Chapter 45. The Mother of Voices.
Eurdor-Can, is the Mother of all Voices, her body is strong and fires spews from her mouth. She looks to the South and her gaze is never ending, and when she speaks, all who stand before her have perished for her voice is beyond thunder.
From the Book of Arm-Ra.
The morning suns were beginning their journey across the sky, with them the day moons watched, as the strongest warriors of the Outlanders and the Norgonie, rode out from the Great Fortress. They numbered a half hundred, no more were needed, to make Eurdor-Can speak. They left the rest behind, preparing for a last stand, least the power of the Metal God, prove too much for those riding to meet him.
Whiptails and Rowgors, passed through the entrance gate, they did so without the fanfare and shouting, beause of the absence of the Elders and the children from both tribes. They were now deep in the forest, safe from the battle to come. The huge doors, were opened by the power of four strong Rowgors, the steam engines no longer worked, all the Eul had been consumed, and no more was forthcoming.
In spite of all this, Arn and Ishea, rode proudly at the head of their warriors as the war drums sounded and the signal horns blew loudly. The air was also filled with ancient battle songs, each tribe singing with their brothers and sisters, now they were one great force. The banners of the Madrigal, flew beside the flags of the Norgonie, also the smaller standards of the clans within the tribes. With all differences forgotten, both men and women, rode side by side, ready to fight.
Valen the Caladon Outcast, rode with the Madrigal, although he was not one of them, he would fight and die alongside them if need be. Perhaps the God would grant him a place in the Golden Hall of Isarie, and he would not have to wander through the Afterlife alone.
The Honnargar were not to be seen, they would wait until their leader called, then they would take to the air. Until then they would wait in the forest arena, listening to the waking cries of Sagar Cats.
There was something out-of-place in the great army, a huge wagon pulled by two strong Rowgors. It resembled the Karracks of the Outlanders but it was three times the size, its huge wheels, twice as thick. Its sides were made of steel, and its contents could not be seen. It was of great importance, a company of Norgonie guarded it, challenging anyone who came near.
The last of the warriors left the Fortress, it reminded the King of other battles.
Seeda, I wish I could see you now.
Arn was thinking of his lost sister, in his minds-eye, he could see her proudly riding her strong Whiptail, eager to fight for her people.
You sit beside Isarie now, and her Golden Hall rings with your laughter. Then his thoughts turned to his fallen brother.
Agart, you were my conscience, I long to hear your wise words; they were both gone now and without Andra at his side, he felt very alone. He turned to look at the Great Fortress as the forest consumed them. It took all of his willpower, not to turn his Whiptail, back towards his tent, and the woman waiting there for him.
Ishea was also thinking of someone left behind, but her son had broken the law,
It is my fault that he is not beside me; she thought; I am his mother and he is a shadow of my heart.
The memories of cycles past, when she had watched him grow into a strong warrior, came flooding back to her now. With them, she heard the angry words, she had spoken to him, about his father, and how he had betrayed their love.
If only I could turn back time; she knew it could not be done, and she was left without her son, only a lost love to fight beside. She made a vow to Arm-Ra again.
If I am to die, let me die fighting beside him. She knew it was a prayer unworthy of her, she was the Queen of the Norgonie, she should have been thinking only of victory. So she drove all thoughts of death from her mind, and let the blood fire of war fill her instead.
Valen was also thinking of his past life, although he was Outcast, he did not regret his actions. He remained true to his heart and would do so until the end, still it was a hard, to be without a tribe.
I have made a vow to destroy the monster that destroyed my people; he told himself. He just hoped, he would live long enough, to fulfill the pledge.
As the combined army moved through the portal, the King's blind brother stood with the woman he loved, on the Fortress wall. Anais knew that he might not see his brother again, so he offered a prayer on his behalf. “May the God watch over you and keep you from harm”, he said softly.
To anyone who had known the Prince, when he ruled so ruthlessly over his people, it would have sounded like empty words. The blind man meant every word. Kela standing next to him also said a silent prayer, her eyes following the warriors.
When the Great Fortress was far behind, the warriors ceased singing and rode in silence, a wise man did not let the enemy, hear him coming. Even the Norgonie Drogs did not howl, they had been trained to hold their barking when commanded. The only sound now, was the wailing of the forest birds and the creatures that called the green woods home.
All morning they traveled, following ancient trails and stone landmarks, placed there by long dead Norgonie. The thick woods soon thinned and the canopy of leaves, opened to a stormy sky. Even a first cycle child could see that rain was coming, soon the sky would rumble with the sound of thunder and lightning. A short time later, Arn and Ishea rode into an open land, it was without vegetation, only rock and the remains of forgotten war machines, dotted the expanse. This was the Eye of Death, a place where only the spirits of the dead lived. The occasional Shellback or Doffbird, could be seen, foraging for scraps of food, there were few other animals.
The King had seen lands like this before, barren and empty, he did not fear them. Deep within he could almost hear, the battle cries of warriors long dead, there was a smell of forgotten blood in the air.
Many have died here; he thought, again he remembered the countless wars he had fought. The times when the fighting madness was upon him and he let himself be consumed by its blood lust. Knowing that once more, he was heading into danger, only made his heart beat faster.
Some distance ahead of the Nomads, on course to meet them, the risen warship of the Trajion Battle Fleet, destroyed everything in its path. Ancient temples, where once the prayers of long forgotten people echoed, now crumbled before the metal monster. Ancient fortifications, were torn apart, there remains scattered to the winds. Great trees whose branches reached to the heavens, now lay crushed upon the ground, no living creature, could stand before the oncoming death.
“On course and maintaining speed”, reported the Task-robot. The seated God did not speak, he was thinking of his revenge and how sweet it would taste. He stopped himself, he could no longer remember the taste of anything. He did faintly remember, putting food into his mouth, it seemed very odd to him now. Why waste time on such a silly thing, when he could have nourishment, pumped directly into his absorbing sac?
Why would I have done such a thing? He mused, then he forgot the matter and concentrated on the conflict ahead. As he did, he suddenly found his mind was far away, he no longer sat on his throne but rode on the back of an Outlander's Whiptail.
Arn suddenly felt his body floating in the air, then he found himself sitting in a dim chamber, looking down at steel hands that were not his own.
“Artock!” He cursed.
As quickly as he had been taken, he was back on his Whiptail once more. For a moment or two, his head was spinning, like a leaf in a windstorm, and he rocked in his saddle.
“Are you hurt?” Ishea called out, as she saw her former mate, holding his helmeted head.
“No, I am well”, the King replied as the spinning left him, a moment later, he was riding as well as before, but still the image haunted him.
A demon must be in my shadow; he did not know any spell that could banish such a thing, so he let it pass.
The Norgonie Queen had never seen weakness in the Nomad before. She saw it as a passing thing and concentrated on the task ahead.
Valen also saw the King sway in his saddle, it was not his place to question his leader, so he remained quiet and concerned himself with the battle ahead. He had been given new armor, it did not bear the symbols of the Madrigal, he was not of that tribe. He had lost his Tooth long ago, but the Ironworkers had forged him a new one. Although there had not been time to complete the ceremony, normally done when a warrior is given his ax. He still considered it to be his, to be wielded with all his strength.
They continued onwards, the land grew narrow and soon they were riding through a canyon with steep rocky sides, and in a few places, crumbling fortifications. There were great cuts in the rock, showing signs of burning, as if great heat had ripped across the surface. The floor of the canyon was littered with the remains of huge animals, and the skeletons of warriors long dead.
“This is the place of the Protector”, Ishea spoke softly, she pointed with her spear at a structure in the distance, “there lives the Mother of Voices”.
Arn looked to see a large mound of rock, and something crouched upon it, like a great bird of prey. As they drew closer, the King could see more detail, it was not a creature of flesh and bone, it was a great machine of war.
It closely resembled the Nomad's long-range cannon, but its size was beyond belief. The barrel, pitted with age, was the length of twenty tall men. It sat upon a huge mound of solid rock, cut into a platform, massive bands of steel held the breech of the enormous gun. There was a wide stone ramp, leading up to the rear of the weapon, at the top was another platform, giving access for loading. Who had forged such an incredible thing, was beyond the Nomad's knowledge, the Gods must surely, have put it there.
When at last, they stood beside the huge gun, the Queen gave a signal to her warriors, who dismounted. Seeing they had reached their goal, the King also gave the same order, the Outlanders quickly surrounded the mound of rock and steel, so no enemy could come near.
Now the purpose for the great wagon became known, it was pulled up to the ramp and opened, revealing a huge steel projectile, the size of a three warriors. It resembled a Doff-bird's egg, but it was flat on one end. The other end, was fashioned into a sharp point, to make for better penetration. As well as the great mass of steel, there were several round woven bags. They held a substance able to produce the power, to blast the heavy shell through the air.
If Andra had been here, she would have recognized the weapon as a siege cannon, meant to destroy an enemy at a great distance. She had faced such weapons when she was a soldier, fighting for her Home-world. By most standards, it was a primitive defense system, nothing like the Blaze-cannons or Magnitite Enforcers of the Outer Rim planets. It could still deal out death, and death is death, no matter how it comes.
It took the strength of several strong Nomads, with as many Norgonie, to lift the heavy projectile, and carry it up the long slopping ramp. Several more warriors followed with the bags of explosives. The Queen turned to the King. “Now you will hear our mother speak,” she said smiling, “and when she does death will follow”.
Death was indeed coming, the monster from the stars, was entering the place where Eurdor-Can, laid waiting.
“Long range sensors have detected a large group of humanoids, directly ahead.”
A moment later the former Shadowman, accessed the detectors, he confirmed the Task-robot's report. “Continue on course and prepare all forward weapons”, he commanded. The faithful servant transferred his orders into the projectile weapons, taken from the City of the Talsonar. The robot continued to monitor sensors, when they were in range, it would report that all was in readiness for war.
Andra was not thinking of war, neither was she thinking of the small child, held in her arms. The King's tent was surrounded by the Nomad's best warriors. When Arn rode out, he left strict orders, to guard his mate, seeing that no harm became her. Inside the Off-Worlder sat listening to the wise words of Omara, the Touchtender who had cared for her, when she lay unconscious for many days.
The old woman had seen countless children in her many cycles, but she had never seen a creature, like the one, she was now called upon, to nurture.
It is a strange thing; she thought; her skin is white as the snow and she does not cry. Any other Touchtender, would have run from the tent, never to return, saying the child was demon spawn, a thing of evil. Omara's heart was great, she mixed Grana with clear water in a special clay bowl, then handed it to the Off-worlder. Andra took the mixture and began feeding it to her child, she had learned that her baby, would not drink Trofar milk, or any nourishment other than the Salt of the Earth, combined with water. Watching her baby drink deeply, she heard the old woman speak.
“A creature that can consume the gift of the Goddess, cannot be a demon,” she said.
Andra was not listening, her mind was far away.
I promised to be at his side always; she heard her mind say, she looked down at the child in her arms, she heard a voice speaking to her.
Go to him; it said.
Looking into the infant's blue eyes, she suddenly knew it was the right thing to do, so she placed her baby into the old Touchtender's arms.
“Care for my child until I return”, she said. Quickly, she began encasing herself in armor.
A short time later, a lone Whiptail and rider, rode out from the Fortress into the green woods. The warrior, known to all as Moonbud, had left behind, the child she cared for more than anything in the world. At the same moment, her heart, was being pulled by another love, a love, she could not ignore.
Even the oldest Norgonie, had not heard the Mother of Voices speak, no enemy had dared enter their lands to face the Great Guardian of the South. Now Forest-dweller and Nomads alike, would hear what no other had heard since ages past.
It took some time to load the great gun, its breach was rusty, despite the care lavished upon it by the Norgonie in days past. With the Nomad's help, it was finally opened, following ancient teachings, the heavy projectile was loaded, to be followed by bags of combustible. Aiming the cannon would be a task in itself, inside the mount of rock, lay a series of giant wheels and pulleys. They had to be turned or pulled to make right and left, and or up and down movements. Advanced mathematics wasn’t something warrior's needed to know, they were creatures of action. There were old men of the tribe to do their thinking for them. So the Norgonie had brought with them, an Elder who had studied the writings of the Overlords, enough to understand some basic physics, and therefore he could guide them in turning the huge gun.
Now all was in readiness, the Norgonie removed the Drog's restraints, and gripped their Kagars tightly. The Nomads listened to their grunting Whiptails, they thought of how they would be greeted in the Golden Hall of Isarie, should they fall in battle. Each side prayed to their Gods that they might fight with honor, and not bring disgrace on their people.
“Within range”, reported the Task-robot, “we can commence bombardment on your command, my God”.
This was the moment the God-man had waited for, at last he would have revenge, at last he could destroy his enemy, see them scattered to the winds, and hear their screams of pain. He sat for a time, letting his anger grow within him, he felt the power rising up, like the tide of the Western Sea, when it reached its peak, he gave the order.
“Open fire!”
Outside the great machine, the long-range weapons began to roar, filling the air with a rain of death.
The warriors did not run as they heard the sound of cannon, they sat unmoving on their mounts, waiting to see, who the Gods would allow, to live and who they would choose to die.
It did not take long.
With a great burst of earth and rock, the first of the projectiles hit the ground. The Gods seemed to be on their side, little damage was done, most landing far short of their mark.
Now it was the Norgonie's turn to retaliate, they could see the metal monster, entering into the far end of the valley. It was in a narrow gap, so it would fairly easy to aim their great gun. After some qui
ck calculations, the Forest-dweller's Elder, shouted commands to the warriors, slowly the barrel of the huge cannon began to move. Creaking sounds filled the air, the steel working parts had not turned in many cycles, but they moved.
In the time it took to turn the Great Voice, another volley of shells landed amongst the warriors, this time they did not miss. Roars from two Rowgors could be heard, as they were struck by steel from the sky. Even their armor did not protect them, with their riders, they were lifted high into the air, they fell back onto the rocky ground, dead.
Still the warriors did not turn and flee, they were the bait, to draw their enemy in, they stood bravely, waiting for a command from their Leaders. Shortly after, another burst of shells, broke the air, this time it was the Nomads who entered the Afterlife. Three Whiptails and their brave riders were hit directly, in a flash of fire and smoke, nothing was left except bits of flesh and charred bone. The blast barely missed Valen, the sound of the exlpoding shell, caused his Whiptail to bolt. He managed to gain control of the beast, then gripping his tooth he steadied himself.
The Metal God was now racing fast towards them, still the great gun did not fire, it had only one chance to speak, and there would be no time to load and aim a second time.
Twice more, shells from the monster landed amongst the warriors, each time more died, still they did not run. The King held his ground waiting, it was not his place to order the Great Voice to speak that power was in the hands of his former mate.
Ishea watched unmoving, as her warriors met their end, she knew she had to be strong and wait until the oncoming metal beast, was closer. Now a volley of shells landed directly in front of her Rowgor, shrapnel from the explosions, caused her mount to roar in pain. A piece of burning steel, cut her across the left cheek, she did not move.
She was always stubborn; Arn thought.
Ishea could feel blood trickling down the side of her face, the smell of blood only stiffened her courage. She looked over at the King and saw anticipation in his eye; he was always too eager. She slowly lifted her Kagar, She shouted out in a voice that could be heard by all.
“SPEAK!”
At last Eurdor-Can spoke, from the mouth of the Great Voice, a sound burst forth, it shook the earth and filled the sky with smoke and lightning.
“Long range sensors have detected a projectile approaching at......” The Task-robot did not have time to finish its report, the huge machine God, was struck with enormous force.
After bursting from the mouth of the great gun, the heavy shell, penetrated the first, second and third layers of shielding, then it exploded, deep inside the great war machine. Fire and smoke billowed out through the jagged hole, along with plumes of steam and gas, the machine continued forward.
In his chamber, the Man-God, tried to interface with the Main Computer Console, it was no use, the Central Information Center, had been hit, as well as the Electro-magnetic shielding.
“REPORT, REPORT”, shouted the Machine-Man.
There was no response, he looked up to see that the Orbs blue light, was not flickering, inside the clear housing, he could see the organic material, convulsing violently. Suddenly his mind filled with a searing pain, the likes of which he had never known. He reeled on his steel legs and gripped his metal head, he tried to scream. Nothing came out his mouth, he had strange feeling, it was as if part of him were dying, being swallowed by the darkness of death.
The Orb had been created for war and it had fulfilled its purpose, far beyond the wildest dreams of its creators. It had destroyed whole planets and laid waste to advanced civilizations. As it circled the star Procus, it dreamed of death, then it found the human, and was given a new path to war. Now it was dying, and as its light slowly faded, we can hope, it found peace at last.
When the smoke cleared, the Nomads saw that the Metal God had been struck, they let out a great cheer and shouts of joy.
“Atos is dead”, an Outlander screamed.
“Our enemy is defeated”, hollered a Norgonie.
The King knew, it was foolish to believe, what their eyes alone, told them. He raised his ax and shouted to his warriors. “SILENCE!” the warrior's cries stopped.
Arn had listened well, as Valen told them about the strange power of the Metal God. How it could reach out, bringing pain from afar. Although he longed to charge into battle, to test his strength against such a creature, he held back, not giving in to his instincts.
It would have been easy for the Norgonie Queen, to lead her people against their enemy. Like the King, she knew that strength alone does not win battles. She cooled her blood and waited beside the Nomad.
The light was gone from the Great Orb, but the Half-human still lived.
“REPORT!” he called out again, soon a reply came.
“Damage to Sections Three to Twenty-Nine, nine, nine, nine”. The Task-robot had been damaged, but it was still functioning, and like all machines, it followed its programming. “Magnetic shielding down, weapons limited...POWER, POWER....is? Humanoids approaching from...Damage, damage!”
The Metal man could see that his power had been challenged. A lesser man might have turned and fled, but he was no longer a mere human, he was much more, and he would not be defeated. He drew up all his mind power and concentrated on saving himself. He inserted his communicator digit into the interface on his throne, then began sending orders to the mechanisms at his command.
Power was down to fifty percent, many of the forward weapons were not responding. There was great damage to the shielding, and it would take time to repair them. The Spotters and Repair-bots did their best to regain control, but they were hindered by conflicting orders and a lack of power. Navigation was also damaged and this made the Metal God, swerve from its path before crashing into the rocky walls of the valley.
“I will not be defeated,” the Man-God said, as he tried frantically to regain control of his world, after rerouting command functions, he was able to access forward weapons.
“FIRE!” he shouted.
Responding to his mind link, the canons began the bombardment once more.
Arn could see the Iron monster still coming for them, although it was badly damaged, it was still gaining ground. Now he had to make a decision, stand his ground and face the mind pain, or retreat back to the Fortress, there to make a last stand. Before he could decide, he saw several bursts of smoke and fire emitting from the monster, a moment later a shell exploded in front of him.
With a loud roar, his Whiptail was lifted into the air, he went flying from the saddle. The war beast had taken the full blast, it was killed instantly. The King was unhurt and after picking himself off the ground, he shook his head trying to clear the stars that were spinning there.
Ishea's Rowgor, had also taken some, of the blast, but was saved by its thick armor. As she saw her former mate nearly killed, and with more shells coming their way, she shouted a command to her warriors.
“Back to the Fortress!”
It went against their nature, to turn from an enemy, but they knew better than to disobey their Queen. Grumbling under their breath, they reluctantly turned their Rowgors and rode back up the valley.
The Madrigal warriors, saw their King narrowly escaping death, remembering their vows, they came quickly to his aid. Several of the Nomads, formed a wall around him, Valen reached down, extending his hand to him, Arn took it and pulled himself onto the Whiptail.
“This is the second time I have saved your life”, he said smiling.
There was no time for laughter, the King knew they must leave.
“Return to the Fortress” he shouted. “Let nothing stop you!”
Like the Norgonie, the Outlands warriors obeyed their leader. With shells bursting around them, they raced back the way they came. The Queen looked over her shoulder only once, and when she did, she saw the wounded Metal God, crashing into the Mother of Voices. It was torn it from its resting place, she knew that Eurdor-Can, would never speak again.
They raced as fa
st as their mounts could carry them, all the while, fire and smoke from bursting shells, continued to land about them, like flaming hailstones. Arn rode behind the Caladon warrior for a time, until he saw a riderless Whiptail, when they were near, the King leaped from Valen's mount, to land on the beast's saddle. It roared, then tried to fight, the King got it under control quickly, and after a moment or two, it obeyed his commands. Now with a strong Whiptail beneath him, Arn continued down the valley.
With a great flash of white, the Queen's mount went down, she was thrown from the saddle. Arn was riding next to her when the shell burst, his Whiptail was also hit, but the Outland beast's thick armor, protected it, Arn remained unhurt.
Ishea pulled herself up, she picked up her Kagar, it had landed a few feet away. She found the weapon was broken in half and useless for battle. Drawing her dagger, she turned to face the enemy, knowing more shells could land at any moment, and she could soon be walking in the Afterlife.
In that brief moment, her long life flashed before her inner eye, all her memories came flooding back in a cascade of images. She saw all her battles and victories, her cycles as the Norgonie Queen, leading her people. She heard the songs sung in her honor, and the shouts of the warriors, when she stood before them. With those glories, she also saw defeats, the vows he had broken, and the many lies that crossed his lips.
A price to pay; she thought; I will die alone.
Knowing that even a Queen must face judgement, she braced her feet and waited, for the angel of death to come for her.
Suddenly she heard a warriors cry, she turned to see a Whiptail, racing for her, riding it, was the man she had once hated, more than anyone in the world. In a flash, she was pulled into the air by a strong hand, she felt her arms grasping the King's waist.
I will not die alone; she thought; Arm-Ra has heard my prayers, and I will die at his side.
Arn dug his long spurs into his mount's side, turning they rode away from the bursting shells, and the metal monster coming closer. Down the long valley they rode, as they crossed the open space called the Eye of Death, the King saw a Whiptail, being ridden towards them. When it drew close, he saw the rider was female, suddenly he knew, his mate was rushing to his side.
She will stand with me, he reassured his mind.
Andra’s heart was pounding, she knew that soon she would be riding beside the man she loved. Together, they would be Moric-Kan once again. As she drew near, she saw the Norgonie Queen with her arms around Arn's waist, her desire cooled quickly.
Now the images which had been plaguing her, came flooding back, images of green eyes and soft nights, she knew his love, was being shared with another. She did not speak as his Whiptail approached, instead, she turned, then digging her spurs into her mount, she raced back the way she came.
Arn watched her riding away, and then he knew, she had opened the secret in his heart.
A price to pay; he thought; a price to pay.
Nomads The Fallen God Page 46
