The Guardians Chronicles: The Sacrifice

By Ann H Barlow

All is not what it seems as Sahara is about to discover when she tries to find out why Go’el is blocking her communication with Amara.

Go’el’s new found power has changed the young Guardian, but not in the way that was foreseen in the ancient scrolls. Romero and Wu Xiong are first to be alerted to the new danger and come together in a bid to discover the true meaning of the scrolls that depicted Go’el as becoming the most powerful being in the Universe. Wu Xiong brings in the assistance of an Iranian ancient language expert to assist and is dismayed to find that the parchment was one of a pair.

While Amara tries to settle in Oman, Go’el’s mother Cassandra plots with Klaus to open the casks and release Barak. While unbeknown to Go’el, Barak is in the background trying desperately to take hold of the power his son now possesses. Things take a turn for the worst as Go’el fights to keep his identity as the power within him starts to drown him.

Meanwhile Barak continues to cause mayhem, this time in Romero’s back yard. He orchestrates a string of terrorists to blow up three prime targets in London that leaves half the city destroyed while Sahara tries desperately to interpret the second scroll and find a way to save Go’el.

Things get so desperate that Romero finds he must once again ask Phenomie to intervene, knowing the sacrifice that he will have to be made if she does agree to step in and stop Barak becoming the most powerful being in the Universe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ann H Barlow
• Release date: Dec 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311078728

Ann H Barlow

Ann Henrietta Barlow was born in Dumfries, Scotland and moved to England at the age of 14.She has traveled extensively and has become familiar with many different cultures.Ann currently lives between Malta and the UK with her husband Guy.

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The Guardians Chronicles

The Guardians Chronicles

The Sacrifice

Ann H Barlow

Copyright 2014 by Ann H Barlow

Smashwords Edition

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ISBN: 9781311078728

The book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or events is entirely coincidental.

Nightjar Publishing

Editor: Cathy Speight

Web Design and artwork – Margaret Mairs http://www.margueritewebdesign.co.uk/

http://www.theguardianschronicles.com

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.

Mahatma Ghandi (1869 – 1948)

For my brothers and sisters and their partners.

Margie & Billy, Agnes & Colin, Harry & Anita, Joe, Paul & Michelle, Steven & Cheryl, Lorna & Daniel and Gary & Julie.

And to my own family who make my life the happy existence it has become.

A special mention for our 2 new delightful baby grandsons Sam and Elliot.

My husband, Guy, my partner through this journey and for my son, Simon, stepdaughters, Tabatha, Marina, and Olivia, and my beautiful granddaughter, Sophia.

Contents

1. The Council

2. Visiting Amara

3. The Glint of an Eye

4. Oman

5. Persia Palace

6. The Tablets

7. Restless

8. Surveillance

9. Sightseeing

10 Something Amiss

11. The Museum

12. Covent Garden

13. Whispers

14. Cairo

15. Disenchanted

16. The Reunion

17. Another Discovery

18. The Space Auditorium

19. A Change of Plans

20. Reflection

21. Taking Credit

22. Pulling Out

23. Translation

24. The Threat

25. The Betrayal

26. Suspicion

27. London’s Burning

28. To Catch a Spy

29. Fleeing Oman

30. The Spell

31. The Star

32. Amara’s Decision

33. The Plea

34. The Gathering

35. Amara’s Return to Oman

36. Sahara’s Respite

37. The Visitor

38. An Act of War

39. The Key

40. Torment

41. Support

42. The Exchange

43. Help is at Hand

44. Breaking Point

45. Breathing Fire

46. Out of Time

47. The Spectators

48. The Stand

49. The Sacrifice

50. A Celebration

51. Adoration

About the Author

Other Works

The Guardians Chronicles

The Sacrifice

Ann H Barlow

1 - The Council

The planetoid structure known as Crelexton Mesa and home to the Guardians is the only mass in the universe that moves at will. When in a static state, Crelexton Mesa rests in space while the planets, where it is stationed, shift their customary orbit adequately to accommodate the temporary mass. Suns, stars, moons, planets and solar systems change their course to avoid collision with the planetoid while it resides amongst them.

Such relocations have no adverse effect on the Guardians as they adapt readily to new atmospheric conditions, and even the most basic routine goes undisturbed as they moved through time and space to new and predetermined locations, an infrequent event that occurs when a galaxy is about to implode or die out.

~~~

Phenomie dismissed her ladies-in-waiting and they stood back, her mind was elsewhere and she was in no mood to be fussed over. It seemed superficial given the reason for her address. She walked towards the mirror and adjusted the collar of her robe. Her long jet-black hair trailed behind her and rested on the train of her magnificent purple gown. Her heart felt heavy as she reflected on the enormity of the task in hand, and, as a result, her dark-gold almond-shaped eyes lacked their usual lustre. Her finely honed feline features looked surreal against her flawless alabaster skin, a mark of beauty within her culture, but she took no pleasure in the image that confronted her. Instead of enjoying the ritual of dressing for the event as she normally would, Phenomie was more concerned with her address to the Council of her peers. It was a job she did not look forward to.

It worried her how her recommendations would be received by her Chancellor, who was set to follow her when she gave up office, and his supporters. With the end of her term as leader so close at hand, it had become difficult to govern. Even those on whom she had relied were afraid of going against her successor as it was well known his ethics left a lot to be desired.

Be warned, gentlemen, if we don’t act, the power Go’el thinks he can contain will mean the end of all that we have taken for granted.

Phenomie stood silently before her Council in the Space Auditorium, a vast open arena situated in the centre of Crelexton Mesa as the house pondered her words. She could do no more than advise them of the dire consequences if the Council refused to act, and Phenomie had done her utmost to persuade her peers to take the initiative and intervene. However, though they gave her the opportunity to put forward her argument, they remained resolute that the inhabitants of the planet Earth should sort out their own affairs. After what had taken place due to their prior interference, they felt there was justification. Or perhaps, they were more concerned that to give their consent would not be in their interest since she would no longer be their leader in the very near future they might feel it in their best interests to side with the Chancellor.

Whatever their reasons, Phenomie acknowledged that, under the Galactic Covenant, a treaty she was honour-bound to protect, the Council refrained from meddling in the affairs of any planet unless that planet directly threatened Crelexton Mesa, a highly unlikely event, especially in the case of the planet in question. In other solar systems, the inhabitants of many of the populated planets were billions of years old and infinitely more advanced than on Earth, but they were still no match for the Guardians.

On Earth, as on any other planet, the elected rulers were expected to maintain law and order, although they could expect assistance from the Guardians whenever an imbalance of power on the planet threatened the civilisation. In the case of Earth, due to Barak’s darkness, intervention had been called on several times, and had Romero not given up his elected position on the Council so gallantly to right what he saw as an error on his part, the necessity of the Council to intervene might have been more frequent.

Romero made an unexpected sacrifice, and though she never fully understood his decision, Phenomie found his gesture extremely admirable. There were few, if any, who would have relinquished so much for the human race or for their own kind had they been pressed to make a choice.

Drafted billions of years ago, long before man walked the earth, the Galactic Covenant protected every planet’s right to self-govern. This decree had helped to maintain peace—or to be more precise, galactic peace, for there had been many conflicts on various planets—for the one hundred thousand years of Phenomie's reign. It made her heart heavy to think that everything she had worked so hard to accomplish was now under threat by what had just transpired on this small planet in such a faraway solar system.

As the High Priestess of the Council of Guardians and defender of the Galactic Covenant, she knew the Council had already exceeded its authority when it sanctioned the seed of light that had ultimately resulted in Amara’s birth to be implanted in a human. But, in her opinion, the options had been limited, and she had acted in the best interest of the planet, given the alternative. The irony that things had taken an unforeseen direction when she attempted to do what she believed to be just hadn’t been overlooked. Her actions hadn’t only resulted in the creation of Amara, but also meant she had become almost as powerful as a Guardian. With no Guardian blood running through her veins, her transformation had been widely perceived as a miracle, and such phenomena were enough to make any intelligent being nervous. Not one among them had envisaged that Sahara Driver, a human of such unremarkable birthright, would evolve as she had. Only Phenomie had understood the purity of her bloodline, although she hadn’t fully appreciated what it might have meant at the time. There were also the two half-breeds: one whose power exceeded that of any Council member even before he had inherited his father’s power. He had become infinitely more formidable than any of them. Now, as a direct result of her intervention, Go’el was a threat to them all.

Only Phenomie, who wore the ring of power that passed from leader to leader, would be any match for Go’el. The royal emblem she would soon pass to the Chancellor gave immeasurable power to its keeper. She could feel Achoris eyeing it jealously when she had the misfortune to have to speak with him, and she felt afraid of how it would be used once she passed the ring on to him.

Chancellor Achoris had opposed the decision to allow the seed to be implanted in Sahara and didn’t hide his anger when the Council outvoted him. It hadn’t even been a close call; it was unanimous, apart from the Chancellor’s vote and those of a dozen of his closest allies.

As distasteful as she found him, Achoris would soon replace her. He, like Barak, thrived on chaos, but Achoris had far more cunning than Barak, which made him all the more dangerous. Achoris never overstepped the boundaries of the law and used his own interpretation, which he defended with the aid of some of the best legal minds on the Council. His opposition of the Herminians swung the support he needed to gain enough votes to ensure his election. She had underestimated the resentment many of her kind harboured when she allowed Garveron to sit on the Council with them, in the knowledge he had had Dromanta killed: the first Guardian to have lost his life other than by his own will.

Dromanta had broken the Universal Covenant through his interference in the politics of Herminia and by supporting the motion to remove Garveron from the throne in favour of his eldest child, Princess Taria, the daughter of Garveron by his first wife, Algerina. Algerina was furious at being put aside to accommodate her husband's desire to sire a son and even more angry when he succeeded. According to Herminian law, the first legitimate son was the legal successor. Algerina’s ambition to secure the throne for her own bloodline, which consisted only of daughters, brought about Princess Taria’s downfall.

The Herminians had developed a technology that enabled them to destroy a Guardian using the obliterumanim element, a destructive and volatile metal, which, when fired at great speed, exploded inside its target and created so much energy, it could destroy everything in its wake. A Guardian could reduce their mass to sub-atomic particles, but even these tiny particles were not small enough or were able to travel fast enough to escape its path.

It was partly due to that power the Herminians and their greatest allies, the Grobulus, now sat on the Council. But before they took their seat, they had to be duly elected as representatives of the populated planets, more commonly known within the Council as populates. Fortunately, the weapons couldn’t be produced en masse, as the energy that enabled them to break down the matter of the superhuman race could, up until then, only be found on the sole volcanic region of Herminia. The execution of a Guardian was an unprecedented act, and until the creation of the weapon, there had been no need for legislation to be laid down for such an eventuality, as it had not been possible to commit such an act until the weapon existed.

The ruling to produce the weapon had been made on Herminia, and the Council of Guardians hadn’t been consulted, as was the case with the execution of Dromanta. In truth, Phenomie applauded Gavernon’s action. She didn’t agree with the manufacture of weapons which could be used against her race, but she had to agree it was a courageous attempt to stave off such a disaster on his planet. The outcome was far from popular with his people—for, along with Dromanta, he had executed his own daughter—but his action served its purpose to prevent further bloodshed. He would have executed Algerina at the same time, but he preferred to make her suffer for her sins.

Achoris's reign was most likely to result in a war of epic proportions. But there was a more dangerous threat to peace. If she failed to succeed, there would be no one left who could ensure the continuance of the Council, without whom each planet that sustained life in the galaxy would be a law unto themselves, and havoc would ensue. She found their irresolution tiresome. At the start of her reign, it would have been easy to sway them to her way of thinking. But there were few amongst them who wished to take a stand—not when it meant alienating Achoris and his sycophants, who vied for his favour and ultimately power, unwilling to stand up in case it cost them the chance of a place on the Council with their soon-to-be leader.

Her reign as High Priestess was almost over, and she was glad her public duty was about to end. But before it did, she wanted the issue with Go’el resolved. It had to be. If they were foolish enough to let the situation continue, the prophecy the others had doubted might come to pass would bring forth a being of such power and evil that it could not be stopped. So far, the prophecy had been unnervingly accurate, and Phenomie was unwilling to take the risk that it might happen, even if it meant war.

The alternative was unthinkable.

2 - Visiting Amara

Paul buried his head under the pillow as Sahara pulled the duvet to the bottom of the bed. She smacked his firm, muscular buttocks playfully. Get up. We have to go, or we’ll miss the flight.

Three hours’ sleep may be enough for you but not for a mere human like me. He stretched out in the king-sized bed and yawned, but instead of getting up as he knew he should do given they were short of time, he lay on his side and watched Sahara as she rushed around the room in her underwear.

Really? Well, you should have thought about that last night, she said, teasingly, while she threw him a clean towel that landed by the side of his face.

He eyed the towel and responded hesitantly. I take it that’s a hint? The last thing he wanted to do was think about the night before; or he would be more inclined to drag her back into bed, not get out of it. Her determination to visit Amara made him divert his attention from the events of the preceding few hours to the concerns he had about their impending trip.

Paul felt the need to get his reservations out in the open. Why the hell are we about to get onto a plane to Oman when we haven’t got a clue how Go’el will react? I know I’ve said it before, but I’m not sure this is a good idea?

Sahara stopped in her tracks, a little annoyed at his negativity. She caught his eye and gave him a disappointed look. No, I’m not sure, but I have to see her. I can’t stand not knowing how she is.

After all Go'el had done in the previous few weeks, Sahara’s determination to confront him worried Paul. To some degree, he could understand why Go'el had performed the resurrection that had brought his mother, Cassandra, back to life, however weird it seemed, especially when he tried to imagine the circumstances whereby he had devised such a plan in the first place. His actions were obsessive, and that could not be perceived as a good sign. But with all that said, Cassandra was his mother, and he had lost her in the most traumatic way possible.

He simply could not imagine what it must have been like for such a newly formed life, no matter how advanced, to be aware of his mother’s fate as he grew inside her womb and be powerless to prevent it. Such a tragedy would be unbearable for any being. That he had survived the trauma it must have caused with his sanity intact was a tribute to his character and not only that—Go’el had proved by his actions that he was a good and compassionate. Against all odds Go’el had overcome every trial that his father threw at him in his attempt to make Go’el as evil as himself.

When Sahara told him about the resurrection of Cassandra, Paul considered whether or not he would have gone to such lengths for his own mother. Had Paul known such a thing was possible, he had to say, yes, he would have. It was not Go’el’s decision to resurrect his mother that bothered Paul. It was the strange turn of events that saw Go’el take the casks that held Barak from the bunker and his decision to permit Klaus into the home he shared with Amara that made him worry about what was going on in the young Guardian’s head. These actions seemed far removed from the Go’el they had come to know.

It was a riddle. Why would he take the caskets and the old German to Oman? Why would he want any reminder of his father when he had gone to such lengths to be rid of him? Barak was behind his mother's death, even though it had been Klaus who wielded the knife it was at his father’s command and it was Barak who had defiled Amara. Paul was unable find a logical reason for Go'el's need to keep Barak's remains close to him, and until he could fathom what was behind his decision and what his true motives were, he felt they were on dangerous ground. Wouldn’t it be best to go with Romero? You could get there and back very quickly. He asked Sahara tentatively. He was aware of her feelings on the matter, but decided it was worth one last plea to try and get her to reconsider the advantages of having Romero with her to back her up.

Sahara stopped him. We’ve already been through this. I don’t want to go there and appear heavy-handed. Go’el will already know we’re on our way. I can’t block him, and believe me; it's not for want of trying. He’s so powerful now, I’m sure he could get any information he desired. But what disturbs me most is that it’s as if he wants me to know he’s aware of every move I make. Thank goodness he has to sleep or there’d be no relief.

Isn’t that more reason to take Romero?

Paul, really, how many times do I have to repeat myself? If I show up with Romero, it’ll look as if we’re going to take Amara from Oman, and I get the distinct impression he wouldn’t allow her to leave. And if that’s the case, I don’t want to force his hand. Why upset Amara for no good reason. If what I believe is true, then we can’t get her out of there.

She’s a Guardian, Sahara. How could he possibly stop her?

I don’t know, but I have a feeling that since his transformation, Go'el can do any damn thing he wishes, and no one can stand in his way. That includes the Council. So we have to be careful. I don’t want him to think we are his enemy.

This trip sounds more dangerous every time we discuss it. If he’s that powerful have you considered what you’ll do if he turns on you?

She loved how protective he was and suddenly felt warm inside because she knew that it was not himself that he was afraid for; rather, his only thought was for her safety, but she refused to change her mind. Not even to appease Paul. It won’t come to that, I promise. Go’el would never do anything that might alienate Amara. Well, so long as I play ball, that is, and I realise I have no other choice but to play along.

As well as his worry for her safety, Paul had other concerns. He was nervous of Amara’s reaction of Sahara and he as a couple. If Amara's response to their relationship was one of disapproval, how would her daughter’s censure affect what he had with Sahara? He knew his motives were selfish, especially with all that was going on, but he was happy, and he did not want that to end. Are you sure you want to break the news about us with this hanging over your head?

Darling, be realistic. Amara will realise there’s something between us as soon as she sees me. I won’t be able to hide my happiness from her.

Paul’s heart missed a beat. He felt sure that Sahara felt the same as he did, but it gave him confidence to hear her verbalise her feelings.

She stopped what she was doing and turned to face him. I was hoping we could spend some time together before I leave for Pakistan, but if you don’t want to come… She looked at him pleadingly. She would have been extremely disappointed if he had expressed a preference to stay.

You must be joking. There’s no way I’d let you go there on your own.

He jumped up and sat at the edge of the bed. He watched as Sahara moved around the room. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved mint-coloured T-shirt, and her long auburn hair was tied up in a ponytail. Without a stitch of make-up, she managed to look amazing. But it was not her appearance that held him to her. The relationship with Sahara` was the first Paul had been in where looks were of so little importance. He heard his father tell his mother many times she looked just as beautiful as when they had first met. He thought he was being kind, but now he understood. Sahara would never age, but it would not have mattered to him if she did. He simply loved to be with her. Time could never extinguish the beauty that radiated from within her.

Sahara turned so that he was unable see how relieved she was that he was still ready to accompany her to Oman and immediately changed the subject. Did you remember to book a hotel? The last thing I want is to show up at Go’el’s palace and push ourselves on them.

He laughed, partly because he was nervous and partly because it was just like Sahara to wait till the last minute to check they had somewhere to stay when they got there. That’s the least of your worries, but yes, I booked it for four days. Before she could object, he added, And I don’t want any arguments. If we’re going to travel all that way, we may as well have some time to relax.

Relax! You must be joking. There was a knot in Sahara's stomach that she felt sure she would be unable to rid herself of until she saw Amara. Why am I so nervous of rocking the boat? The question was directed at Paul while at the same time a rebuke to herself.

Just showing up is going to be enough to rock that boat.

Oh God, you’re right, but I don’t care. Amara’s all alone with Go’el, and that thing he calls mother. Oh, and then there’s the German…we mustn’t forget the Nazi war criminal. Imagine being surrounded by those people. What sort of life is that? And she hasn’t been in touch for days now. No, I’m going, and that’s definite. If I don’t go now, I won’t see her for a couple of months…after I return from Pakistan.

Paul walked over to her and took Sahara in his arms. Slow down. It’ll be okay. You’ll see for yourself soon enough. Whatever happens, Romero won’t let it get out of hand, and whatever we find there, we’ll face it together. He said, trying to convince himself as much as Sahara.

Maybe, but I don’t know what he’s been telling her while we’ve been out of touch. I’m scared I won’t be able to find out what’s really going on with her without alienating Go’el?

We’ll wing it. She’s going to be so happy to see you, and you know how she is. Amara will soon break the ice and we take it from there.

I hope you’re right…about her being happy to see me, that is.

She’ll be thrilled, you’ll see. He kissed her gently. Come on, let’s get this over with. He said as he made his way to the en-suite bathroom.

Sahara popped her head around the door. Oh dear, I forgot to say…Colin and Karen are going to be staying at the house while we’re gone. They’re going to have a look around the house near Marble Arch. Don’t forget to remind me to leave the key.

How will you get it to them?

I’ll send it by DHL when we get to the airport.

Paul was busy brushing his teeth. Will do. Do you mean the house on Berkeley Mews where Michael was living before he and Rita got their own place?

Yes, that’s the one. Romero said it would be perfect for them. Sahara left the door open while she grabbed her passport and purse from her dressing-table drawer and threw them in her hand luggage. They’re really excited. Well, Colin mostly—he loves London.

Paul’s rushed out of the bathroom and threw on a light sweater. It’s a really nice place. I lived there for a while myself before I bought my apartment in Kensington. He picked up his car keys and his case. Come on. Let’s get out of here before I change my mind. He laughed, but there was a part of him that wished he had more say in the matter.

~~~

Sahara and Paul had not visited Muscat before, and the airport was an experience in itself. It was quite different from Dubai: much more Middle Eastern or at least, how Sahara imagined the Middle East would be before her visit to the UAE. That aside, there were more Europeans there than Sahara had supposed. For some reason, she believed Oman to be more provincial than it appeared at first glance. The airport was busier than many that she had been to over the last couple of years, but then Oman did have oil. Unlike the rest of the region, there was enough for the domestic market and for the ever-growing airline, now that many of the other airlines had cut their services after the shortages. Much to the displeasure of the West, the Sultan of Oman refused to export oil, other than the small surplus, despite the fact that he could have sold it on the market at top-dollar. As well as being self-sufficient in oil after the restraints of the last few years, Oman had a variety of agricultural products, which were grown in five distinct regions, and was less dependent on imported food than the other GCC countries.

On their short journey from the airport, it was a surprise to see so many vehicles on the road. It was like old times. By that, she meant the roads, as in reality Muscat bore little resemblance to anywhere she had visited. But it was an incredibly beautiful city, and the citizens of the small sultanate seemed to have been spared the hardships their neighbours had faced during the previous few years. Perhaps she thought ruefully it had something to do with Barak’s main residence being in Oman. Regardless of the reason, she found it refreshing.

They arrived at the Grand Hyatt Muscat in the early hours of the morning; a five-star hotel situated on a pristine stretch of beach in the capital. The building was a striking illustration of Arabian architecture. Sahara stood in the lobby for a while, taking everything in. The hotel was even grander than she had anticipated, having deliberately not let herself go there and spoil seeing it for the first time with Paul. In any case, it mattered little how clearly she could see the location in her mind; it was never the same as being there in person. The smell and feel of the place were lost—much the same as looking at a photograph or a reel of film. Not only that, it was their first trip together, and she was keen they shared the experience. Paul handled their reservation while she had a quick look round. She wanted to have a look at the swimming pool specifically; they were always spectacular in that part of the world, and she wasn’t disappointed. It was a beautiful sprawling expanse overlooking the sea. She made a promise to herself to take some time out to enjoy the facility while they were there and quickly returned to reception. Although they had slept on the flight, she knew Paul was tired and keen to get to bed. They caught a couple of hours’ sleep and had no sooner finished breakfast when a porter approached their table and offered Sahara a note. He placed it in her hands and instead of reading it, she looked at the envelope and put it on the table.

Paul waited, but in the end, he lost patience. Go on, open it.

I know what it says. She handed the note to Paul, and he quickly slit the envelope with his pen, tearing it in half in his rush to expose the contents.

Dear Sahara and Paul,

Welcome to Muscat. There is a car awaiting you. When you are ready, please feel free to join us.

I will greet you when you arrive. I would like to speak with you for a moment before you meet with Amara.

Go’el