In Harmony We Trust - Ryan Matthew Harker (most popular novels of all time txt) 📗

of his mouth.
Harmony rose sinuously to his feet, donning the cowl of his robe as he did so, and glided out of his tent with the fluidity of a snake.
The burning afternoon sun was fading to an evening glow. The black skin of Harmony’s tent absorbed the sunlight thoroughly, giving the impression that a black hole rested on the surface of the planet. It was a reflection of the black of Harmony’s eyes as he stretched gracefully and took in his surroundings with clarity of vision that was newly awakened. The bulk of his gargantuan army had pressed closer to the besieged city and he noticed that his tent was no longer at its center but had shifted more towards the rear.
Looking ahead Harmony noticed the empty cage and scowled. He had left it placed in front of his tent to remind him of the duplicity of his allies and the tenacity of his enemies. He glided slowly up to the wheeled enclosure and reached out to rub a finger down one of its bars. As the muffled sounds of battle reached his newly sensitized ears Harmony wondered where the so called Chosen Ones might be. He felt the power of the potion coursing through his system as it increased in potency and the Dark Lord knew that the time of the final confrontation was nearly at hand.
Turning away from the cage and its harsh reminders Harmony tested the air with his nose and moved off to follow a scent to its owner.


Jeshux had set up his men as blockades throughout the city. Dispersed in a crescent formation around the area of the gates the mercenaries held their positions in the streets, guarding the palace and inner city from Harmony’s forces as wave after wave of the enemy attacked and retreated like an organic replica of an ocean’s tides.
The flow of traffic through the mercenary perimeter was for the most part, one way. Thousands of men and women were allowed through checkpoints as soldiers of the realm marched out to engage Harmony’s troops in the cramped spaces of the wide city streets. Very few made the trip back inside. The mercenaries only allowed wounded and refugees from the occupied sectors of the city and unfortunately these people were few and far in between.
Jeshux was positioned atop a high roof in the heart of the war torn city. From his position he was able to view almost the entire city and coordinate his troops via electronic communication. It was from this eerie that he first spotted the stream of werewolves picking its way purposefully through the streets.
“We’ve got a problem,” Jeshux informed the soldier next to him, a mercenary that was acting as his second in command. “Get me McAriicoys on communications.”
The mercenary quickly passed the order to the com-man who began manipulating the controls of the communications relay. Within seconds the proper frequency was found and McAriicoys became audible over the speakers. The com-man handed the merc the transmitter and it was placed in Jeshux waiting hands.
“McAriicoys, this is Jeshux. Do you copy, over?”
“Jeshux, this is McAriicoys, over.” McAriicoys voice carried across the air in a burst of static and was accompanied by the sounds of intense fighting.
“McAriicoys, what’s your twenty?”
“Sector D.”
Jeshux had divided the city into four quadrants and designated each quadrant with a letter. The northwest and northeast quadrants were A and B, respectively. The southwest and southeast quadrants were sectors C and D. The palace was situated in the top most northern section of the city while the gates were located directly opposite in the southern most portion of the wall. The mercenaries currently held positions in the streets which formed a crescent that began in sector C and moved up into sectors A and B before descending into sector D. It was because of these blockades that Jeshux was able to quarantine the invading army in the southern third of the city where it was easily observable from his rooftop positioned near the palace side of the blockades deep in the southwest corner of sector B, ideally situated to view all four sectors.
Jeshux looked through a pair of binoculars and surveyed the progress the werewolves were making through the streets. The animals were highly organized, even for their kind, and traveled a path that was carrying them through sector C diagonally north into the northwest corner of sector D. Jeshux relayed this information to McAriicoys along with his concerns about such a force being allowed to maneuver so close to the blockade string.
“Roger that, they’re going to pass right by my position. Let us mop up our current mess and then we’ll move to intercept them. Don’t worry Jes, we’ll give the bastards a proper reception. One they won’t soon forget,” McAriicoys acknowledged.
“Ten four,” Jeshux said. “Keep me updated, Jeshux out.”
Jeshux passed off the transmitter and went back to scanning the city with his binoculars. The matter of the werewolves was temporarily forgotten now that it was in McAriicoys capable hands. McAriicoys was just like any other good leader, calm under pressure and the most in control when things were out of control. His usage of Jes instead of Jeshux or sir was the ultimate proof of this. McAriicoys was the only one in his life that Jeshux had ever heard or would even tolerate calling him Jes and its familiarity put him at ease and allowed him to focus on other matters of importance.
Jeshux paused in his three hundred and sixty degree sweep of the city and backtracked over to the northwestern part of sector A. He trained his binoculars on a point at the far west end of the Avenue of East and West- a wide boulevard that ran the full breath of the city, from east to west, and intersected the north/south Royal Avenue where it stopped directly in front of the palace- and fiddled with the adjustments until he was absolutely sure that the delicate instrument was fully focused. Sure enough his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him and Jeshux lowered the binoculars from his eyes and bowed his head in contemplation of what he had just seen.
“Damn,” he whispered.
“What was that sir?” the mercenary asked.
“I need to speak with General Kahill, right now!” Jeshux spoke up.
Correctly interpreting the urgency of the situation from the tone in the regent’s voice the transmitting microphone was placed in Jeshux hand as the general’s voice squawked over the speakers in less than three seconds.
“Yes, what is it?” the General demanded impatiently.
Jeshux ignored the man’s audacity and snapped into the microphone, “General Kahill, this is Commander General Jeshux DuTerriux Jules, Lord Regent of AnEerth and we have a serious problem here.” He reassessed the situation with his field glasses. “We have what appears to be a harashna open at the west end of the Avenue of East and West.”
“You have got to be joking,” Kahill scoffed.
“General, you’re an imbecile if you don’t take this seriously,” Jeshux said with a dangerous edge. “We’re in the middle of what very well could be the final battle of the longest war in AnEerth’s history and there is a HARASHNA open in the city! Can you comprehend what I’m telling you?” Jeshux was close to yelling his frustration at having to deal with a pompous dunderhead like General Kahill. Unfortunately, despite all of his faults, the General was a brilliant strategist and more than capable in his duties.
“Yes,” Kahill answered without hesitation. All of the confrontation left his voice as he asked, “What do you propose we do about it?”
Relief flooded through Jeshux. Kahill was willing to cooperate and that was good because the last thing he needed was to have to fight the men in his command as well as the enemy. “There’s not much we can do about the harashna directly,” he said. “But I want you to prepare the palace defenses immediately because I can guarantee that we’re definitely not going to like whatever comes through it.”
“As you wish,” General Kahill acquiesced. “Is there anything special that you’d like done?”
Jeshux answered on a hunch, “Make sure that everyone’s prepared to face brown and green robes.”
“You think it will be the Archmagi.” It was less a question than a statement.
“Precisely,” Jeshux confirmed. “You have to understand what Florencii has done to those people. The Gonders in this state of necromancy are truly a force to be reckoned with.
“I understand,” the General assured him.
“Good,” Jeshux said. “I’m also going to send up some mercs to blockade the streets around the palace. I want them positioned in a fashion similar to the blockades I’ve set up here. I also want the roofs and attics of every building in the surrounding area manned by as many snipers as can be comfortably stationed.”
“Understood,” You could almost hear the nod in Kahill’s voice. “What’s the harashna doing now?”
“Just looking pretty,” Jeshux said as he looked through the binoculars again. “But I suggest you get some men watching it ASAP so that you know the moment something happens.”
“Ten four,” Kahill acknowledged. “I’ll keep you updated, Kahill out.” And with that the communications relay went dead.
Jeshux passed off the transmitting microphone and took one last look at the rainbow portal swirling off in the distance before he returned his attention to the rest of the ailing city.


Candlelite kept his rifle at the ready, although he was not given much opportunity to use it. He let the werewolves range freely while he marched somewhere in their middle. There were so many of them now that Candlelite had the sensation that he was swimming in a river that flowed through the streets. The first two werewolves that he had encountered stayed close to either side of him and acted as a buffer between him and their brethren. Any of the enemy that even came close was taken care of with the quickness by Candlelite’s new friends.
Candlelite was struck by the variety among the beasts. They ranged in size and shape much as people did and their fur displayed a remarkable array of tints and colors, lengths and thickness. While the creatures were definitely more humanoid than wolf in body structure their decidedly more feral nature was easily distinguished by the fact that the werewolves were more inclined to lope along on all fours and saved coming into a two legged stance for when they grappled with their prey. Candlelite also noticed that it was this wild animal characteristic about them that separated them from him. For while their physical similarities were much the same Candlelite was definitely cast from a larger mold and retained many more of his human characteristics after his transformation. He also noted that the werewolves also did not heal the way that he and Absinthe did, as a few of the beasts limped along nursing injuries long after they would have ceased to bother him. One thing Candlelite became certain of was that the werewolves were positively more intelligent than any other of the canine or lupine species. They seemed to have almost no trouble understanding any of his spoken commands and it was as if the amber wolf that he wore did not make it so that the werewolves understood what he was saying so much as it made them more inclined to obey the intention behind words that he spoke.
The head of the lupine column turned a corner ahead of him and Candlelite heard the vvvwhump-vvvwhump of plasma rifles followed by a mercenary war rally. As he ran toward the corner he knew the one thing he had been dreading had finally happened, his werewolves had run into friendly fire. Cursing his lack of communications capability Candlelite pushed his way through the throng of