colossus—the Destructor.
The Destructor stooped to enter the chamber. With a wave of his finger, the emperor fairly flew into his seat, silent and cowering. He glanced at the giant, saying simply, “The Praetorian is mine.”
Johaan slunk to the shadow of the door like a beaten dog.
Again, Tarion urged, “Diocletian do it now!”
“Silence!”
Tarion’s mouth snapped painfully shut. Yet he struggled up, holding his maimed arm, glaring at the Destructor. The emperor was not so stout of heart or mind. He dove from his chair to the feet of the Destructor.
“Mercy Dread Lord !” cried Diocletian, prostrating himself before the colossus. “The Imperium will submit to you. You have my fealty, only spare us!”
Despite his horrible wound, Tarion staggered over and clutched the emperor with his one good hand, dragging Diocletian to his feet. “You cannot sell the Imperium! Better to let it die than to live in servile squalor! Stand and face our enemy; you are the Emperor of the Imperium!”
Minerva withstood the horror of the Destructor, standing next to her father. Baruk and Ancenar stepped up as well, facing their doom. The e mperor nodded and he stood, steadied by the Praetorian and his daughter.
“Well said, Tarion Praetorian, Captain of Men,” growled the Destructor. He looked down on them from indomitable heights. “It is fitting that I have here the greatest of men , dwarves and elves—the last of the free peoples—the last to defy me!”
Naugrathur the Destructor lifted his arms as if he would envelope them, saying, “My dominion is nigh! It will be eternal; it will be all encompassing. Though you each demand my admiration, it is over. The Gods have fallen. The Imperium has crumbled. The elves are in exile. The dwarves are consumed. Therefore, I give you a choice. You may become part of my glory, part of my dominion, or you will be naught. Choose between oblivion and my service!”
“I serve the Imperium!” Tarion exclaimed. “I will never serve you, Dread Lord, be certain of that.”
The Destructor’s eyes flashed in anger and his voice dripped with searing contempt, “Well have you served your emperor, but how well has that service been repaid, Tarion Praetorian, General of the Legions?”
He laughed , reading Tarion’s pain as if it were a history. Tarion felt as if a mountainside collapsed upon him. “For your unfailing valor that very emperor stripped you of your name, your lands and your inheritance, bequeathing you the vestiges of his legions and an extinct title in exchange! He took away your elven bride and then renounced the hand of his daughter, aye Tarion; I know it all well enough.”
His molten eyes narrowed and he reached beneath his robes to withdraw a great golden goblet set with many gems. He held it out to Tarion. “Now realize your future in my dominion. Drink your oath to me and you will be the Overlord of Men, the General of the Naug-zum. I shall return your elven princess to you; aye, even Diocletian’s brave daughter. Your revenge upon the emperor will be complete!”
Tarion bowed his head, saying, “You honor me Dread Lord.” Yet he struck the goblet with his hand, knocking it away. “I am the Praetorian, Dread Lord, like my father before me! I will not betray my emperor or the Imperium I’ve defended all these years.”
“Damn you then!” The Destructor lifted Tarion from the floor with the nail of a single finger. “What to do with such honorable obstinacy?”
Through clenched teeth the Praetorian said, “With all due respect, there’s nothing further you can do to me Dread Lord. Soon, I shall be dead. I’ll be spared the pain of watching my Imperium perish!”
“Not so,” the Destructor laughed and his eyes glowed in evil satisfaction. “The Imperium has lived only so long through your valor and so it shall not live without you. Praetorian, I curse you with life until your Imperium has perished before your eyes ! You will see every death throe;
The Destructor stooped to enter the chamber. With a wave of his finger, the emperor fairly flew into his seat, silent and cowering. He glanced at the giant, saying simply, “The Praetorian is mine.”
Johaan slunk to the shadow of the door like a beaten dog.
Again, Tarion urged, “Diocletian do it now!”
“Silence!”
Tarion’s mouth snapped painfully shut. Yet he struggled up, holding his maimed arm, glaring at the Destructor. The emperor was not so stout of heart or mind. He dove from his chair to the feet of the Destructor.
“Mercy Dread Lord !” cried Diocletian, prostrating himself before the colossus. “The Imperium will submit to you. You have my fealty, only spare us!”
Despite his horrible wound, Tarion staggered over and clutched the emperor with his one good hand, dragging Diocletian to his feet. “You cannot sell the Imperium! Better to let it die than to live in servile squalor! Stand and face our enemy; you are the Emperor of the Imperium!”
Minerva withstood the horror of the Destructor, standing next to her father. Baruk and Ancenar stepped up as well, facing their doom. The e mperor nodded and he stood, steadied by the Praetorian and his daughter.
“Well said, Tarion Praetorian, Captain of Men,” growled the Destructor. He looked down on them from indomitable heights. “It is fitting that I have here the greatest of men , dwarves and elves—the last of the free peoples—the last to defy me!”
Naugrathur the Destructor lifted his arms as if he would envelope them, saying, “My dominion is nigh! It will be eternal; it will be all encompassing. Though you each demand my admiration, it is over. The Gods have fallen. The Imperium has crumbled. The elves are in exile. The dwarves are consumed. Therefore, I give you a choice. You may become part of my glory, part of my dominion, or you will be naught. Choose between oblivion and my service!”
“I serve the Imperium!” Tarion exclaimed. “I will never serve you, Dread Lord, be certain of that.”
The Destructor’s eyes flashed in anger and his voice dripped with searing contempt, “Well have you served your emperor, but how well has that service been repaid, Tarion Praetorian, General of the Legions?”
He laughed , reading Tarion’s pain as if it were a history. Tarion felt as if a mountainside collapsed upon him. “For your unfailing valor that very emperor stripped you of your name, your lands and your inheritance, bequeathing you the vestiges of his legions and an extinct title in exchange! He took away your elven bride and then renounced the hand of his daughter, aye Tarion; I know it all well enough.”
His molten eyes narrowed and he reached beneath his robes to withdraw a great golden goblet set with many gems. He held it out to Tarion. “Now realize your future in my dominion. Drink your oath to me and you will be the Overlord of Men, the General of the Naug-zum. I shall return your elven princess to you; aye, even Diocletian’s brave daughter. Your revenge upon the emperor will be complete!”
Tarion bowed his head, saying, “You honor me Dread Lord.” Yet he struck the goblet with his hand, knocking it away. “I am the Praetorian, Dread Lord, like my father before me! I will not betray my emperor or the Imperium I’ve defended all these years.”
“Damn you then!” The Destructor lifted Tarion from the floor with the nail of a single finger. “What to do with such honorable obstinacy?”
Through clenched teeth the Praetorian said, “With all due respect, there’s nothing further you can do to me Dread Lord. Soon, I shall be dead. I’ll be spared the pain of watching my Imperium perish!”
“Not so,” the Destructor laughed and his eyes glowed in evil satisfaction. “The Imperium has lived only so long through your valor and so it shall not live without you. Praetorian, I curse you with life until your Imperium has perished before your eyes ! You will see every death throe;
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