Knight of the Blue Surcoat - IN EDITING HELL - SLOW

Chapter XX: A Game of Souls

Orlando wondered what his father was thinking, if Arthur had notified the king of his son's disappearance. King Gustavus still had Jason and Heracles, the former being his heir. Gustavus wouldn't weep or show concern. Perhaps he'd stroke his beard and sigh. Jason and Heracles might laugh or scoff. As the months turned to years, Heracles might offer to seek him out. Gustavus would deny him, not wanting to lose another son.

Orlando rattled his chains as he tried to make his position more comfortable. It was humid in the hole, oppressive and heavy. Orlando sighed and scuffed his toes in the muck. Even if one of his brothers elected to come after him (not likely), it was hopeless. No one could find him, the witch had said.

Even if they could find me here, I couldn't speak to them. Orlando licked his dry lips and shifted again. Despite the moisture, he hadn't had a drink in days. Or food, for that matter. If not for his dreams, he might have thought his captors had forgotten him, too.

Orlando's stomach rumbled and he grit his teeth. An eternity of this was more than he could bear thinking about. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly. If sleep were the only escape from the darkness, then he would sleep and dream.

Nevertheless, it was hours later before sleep claimed him again. The dreams rushed in, confused and troubled, until finally, the last dream sharpened into a vivid picture.

This time, Orlando descended from the clouds on the winged Pegasus. Rising from Hades to meet him was a giant clad only in lion skin. The giant rode a scarlet serpent, the beast's bloody tongue lolling and leathery wings flapping.

Orlando collided with the rider in the sky, driving his spear into the loathsome snake. Thunder was their meeting, lightning the sparking of their swords as they chased past the stars in pursuit.

Orlando was tiring in spite of dream strength. Blood ran from his body and his opponents', and Orlando felt his arms giving way. He swept past the serpent and leapt on its back. The giant hacked at him, but Orlando was quicker. He thrust his sword into the giant's shoulder, knocking him loose from the serpent. All three plummeted from the sky, a great flaming angel crashing into hell.

Orlando smashed into the ground, rolling down a steep slope. His breath was gone, and he felt his armor crushing the life out of him. A foot stopped him with a jerk and kicked him over.

Orlando gazed through dizzy eyes at the looming figure. It wavered and split into three, then five tall men. The man (men) cleared his (or their) throat, and the sound was like rocks tumbling together. "Who are you, knight, that you would enter my domain?"

Orlando gasped, but he couldn't speak. The tall man stomped once on his chest, making Orlando wretch. He gagged and coughed before finding his voice. "Orlando of Thessaly. But who are you?"

"Hades will suffice, though I have more names and faces than you could fathom. State your crime."

Orlando grimaced in both puzzlement and pain. His chest felt like it was on fire. "I don't know what you mean. Am I dead?"

"You fell from the sky, sent to my court for judgment." The tall man beckoned to another figure. "Weigh his heart in the balance; see if he lies."

Orlando recoiled in horror. The creature had the body of a man, bare-chested and glistening with muscles, but the head and shoulders of a black jackal. The beast's turquoise eyes were strangely flat, as if fashioned from tile.

"Who are you?" gasped the prince.

The flat eyes rolled and the jackal head bent close. "I am the devourer of oath breakers and dishonest men. I am the eater of hearts who must consume wickedness."