Captain Franco grabbed the wheel to steer the zeppelin clear of the approaching thunderheads. They had been flying for over nine hours and were close to their destination. Bad weather appeared on the horizon, threatening the craft, and Captain Franco knew he would need to navigate around the storm.
It would add time to the journey, and time was the one thing that Captain Franco did not have.
He had been summoned to the palace earlier that morning. He had been briefed on the mission by one of the royal advisers and told to bring back the girl with a rare healing skill and her accomplice who had attacked the emperor. He had been ordered not to harm either of them, and if he failed then he would die, along with all of his crew. The captain was not a man to ignore such a challenge.
They flew through the storm. The clouds parted as they neared the palace and Captain Franco steered the zeppelin to a landing in the courtyard, using his skills to land it perfectly. The engines were cut, and the crew lowered the ladder.
The captain climbed down. He saw several guards running towards him, and he stepped aside to let them pass, although he noted that none of them carried their usual weapons. A young girl ran out to meet him.
“Is that you, father?” she said, running up to him. She was wearing a robe of deep red silk. Her face was very pale and she seemed more like a ghost than a living creature. “It is so good to see you!”
“And you,” he replied.
“Are we going home?” she asked.
“Yes, little one.”
“Oh, that is wonderful!” She looked at the soldiers behind Captain Franco, and he saw her eyes widen with surprise. “What happened to those men?”
“They were killed.”
“Why?”
“The emperor has need of their talents.”
“But… but…”
Captain Franco felt sorry for her. He did not like her father, but even he could not help feeling sympathy for this child who had been brought up in such terrible times.
“Do not worry,” said Captain Franco, putting his arm around her shoulder. “You will be safe now.”
“Will we be safe?” she asked him. “I do not understand these things.”
“You will be safe.”
“And my mother? What of my mother?”
“Your mother has already returned to your grandmother’s house, and I have come to take you there.”
“Why are you here?”
“To take you away from this terrible place.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home.”
“I do not want to go.”
“It is what I have been ordered to do.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I love you, and I wish to be with you.”
The girl looked at him. She put her hand on his cheek, then leaned forward and kissed him. “I love you too.”
In a room deep beneath the palace of Zanzibar, the emperor held court. He stood on a raised dais, watching the assembled nobles of the empire kneel before him. His clothes were elegant, and his face was severe. He was not tall, but his bearing was so powerful that he seemed much taller than he really was. In his left hand, he gripped the sceptre, the symbol of his power, while his right hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
On a table before him was a book of dark leather. It was closed, and he opened it slowly and looked at the pages. On each page was an engraving of a man who wore the symbol of a skull over his heart. He read the inscription that was written in gold leaf:
We are the dead who serve our emperor. We have died so that our children might live in peace, and we have earned our place here in the pages of history. We are the guardians of this empire, and our souls will watch over this land for eternity. We do not need to breathe, but we do need sleep, and every night our emperor opens our book and we sleep inside it. The soul of our emperor is bound to us, and we shall never leave this land. When our emperor dies, our souls will enter the book and then we shall rise again, to protect him, and we shall never die again.
The emperor looked up from the book. “My brothers,” he said, “my sister, my loyal subjects. It has been a long time since I last gathered you here. The empire has been in turmoil for far too long. We have faced a great threat from the West, an enemy who has sworn vengeance on our country.” He paused, allowing the fear and concern in the chamber to rise. “The Emperor of France is coming to kill me and my children,” he told them. “He will do this with the aid of an evil witch and a creature of darkness that no man should ever encounter.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The Emperor of France is coming for me, my family, my empire. But I am not afraid. I have you all here. You have served me well for many years, and I will not forget you in this dark hour. If I fall then you will carry on the empire that I have built.”
There was silence in the chamber, except for the soft clinking of a glass being raised and placed on a table. The emperor looked down at it and saw the contents of the glass: a dark red liquid. He reached out and took it from the table, lifting it to his lips. He drank deeply, then he replaced the glass on the table and looked at the gathered nobles. “If I fall,” he said quietly, “then I will have made you all rich.” He turned his head slightly and looked at one of his advisors who was standing by a side door. “Do not allow anyone in, until I give the word.” He looked at the rest of his subjects. “And if you do not wish to die for me, then I advise you to leave now. Go to your homes. There are other duties awaiting you in the city. You can be sure that if you are here then your name will be added to the book.”
He stepped down from the dais and walked back to his throne room where his guards were waiting. As he walked through the room, no one moved to follow him. The emperor sat on his throne and waited for the sounds of movement and conversation to die away before he spoke again. When he was certain that everyone was still listening to him, he told them what they all already knew. “We must find a way to defeat him,” he said. “I have sent messengers to my agents in France, but they will not arrive in time, and even if they did they might not be able to stop him. We are going to need more than just magic.” He looked out at his gathered nobles. “I want a list of every man who could fight as a warrior, every man who knows how to use a bow, every man who could wield a spear or an axe or a sword,” he told them. “I want every man in the city who can fight to gather here, and I want you to choose two thousand of them to form an army. They must be ready within the next week, ready for battle. And I want them equipped properly. Get every weapon you can find, and every man should be equipped as a soldier. When you have selected them, take them to my palace where they will await orders. They will be my army, and I shall lead them into battle against our greatest enemy. And if they fall then we will fight again.” He paused. “Now leave me.”
As they left the throne room, Captain Franco heard the sound of a bell tolling. It was the bell of death, the call to war.