into sweetness, and when they fed it love, it did not fade. William grew in stature among the court of Atilta. His victory over the Spanish was brilliant, but he did not grow dull with authority. He won every battle and made no excuses. At length, he was named Admiral of the entire navy.
There was another young man who also grew quickly into power, however. Gylain was born into the highest level of wealth and power, as the Duke of the Lion’s Mane. With beauty and nobility, little worth is needed for advancement, and Gylain possessed both. Yet he was also a brilliant, spirited man. He burned in the service of the king, just as he later burned to overthrow him. He was named General of the entire army at the same time William became Admiral.
They first met in a council of war, called to discuss the Viking invasions to the north. William came with a powerful stride, as did Gylain, and from the first they felt an affection for each other. While other men were weak and prostrate before the King, Gylain and William were equal. Yet Gylain envied him in one thing: the love of William’s wife was still passionate, for they were not together enough for it to grow cool.
The council lasted through the night. The next day they parted: William for the seas, and Gylain for the land. William went to confront the Viking fleet and destroy the threat before it could land. On his journey, however, Gylain first met Casandra, and was charmed by her surpassing beauty. He was accustomed to satisfying his desires and struggled with his lust for her. Yet it grew within him – by divine dictate, as he said – until it consumed his conscience. He flamed within and it manifested itself in his sword.
Casandra’slove, meanwhile, had evolved into bitterness. In her loneliness, she cursed William. She desired him, but he was not to be had. She gave herself to him, but he was not there to receive her. Hate is but the after taste of love. And she hated William.
On the northern coasts, William was wrecked against the shore. Whatever men survived joined Gylain’s army. Yet the army had also been beaten back and was reduced to a hundred men – a hundred hard and desperate men, left to defend their country. The Vikings were almost two thousand strong.
The beaches of northern Atilta were flat and sandy, stretching inland for half a mile. There, however, they came against a mountain range whose precipices could not be passed. On either side the beach stretched for a hundred miles, and could not be left but through a single, narrow pass: the Pass of the Forest. It led directly into the heart of the forest that covered the rest of the island. The pass itself was ten feet across, with cliffs rising thousands of feet on either side. The sun could only penetrate to the bottom for two minutes at high noon. At any other angle, the cliffs would not let it come down and the pass below was dark.
Gylain and William embraced at the foot of the cliffs, their backs in the darkness and their faces in the light. Yet Gylain had given himself to lust. He did not combat it because he did not desire to. Though he could have done anything, he did not want to do it.
“The curse of God!” Gylain whispered to himself as he embraced William. “I cannot do otherwise than what I desire, and it is God who shapes those desires. I am damned, now. But I do not care – I will have what I will have.”
Gylain fell back into the darkness to hide his scowling face.
“Come,” he said, “We will take them in the pass.”
They hid in the center of the pass and waited in the darkness. They could hear the heavy breathing of the approaching Vikings, but stalked backwards – remaining always in front of them. The Vikings did not know they were near.
Then, in a flash of brilliance, the sun came over the cliffs far above and shone into the pass. The light was as great as the darkness had been. The Atiltians attacked, spreading themselves over the narrow pass and charging down the surprised Vikings, who turned and ran to the beaches. Yet Gylain chased after them, and his heart boiled within him. He used the power of his lust to fight the Vikings. No one could not withstand it.
“Destroy me now, God,” he muttered as his sword flew forward on its own accord. “Destroy me now, or else I will destroy you. I will have Casandra!”
The Vikings were routed and banished forever to their icy homes. The Atiltian army and navy returned to Eden amidst a great celebration. The empire was saved, as was western civilization, for good or ill. William was dispatched to rebuild the navy, and Gylain paraded through the streets as a hero.
Casandra’s passion, meanwhile, was fully converted to a passion of hatred. She met Gylain in the secret of the night and they plotted to overthrow the king. Casandra hated the man who took her husband and Gylain the man who had power over him. But Gylain was discovered and placed in the city jail. The jailers, however, were Gylain’s followers. They released him and he escaped to Casandra’s chamber.
Fate played their side in the matter, for Casandra’s father died, and she became queen of Saxony. The king did not suspect her, but held a banquet in her honor. Gylain came disguised as her handmaiden, sitting opposite the king and queen. Then, in the middle of the feast, he sprang forward and slew the king, while one of his men did the same to the queen. The castle guards sprang upon them, but Gylain had positioned his own men around him. It was a desperate struggle. Alfonzo of Melborough escaped with the prince, but the rest of the castle was taken. Casandra hated William so much that she imprisoned her own daughter, hoping to bring pain to her husband.
William, however, did not know what had happened and returned to the city. He was arrested by the new king’s army as he left the safety of his fleet and taken to the top room of Castle Plantagenet. The guards secured him to a post – his arms apart and his back open to the air – then left, as Casandra and Gylain came in.
“What is this, my love?” William asked, concealing his emotions. “What is this cruel joke?”
“I do not jest, William. I loved you long ago, but I have since grown to despise you.”
William looked to his friend Gylain for comfort, but there was none to be had in him. He had been overtaken by his lust and was no longer a man, but a beast. His lusts were fulfilled yet he was not satisfied. So he looked deeper into evil, where there is no satisfaction to be had.
“This is the end, friend,” and he walked behind William, out of his view.
Casandra stood in front of William. She grabbed a whip from the table beside her. She slashed him across the face. He did not wince at the physical pain, but could not hold himself through the spiritual.
“Why have you forsaken me?” he said through his tears.
“Was I not forsaken first?”
Gylain began to scourge William’s back with a glass-tipped whip. His flesh was flayed away piece by bloody piece. Yet William did not feel the pain of this, for his spirit had died within him. His eyes grew emotionless; his face as the face of the dead. He said nothing but stared at Casandra with the innocence of a child. He did not perceive what happened to him. He did not understand.
When the evil was complete they left William alone in the upper room of the tower. Casandra saw the wrong she had done and fled to Saxony with her youngest daughter, Cybele. She could not return to William, yet that ancient love within her rejected Gylain. So she faded away to the land of her youth and was no more. Gylain, however, hardened his heart against sorrow and numbed his conscience with ever greater evils.
William, meanwhile, was rescued by Erwin Meredith. The newly formed rebellion took him to the Western Marches, where William was returned to health in Milada’s castle. The forest could not be crossed by an army and the navy had been destroyed and deserted. But Gylain pushed to rebuild it and, when it was ready, sent it after them. The Battle of Thunder Bay followed: William was captured, but the fledging navy was taken by the rebellion.
William Stuart was taken into exile by Nicholas Montague, traveling the world on a ship of torture. But then, in a daring action, the Admiral took over the ship, with the help of his fellow prisoner Barnes Griffith. They turned course to Atilta. On the way the winds beset them, wrecking them on the African coast. Without tools, it took years to rebuild the ship. But William led them on, his eyes always smoldering for revenge. At last, he had returned to take it.
“Admiral!” a voice cried through the noise of the storm, “Admiral!”
The old man’s eyes opened, as if awoken from a deep slumber.
“What is it, Barnes?” he asked with an air of sorrow.
“Sir, Gylain’s fleet has begun besieging us. Their arrows barely miss our stern: we will soon be in range.”
“It is time,” the Admiral sighed deeply with a distracted countenance. “It is time that I fought Gylain to the death.”
“And your daughter, Cybele?” Barnes asked with an air of worry.
The old man laid his weather-beaten hand upon the young man’s shoulder, with a look in his eyes that
