04c Dreams of Fire and Gods: Gods (23 page)

The men were robed, which now seemed odd, since every other Stronni man Gonim had seen had been naked. Gonim hadn’t noticed them when he and the goddess entered, because they sat in shadow, silent and barely moving. How they could see what they were doing he had no idea, but each man was busily writing on a long roll of parchment.

“Order and discipline,” Imen went on. “That is what the Stronni brought to humankind. We lifted your people out of ruin and tribal warfare and helped you create the civilization you have today. One would think that would be enough.” She lowered her hand to caress Gonim’s face. “But long ago, my warrior, the
caedan
began to embellish what we passed along to them. Since these embellishments served to keep order, we allowed them. But perhaps the time has come to purge these errors.”

She paused for a long time, gazing upon Gonim as one might regard a well-loved pet. He grew uncomfortable and asked, “Your Majesty?”

Imen dropped her hand and began to circle him. He knew by now that it was best to remain still while she did this. “How many humans have you seen since you arrived here?”

“None, Your Majesty.”

“There are none. You, my warrior, are the only one of your kind to ever see the Great Hall of the Stronni.”

Gonim felt a cold chill enveloping his body as the implications of this sank in. “The… only one… Your Majesty?”

“The Stronni are immortal,” Imen said, coming to a stop in front of him. “But we do not have the power to grant immortality. I wish we did. You have served me faithfully, and I would grant you such a boon, were it in my power. But though I can heal you and grant you strength, it is beyond my ability to keep you alive… forever.”

Perhaps Gonim should have been grateful. He had been at the edge of death, and the goddess had pulled him back, had granted him strength and invulnerability for a time, and had even allowed him one last taste of love. Now he had seen what no mortal eyes had ever seen before—the abode of the gods. But his sense of betrayal was too great. For countless ages, humankind had comforted itself with the knowledge that the dead would live on for eternity in the realm of the gods. But it was a lie.

He was startled by a great trumpet blast resounding throughout the hall.

For the first time, Gonim saw something like fear flash in Inem’s eyes. “Quickly! Go to the edge of the room and kneel. Keep your head lowered and do not speak, unless the king speaks directly to you. Your life depends upon it!”

Gonim scurried off to the side of the room and saw just a glimpse of the queen turning to greet the king, a bright smile on her face, before he lowered his head as she’d commanded.

“Your Majesty,” she said to King Caednu.

“They mock me!” Caednu raged as he strode into the throne room. Out of the corners of his eyes, Gonim saw four Stronni men, presumably guards, following at the god’s heels, while torches on the wall near the throne ignited under their own power, illuminating the far end of the room. “I could have destroyed Worlen in half a day, had you not stayed my hand! And now one of the fools stands on a hill and dares me to strike at him!”

“And yet this ‘fool’ is still alive,” Imen replied.

“How?”

“He is one of the two humans who rescued the Iinu Shavi, my lord.”

“He cannot be human.”

“He was when he set her free,” Imen said. “I am certain of it. But he does not appear to be now.”

Caednu hesitated and began to circumnavigate the immense room. “What is he, then?”

“He may be… Taaweh.”

The king snorted. “Taaweh? How is that possible?”

“I do not know, my lord. Nor do I fully believe it. I am still… considering.”

“Then ‘consider’ more quickly. My patience wears thin.”

“My servant has determined that the cloud cover in Harleh Valley is due to the Taaweh,” Imen said. “They have returned, as we suspected. Gyishya has risen in the valley, and they have found a way to protect it from us.”

Gonim heard the king’s footsteps approach him with mounting fear—fear which turned to terror, as Caednu stopped directly in front of him. “Your servant is defiling my throne room.”

Since Gonim hadn’t again lost control of his bowels or bladder—most likely because both were now empty—he assumed Caednu meant he was defiling the throne room with his mere presence.

Still terrified to raise his eyes, Gonim sensed rather than saw Imen rush forward. Her voice was cajoling, yet tinged with the faintest bit of fear. “I beg your indulgence, my lord. I merely thought to reward him for his loyal service to the Stronni.”

“You have… odd ideas, my queen,” Caednu said coldly. “To bring one of these filthy creatures into our sacred space….”

“Please, my lord. He has little enough time left to him. Let me return him to his people.”

“Look at me, human,” King Caednu commanded.

Trembling, Gonim lifted his face to look up into the face of his god. Caednu was incredibly handsome, with a strong jaw and aquiline nose. His penetrating, deep-set eyes seemed to flicker like flame—orange, gold, red—and his clean-shaven head glistened with shimmering tattoos in arcane symbols unlike any Gonim had ever seen before. The tattoos extended down his naked torso, arms and legs, and moved like flames lapping at the god’s golden skin. His body was muscular and perfectly formed, and would have towered over even the tallest human man. Though he’d only caught a glimpse of it as his eyes traveled up the god’s torso, Gonim had seen that the god’s genitals were likewise massive and perfectly formed.

“How do you find your god, human?”

Gonim had difficulty speaking, but managed to squeak out, “You are… perfect, Your Majesty.”

“Do I frighten you?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good.” Caednu turned away from him and strode over to his throne. He climbed the steps and sat down. “Your whims keep me perpetually entertained, my queen, but please remove the creature.”

Imen bowed. “As you command, my lord.”

“Perhaps you can send him back to talk some sense into his fellows. If Harleh is harboring the Taaweh, then that has sealed the fate of Worlen. I will no longer stay my hand for the sake of your sentimental attachment to these creatures. If the destruction of Worlen doesn’t convince the eastern kingdom to abandon the Taaweh, I will see the entire kingdom reduced to a smoldering wasteland.”

S
AEL
watched anxiously for the smoke to clear. While he’d been in the presence of the Iinu Shavi, it had been… somewhat easier to believe Koreh would be safe, alone on the hillside. But it hadn’t been easy to watch him standing there as a fireball fell upon him and engulfed the landscape. Sael had had to bite back a scream as the wall of flame rose up against the invisible barrier.

At last, he saw Koreh walking toward him through the smoke. He seemed completely unaffected, not even flinching as his bare feet padded softly through the hot ash that had scorched the soles of Sael’s leather boots earlier. He stepped through the boundary, his feet coming down upon lush green grass, and Sael ran to embrace him.

“I really hope you don’t keep doing that,” Sael said.

“I’d rather not,” Koreh replied. “Unlike you, I don’t bring a change of clothes with me every time I leave the house.”

Sael stepped back from him, feeling the familiar irritation he often felt in Koreh’s presence. “I’ll have you know, I’m wearing the same clothes I had on last night.”

Koreh sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “I can tell.”

“It’s a good thing for you I can’t have you executed. You’d probably break the axe.”

“Please tell me you haven’t turned into some horrible tyrant who executes courtiers for accidentally farting in the throne room.”

Sael struggled not to laugh at that. “No, you’re safe.”

“My lord,” one of his guards interrupted them. “Perhaps Lord Koreh would like some clothes brought to him?”

Koreh quirked an eyebrow and said with distaste, “
Lord
Koreh?”

“Blame my father…,” Sael began.

But before he could continue, someone in the camp shouted, “Heads up!” The terrified expressions that came over his guards’ faces made him turn to look out across the boundary. What he saw made his blood run cold.

Another fireball was heading toward them. But this wasn’t coming from above—it was rolling along the ground, through the forest to the west. And it was incinerating not only trees, but the emperor’s army. The screams of men could be heard above the roar of the flames and the crackling and snapping of the trees as they ignited and toppled over.

As in the story of Üragit and several other ancient tales, the Stronni had turned on the faithful and were now cutting them down for their failures.

Men from the enemy camp began to run toward the boundary, doubtless hoping for sanctuary, but the fireball overran them. The flames were hot enough that they probably vaporized into ash and smoke in midstride. The fireball exploded against the barrier, creating a wall of flame that leapt up ten stories or more.

When the flames subsided, men could be heard shouting on both sides of the boundary. The smoke was still thick, but Sael guessed more soldiers might be heading their way from the emperor’s army, desperately trying to reach safety before another fireball came through. He turned to one of the guards. “Run along the length of the boundary! Tell everyone you see to be on the lookout for more of the emperor’s soldiers making a run for our camp. They’re to be allowed through! Understand? If they fall unconscious, they’re to be dragged to safety. If any wounded collapse before reaching the boundary, do what we can to retrieve them, but keep watch for another attack.”

“Yes, my lord!”

“Tell them it’s on my order.” He hoped he wouldn’t be contradicting any orders given by Commander Navük, but if the man wasn’t decent enough to rescue enemy soldiers in these extreme circumstances….

The guard ran off, and Sael turned to the second guard. “Find Master Geilin and ask him to join me. I’ll remain here—there’s little point in us both running around the camp searching for each other. If you see Lady Tanum….” Sael would have liked to order her to stay in her tent, but he knew it would be pointless. Perhaps she would be inclined to remain at Seffni’s side if the man was still bedridden. “Never mind. Just find Master Geilin, please. And see if you can round up a tunic and some breeches for… Koreh.”

The soldier ran off, and he turned to find Koreh smirking at him. “You were going to call me ‘lord’ again, weren’t you?”

Sael tried to think of a sharp retort, but the smoke was thinning, and he caught sight of something moving in the distance. He felt himself blanch, and muttered under his breath, “By the gods….”

Koreh turned to see what he was looking at.

It was a man, but like Koreh, he was stark naked. His skin blazed with fiery tattoos from head to toe, and he carried an enormous two-handed great sword—swinging it to and fro in one hand, as though it were no more than a fencing foil. The blade of the sword burned with a flame that never faltered as it cut through the air. As he drew nearer, it became clear that the man himself was far larger than an ordinary man. He was one of the Stronni, Sael was certain, as he and Koreh had seen one the night they’d rescued the Iinu Shavi.

“It’s King Caednu,” Koreh said.

“What? It can’t be.”

“It is,” Koreh insisted. “I’ve seen him in the visions I had about the Taaweh and the Great War.”

Sael had been raised to think of the gods as distant and removed from the world of men. His mind rebelled at the thought of one of them striding up to him on the battlefield, and even more so at the thought of King Caednu himself approaching. But he trusted Koreh’s vision. Even if he hadn’t, there was something so awe-inspiring and fearsome about this figure that he could be no other than Caednu himself.

Sael gripped Koreh’s arm, but he refused to back away. Koreh likewise stood his ground.

“Ah,” the god said in a deep rumbling voice as he drew near the barrier, “it’s our little immortal. You’ve done well against fire. Shall we see if your neck can resist my sword?”

In one swift motion, he raised the great sword and swung it at Koreh’s head. The sword hit the barrier and went no farther. There was no sound, save the scream of impotent rage Caednu let out. Slowly, he dragged the sword across the barrier, as if he were trying to cut it. Sael saw the god’s arm trembling with the effort. But the barrier held.

Caednu lowered the sword and said, “Koreh… and Sael. Yes, I know your names. Queen Imen has watched you your entire lives. How you came to be allied with our ancient enemies, she failed to see, but you have signed the death warrant for all the people of Worlen and the east kingdom.”

Sael was terrified, but he was also enraged. And his anger, along with Koreh standing at his side, gave him courage. “And what of the soldiers you just cut down?” he shouted. “They were faithful to you, yet you slaughtered them!”

“That is the penalty for failure.”

“I thought my father was a tyrant. But he cares for his people. You are nothing but a monster with no compassion at all!”

Caednu growled at him, pressing his chest against the barrier as if he could force himself through and strangle the defiant humans on the other side. “I am a warrior! I kill and destroy! I leave ‘compassion’”—he said the word with contempt—“to Queen Imen.”