It’s time for a snack, Tito! Hurry home or I shall eat it all!
The memory made his lips curve. Perhaps, in Phenie’s honor, he’d concede that Sharine was right in her reproof. The device in her hand would ensure his scientists could get under way at speed.
Not that he’d tell Sharine he agreed with her—she struck him as the kind of woman who’d say “I told you so” and he’d heard quite enough of that in his childhood, thank you very much.
Especially from Charo. The youngest of his sisters was an inveterate gloater.
“Here.” Sharine handed over the device that felt flimsy and breakable in his hand. “I’ve touched the button that should connect you to your court.”
It was his steward who answered the call. “Yash,” Titus boomed. “I need you to fetch either Tzadiq, Tanae, Orios, or Ozias.” Yash was brilliant at running the household, but it’d be better to give this particular information to someone who’d ensure the scholars and scientists didn’t get themselves eaten by a deranged buffalo.
“Sire.” A stunned response, but the man recovered fast. “I’ll fetch Orios at once; I saw the weapons-master just now.”
Glancing down, Titus saw that three of the creatures had managed to take down a fourth, were now feasting on his yet-pink flesh. That meant the infection was recent. Unable to stand by and watch any being writhe in agony, Titus sent down a bolt of power that erased all four from existence. The rest of the herd screamed in a way that was eerily unnatural—buffalo didn’t make that sound—but they didn’t scatter.
Rather, they turned and looked up at him, trying to jump in a way that was impossible for their ungainly bodies.
Orios came on the line. “Sire, when Yash told me it was you on the line, I thought for certain he’d taken a blow to the head!” The weapons-master’s voice was as deep and resonant as Titus’s. “What calamity has befallen us now?”
Of all the people in his court, Orios was the one with whom Titus was the closest. Perhaps because Orios had been with him from the very beginning; the only reason he wasn’t Titus’s second was because he preferred the duties of a weapons-master.
I have no patience for the politics that come with being second, he’d said when Titus brought up the question soon after his ascension. You need a second with a bit more cunning and charm to him, one who’ll soften your blunt edges when it comes to dealing with the seconds of others in the Cadre. You should promote Tzadiq—he’s an excellent general, but he will be a brilliant second.
Orios had been right in his advice, and now Titus had an intelligent and urbane second he trusted to uphold Titus’s honor—while not insulting everyone in the vicinity. “It has reached the animals, my friend,” he told Orios, then laid out the details.
“I’ll send out a science team with an escort,” Orios told him, his tone grim. “The scholars have become more practical since the war, but I don’t trust them outside without protection.”
Neither did Titus; immortal scholars could sometimes live on their own planet. “I leave it in your capable hands.” After ending the conversation, he passed the phone back to Sharine, then went about creating the earthen prison for the chosen buffalo.
That done, he erased the rest of the infected animals from existence, his power leaving another scar in the landscape of his territory. It bruised his heart to see that, but it had to be done.
They saw no other unnatural creatures in the hours that passed, but while the cities appeared well enough—if quiet and on edge—the damage to the passing villages and farms was becoming increasingly worse. “Lumia?”
Though he hadn’t spoken for the past two hours, Sharine understood what he was asking. “We were safe—the reborn never reached that far.” She indicated below. “From what I saw on my previous journey, this is the worst-hit section on this side of the border.”
Titus took in the damage. “Charisemnon was playing with fire thinking he could control the reborn.” Only Lijuan’d had that ability.
“He also left his people helpless against them,” Sharine said, her tone full of cut glass, bright and bloody. “I was informed that he drafted not only angels and vampires, but strong mortals into his troops—including people from farmsteads and villages.”
“My spymaster has confirmed this.” Titus still had difficulty understanding the why of it. “Farmers and field workers?” None would’ve stood a chance in a battle between immortals. It wasn’t the same as when Guild Hunters or mercenaries joined in—they were highly trained and made the decision of their own free will.
The African Guild had all defected to Titus’s side as soon as Charisemnon’s perfidy and evil became clear, and they’d fought with courage and heart and skill. The Guild had taken losses, but at about the same percentage as the rest of Titus’s forces. No one would ever consider a hunter easy prey.
Quite unlike the poor scared mortals called up by Charisemnon.
“I understand now why so many villagers burned their homes to the ground—they would’ve had no chance one-on-one. It was a smart choice to lead or drive the monsters inside a house, then turn it into a funeral pyre.”
“The only choice, I think.” Sharine’s eyes were soft with sadness. “Even if it left them without a home.”
“These people showed more courage than the hind end of an ass who called himself their archangel.”
It was at the next battered but still living village, flaming torches marking out its boundaries, that he made a decision. “I will land. These people need to understand that I am now their liege and I will send help.” Such had always been in his plans—but he hadn’t realized the sheer depth of the devastation in this area.
Titus had been a fool; he’d believed that his enemy would’ve protected his own people, not crippled them. With so much available prey, a few reborn would’ve quickly turned into many. “I assumed that leaking bag of pus would’ve at least placed a rear guard whose task it was to eliminate any reborn who scuttled north.”
“Assumptions are the enemy of coherence,” Sharine said.
In other words, You’re an idiot.
“I would’ve never attacked my own people!” It came out thunder in the air that caused startled villagers to jerk their heads upward.
Sharine looked at him for long moments before inclining her head. “I accept that. Your honor made you expect too much from someone who had no honor. Remember that, Titus.” A fierce intensity to her. “Remember that there are those in this world who will cross every line and feel no guilt in doing so.”
He’d witnessed that ugliness with Lijuan. The Archangel of Death had used children to her own ends. Such was not to be borne. And yet, he’d made this mistake, left the north too long untended. Yes, Sharine was right to castigate him. He’d been foolish and these people had paid for it.
Landing in the center of the village, dust swirling around him as he folded back his wings, he waited until she was down, too, before he took in the villagers. He would not have anyone say that he hadn’t watched over the Hummingbird while she was in his care—not that she seemed to want or even need his concern.
No one had warned him she was so contrary.
Had all of angelkind lied to him for an eon? Surely that was impossible.
“Well,” she murmured, for in the time since their landing, every single raggedly dressed villager within sight had gone down flat to the earth, their faces pressed to the dirt and their hands palm-to-palm in front in a pose of supplication that disturbed him on the deepest level.