreme master, Ares, originally created us to work—"

"ARES?!" Xena burst out, cutting Kore off.

Kore:
"Yes, my lady; I said Ares. The God of War."

Gabby:

"Ares created your people? To do what?"

Kore:

"I was getting to that. The God of War originally made us to be his slaves and fighting force. We had to do anything that he told us to do, including raiding and plundering. It was a miserable existence, being forced to do evil against our will, so we united to overpower him and escape."

Gilead:
"Hold it right there! Are you saying that Ares, a god, was overpowered by his own creations?!"

Kore:

"Please, sir Gilead. Calm down."

Gilead:

"I’ll calm down when you give some answers!"

Keiar cut both Gilead and Kore off. "I shall answer everything. Ares, to ensure victory wherever he sent us, gave us supernatural abilities far beyond our imaginations. We were given the power of telepathy, which enables us to read others’ minds or keep our minds from being read. We can also communicate from a long distance. We became highly resistant to all mortal diseases, and we can look back in time to the past."

Gilead froze. The powers these beings have are exactly like my own! Ares had evidently modeled these creations exactly after Gilead, who was the work of Ares’ sister, Athena.

Keiar, apparently oblivious to what Gilead was thinking:

"With our combined powers, we were able to neutralize Ares’ abilities, and we sent him into another dimension, freeing us from his psychic grasp. We then disguised ourselves and went into hiding. Since Ares could no longer tell where and who we were, he had to try and locate us by foot."

Xena turned to Gabby and Gilead. "What can I say? Ares is obviously new to this creation thing, so he messed up," whispered Xena. She then said to Keiar, "I’m sorry to say this, but your existence is actually a mistake. You were supposed to be evil, but Ares screwed up somewhere back there."

"Don’t we all know that," replied Keiar bitterly.

Gilead feigned an interest in the ongoing conversation.

"Telepathy, heh? That is why I repeatedly failed when I tried to probe your minds," he grumbled.

Rexlar, the brown knight:

"So, you too have the power of telepathy. But let me ask you; where and how did you learn it? To my understanding, human minds are not capable of mastering telepathy."

Gilead:
"…"

Rexlar:
"Sir Gilead?"

Kore reached over and tapped Gilead’s arm. Gilead, who was lost in thought, acted as if he had just been rudely awakened.

Kore:
"Rexlar here asked you a question, sir."

Gilead shook his head to clear his mind. "Huh? Oh, yeah. It’s…a long story, but if you must know, I learned all my skills from Athena, the goddess of wisdom and war."

Thinking about Ares and his resolve to succeed in killing him made Gilead’s spine tingle. Well, no matter. If I am destined to die again, so be it; I will not run from that fate. It’s as simple as that.

Gilead turned his attention back to Keiar. "And now?"

Keiar:
"Now Ares is back, looking for us…"

Gilead thought in his head, making sure Keiar and his men could not read his mind: not you, Keiar. He’s after me.

"I’d say he has found you already," said Gilead out loud.

Kore:
"Yes."

Gabby:
"But where do the trolls come from? Did Ares create them, too?"

Keiar:
"Yes. Since he made us too strong, ‘tis looks like he opted for highly unintelligent beings this time to do his dirty work."

Xena:
"So once again we are fighting none else but Ares…"

Gilead:
"This is a game, mother, not a war. A game of war that Ares loves to play. (Only this time the stakes are high—he gets my head as the grand prize if he wins.)"

Gabby:
"And we are the pawns!"

Gilead:
"Yes. (And I am the grand prize. So, Ares made the trolls, too. And they have been endowed with the power of telepathy as well…which completely neutralizes my powers. So I’ll have to rely on my sword alone this time.)"

Ares laughed sadistically as he slashed another young man’s throat with his knife, letting the limp body drop to the ground. Behind him, Callisto, who had once again managed to come back to life with help from Ares, flashed her evil smile. The two gods were standing in a dimly lit stone temple, with countless dead bodies lying around their feet. "Soon, Callisto," announced Ares, smiling, then bursting into laughter. Callisto stepped forward, wet her hands in the blood of the killed young man, and rubbed the blood on the big cocoon-like sac sitting in front of her, on top of an altar. Callisto shuddered, as a cold wave hit her. "I can feel her. She is ready. She’s eager to get out…" said Callisto, trembling with joy, anticipating what was still to come. She poked the one person-sized cocoon. "Ten more," she mumbled.

To be continued…