Loki: Thanks! We shall see what horrors can befall it.
Avindian: Excellent! Welcome aboard!
Deus Eversor: Right, it felt almost wrong to attack people with Land Tech 70 armies and 150% discipline when they were 40 techs behind!
Chapter 1 –The Prisoner and the Pit
January 2nd 1820
It was a cold winter’s day in London, capital of the Imperial Exarchate of Agklia.
The Tower of London, once the home, fortress and prison of the English monarchy, now served a different master. From the battlements the two headed eagle of the Empire flew, while heavily armed soldiers with the same badge guarded all the entrances.
Down below in the cells, the prisoner was woken by a guard banging the bars with his rifle butt.
“Hey you, wake up!” he shouted. By his accent he was English.
The prisoner sat up. She looked a mess, with dark tangled hair and dirty clothes, but her bright blue eyes fixed on the guard. “What is it?” she asked.
“You’re wanted. He has arrived.”
Guards entered and grabbed her, securing her wrists behind her back before dragging her out into the corridor.
Through the subterranean passages she was led until she was brought at last to a large stone chamber with what appeared to be a well in the middle of it. There, more guards were waiting…and the man she had not wanted to see. She faltered in her steps and the guards picked her up and dumped her down before him.
The man stood in expensive dark robes, watching her for a long moment. Finally he reached down and pulled her to her feet.
“Mel, I am disappointed in you,” he stated.
Melissa looked up at him, for he was a good six inches taller than she. “Jacob…” she said softly. They both spoke a language unknown to anyone else in the world, a language which kept them from being overheard by anyone else.
“Now, now, you know that I am Lord Kyros now and the Emperor’s Chancellor.”
She shook her head. “How many did you kill to get that position?” Melissa asked bitterly.
Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “Says the rebel and traitor? I was given the position freely by his majesty for my actions. Those actions involve trying to bring peace and stability in spite of your criminal band of rebels. You, Mel, stirred up these traitors, and now hundreds, thousands have died, and it’s all down to you. And you speak to me of killing!” he hissed.
“The Empire has gone too far, Jacob. When will you be satisfied? Will your lust for conquest never end?”
“We all have our path, my dear. Mine is to bring order to this world, and the Empire is the tool to do this; Yours is to try and cast down all my efforts. I wonder though what it is you and your rebels hope to achieve?” Jacob waved his hand expansively. “Overthrow the Empire, cast down the tyrant…and then what, Mel? I have brought stability and order to Europe such as it has never experienced. It has been three centuries since an army fired a shot in anger in Greece or Anatolia.”
“People should be able to choose their own fate,” Melissa replied.
“Their fate if the protection of the Empire fails is to die in civil war and strife,” Jacob retorted.
“I think not. Self-determination is possible, desirable!”
“Your naïveté shines through once more, Mel. All people desire power, and if given a chance they will not stop until they have it, or are destroyed. That is why the Empire, and I, are needed.”
When she made to answer he waved his hand. “Regardless, your experiment will not be put to the test. For all your idealism I do not underestimate you, but now you are here, my prisoner. When I heard you had been captured I took the airship immediately from Constantinople because I knew you had to be dealt with once and for all.”
Melissa stared at him. “What do you mean ‘dealt with’? After all I’ve done for you? After all we’ve seen? You would try and kill me? Have you forgotten our ‘gift’?”
Jacob smiled unpleasantly. “I am well aware that neither of us can die through conventional means, but then…I had a stroke of luck. You were wise to try and be rid of this, but I still found it.” “Hold her,” he ordered the guards in a language they understood. From his robe he produced a small folding knife, meticulously cleaned and maintained, yet very worn.
The effect was astonishing. Melissa’s eyes widened and she fought to get away and it took three of the guards to hold her.
Jacob unfolded the blade and weighed it in his hand. “After all you’ve done for me, Doctor Nolan? Well it’s true that neither of us would be here were it not for you. I’m not sure if I should thank you for that or not. However, yes, you have been of great assistance to me in the past. However you have let yourself get deceived by the lies of rebels and traitors. You have tried to thwart the Empire, and you have failed. For anyone else this would carry the penalty of death. However, I think that death would be less of a punishment than the one I have devised.”
Jacob pointed to the well, and guards unlocked the barred top revealing a deep, dark shaft. Melissa fought with all her strength, but there were too many, and she was forced to the brink.
“You choice now is to accept life imprisonment…or die.”
Melissa looked at the blade in his hand. It was so small, yet it was the only thing in this whole crazy world she knew would kill her. Many other things had attempted the feat but never succeeded. Watching the blade her courage failed her, and she shook her head.
“The pit it is then. But first…a reminder for you.”
The guards forced her head on the rim of the pit and held her there as the blade inched closer. Jacob trailed the razor sharp blade down her cheek, starting a line of blood down her face.
“Remember, nothing lasts forever, Mel.” He looked at the guards. “Throw her in. See that she is treated with every courtesy and given good food, clothes and bedding…but on pain of death she is not to escape, or receive any visitors.”
“Jacob, please!” she called, wincing at the pain on her cheek as she spoke.
“You reap what you sow, my dear. Goodbye. I will come and see you again…eventually.”
Helpless to resist, Mel was forced head first into the hole, and then she was falling. The impact with the stone floor should have been far more serious than a little cut on her cheek, and yet she had staggered to her feet in mere moments showing no ill effects. Her cheek though continued to bleed.
“Can you at least undo my wrists?” she called up.
A key dropped down and landed on the stone, followed by some blankets and pillows.
While Melissa scrabbled around for the key she looked about her new prison. She was deep underground in the darkness, and only the hole above provided any light. However her dungeon was quite large, though cold and barren.
When she finally freed herself she managed to stem the bleeding to her cheek, and then slumped to the ground. She was trapped, helpless, imprisoned for life. Knowing her current condition that might be a very long time!
(There are pictures attached, but Photobucket is being mean this morning.)