Chapter 4 Part 2

Morteous Blackheart did not even wait to be announced. He walked into his brother's private chambers and closed the door behind him.

Serpent Blackheart was sitting at his desk with several high officials and the High Priest of Set in attendance when his brother barged into his room. He was not angry, though annoyance was possible, for he was aware of the sudden cancellation of the attack on the enemy at his brother's request. He suspected something had happened of great importance for his brother to be acting in this manner.

Morteous looked at Serpent then at the officials. Seeing this, Serpent dismissed his cabinet of advisors so that he and Morteous could converse in private. "Well," he said when they were alone.

"We have a problem," Morteous said as he tried to catch his breath for he had been running through the halls of the palace since he materialized near the main entrance.

"What trouble could get a master warlock in such a flustered mood," Serpent asked as he leaned back in his seat.

"The Dawn of Law has returned," he replied choking on his own words. "I saw it with my own eyes."

"Liberator!" Serpent Blackheart spat the name like a curse. "How?"

"I don't know but that sword will seriously hinder our efforts. Its very existence is counter to our cause."

"Damn, of all times for that cursed sword to show up." Serpent stood and paced about his room for a moment then stopped in front of the altar. "What exactly did you see," he asked as he stared at the idol of the dark snake god.

"I tracked the enemy to the last place they had used magic and found myself before the gate of the Oracle. I knew they were inside, but that place is shielded from me by the Dragon's power. I settled down to wait and see if any of them would return. About noon of the next day, a lone halfelf appeared before the entrance. It was he that held the sword. I decided against immediate attack because I was not certain of my abilities against a talisman of such power. So I canceled the ambush and waited to see how many of them remain. There are only seven left."

Serpent stood quietly for a moment. "Dare we let the Dukes of Hell learn of this? They might back out of the alliance."

He stared off into space as he thought upon his brother's story. "We must destroy them now," he insisted. "Unfortunately, a direct confrontation on the scale needed to overcome their rapidly increasing power in addition to that damned weapon would attract too much attention."

"Have we determined their destination yet?" Morteous asked.

"They seek the Well of Time, Uncle, as we suspected" Miguel said as he entered the room.

"Do you make a habit of eavesdropping?" Morteous asked the young priest.

"Hardly," the young noble answered. "I only heard the last bit."

"The Well of Time," Serpent repeated slowly.

"Set has assured me that is their destination," the youth acknowledged.

"Did the dark god tell you where the place is?"

"Yes," Miguel announced. "My god has revealed much to me this evening. The Well of Time lies in the center of the Isle of Time in the Sea of Strata. The magic required to reach that place requires a rare component because that valley is shielded against normal teleportation and scrything, but there is a gateway in the mountains near Gly-ou-vogue that can be used without magic."

"Good," Serpent said as he returned to his desk. "Listen to my plan." The trio gathered around as the tyrant unrolled a map of the northern world.

"The only ice boat port not under my control, which is on the same side of the world as their destination is the Twin Cities. I will send my new servant to rejoin his brethren there. I will also dispatch a company of specters and wraiths to pace their progress. Tyson will have orders to get individuals to venture away from the group on occasion. The undead can deal with those who do." Serpent looked at his brother. "Morteous," he said, "I want you to watch and determine if the wielder of that sword can use it. If he can, we will wait until he is at a disadvantage then we will attack him en masse."

Miguel looked confused. "What sword are we talking about?"

"Liberator," his uncle informed him.

"That is not good, father."

"I am not afraid of that sword," Serpent said angrily. "Remember, no weapon forged by man or god can defeat Reaper."

"Do not be foolish Father," the younger man advised--words that would surely have meant the death of any other man. "The Sword of Justice was forged by the Creator Himself to be wielded by the brethren of the Godking. It is at the top of the Sword Hierarchy and yields only to the Sword of Power, itself." Miguel gripped the table so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Liberator defies Reaper's prophesy. You can no longer rely on it for protection."

"What if we had Devastator?" Morteous wondered.

"The Sword of Chaos could only achieve a draw at best," Miguel answered. "And Devastator has not been seen in over a thousand years." He had studied sword lore in his rise through the priesthood when his father had come into possession of Reaper. The most powerful of all swords was the Sword of Power, Excalibur. It was spoken of by the gods, but never seen by mortal man, at least not in this world. Beneath Excalibur was Liberator and Devastator. Beneath them was the four swords of virtue and vice, of which Reaper was one. The others were Vanguard, Blight and Defender, each possessing unique powers and equal to Reaper if in skilled hands. And beneath them were eight lesser powered swords, beneath which were sixteen even weaker swords and so on. Each sword had its own history and legends. But only Reaper's prophesy made such bold promises of invincibility.

Serpent Blackheart tightened his hand on the grip of his sword. What his son had told him was true and he knew it. Finally he slammed his fist down on the desk in frustration. "Events are turning against us," he declared, "and that is all the more reason to destroy these people now!"