The Secret of the Golden Gods Omnibus Edition

by Pedro Urvi

  Honus was right. Until nightfall, under the threat of the approaching storm, they watched the useful slaves being selected and then led to a large hut. They would be marked the following day, with the symbol of the Mole being engraved over the one they already had. A painful process which Karm remembered well enough, even after so long. The pit was now filled with corpses; almost a quarter of the newly arrived were now in it. Karm had counted them, even though he knew it would only cause him pain. It was early morning when they were doused with oil and torches were thrown on them so that they would burn. He had to close his eyes, raging impotently. The Enforcers retired, leaving the corpses burning.

  “Get some sleep,” Honus said. “There’s nothing we can do about those poor wretches.”

  “They’ve been sacrificed like sick animals. We can’t let them go on doing this to our people.”

  “Oh, yes? And what on earth can we do? We’re penned in like mares and there are Executors on guard. Let it be, or else you’ll end up like them.”

  The breeze turned into a strong wind, and the threatening storm reached them at last.

  “To hell with it! This is just what we needed! The one night we’re free to spend outside and it has to rain! The bloody Gods and my stinking luck!”

  His friend’s fury made Karm smile, and for a moment he forgot both where he was and the tragedy around them. There came a terrible blast of thunder, and they glanced up at the cloudy sky. A great lightning bolt zigzagged down at dizzying speed and struck one side of the mountain.

  “Awesome!” Honus said, open-mouthed.

  The sky now filled with a display of thunderclaps accompanied by fierce lightning, and the winds lashed the surface with intensified fury. The horses began to snort in terror, and things started to turn tenser; the storm was an unusually strong one. Suddenly a great bolt fell on the wooden building beside the pens where the supporting slaves were sleeping. Karm’s blood froze as he saw the tremendous destructive power which sent the roof flying off in the wind. A moment later the building was burning with big flames. The doors were locked from the outside, so that the slaves were unable to get out. The screams of horror inside the building were chilling; the flames were surely going to devour them. The Executors reached the doors and finally opened them. The slaves came out fleeing from the fire, some with their bodies aflame, screaming in agony. In the blink of an eye the whole building was burning like an enormous funeral pyre as the slaves ran for their lives.

  Caught up by panic, the horses bolted. They began to kick wildly and throw themselves against the fences in an attempt to escape from the approaching flames. The pen broke and the horses stampeded, sweeping aside the two Executors on guard. When they realized what was happening Karm looked at Honus, then at the clear route which now opened ahead of them in the direction of the forest.

  “We can’t go on being a race of slaves forever. We have to escape, we have to fight.”

  Honus shook his head and growled.

  “Come on, my friend, I know this is all you know now, but come with me and we’ll find freedom.”

  “We’re more likely to die.”

  “Better to die fighting to reach freedom than here as slaves.”

  Honus thought for a moment. “You’re right. Let’s fight. Let the seas take them like the plague they are!”

  Karm hugged his friend. “Thanks.”

  “Where are we going to go?”

  “We’ll go in search of the red hand, the resistance, and join them.”

  “Are you sure they exist?”

  “That’s what rumor says, and I certainly hope so.”

  Honus scratched his black beard. “Well then, what the hell are we waiting for?” he roared.

  “Let’s go!” Karm said crisply.

  The two men escaped towards the forest under the cover of night, leaving behind the chaos caused by the flames: a chaos which was but an omen of what was yet to come.

  Chapter 7

  When Kyra came to Idana’s house, she found her tending to a child whose head was bleeding.

  “I don’t know what to do with him,” the mother was explaining. “He won’t stay still for a moment.”

  “It’s not serious, only a cut in the head. It just looks worse because of the amount of blood.”

  “What on earth were you thinking of, climbing that tree?” the mother scolded. “Haven’t I told you a thousand times to be careful? Look what happened, you almost killed yourself!”

  The child was no longer crying, but the marks left by the tears on his dirty face were clear.

  “Take heed of what your mother says,” Kyra said.

  The boy recognized Kyra and nodded energetically.

  “Hi Kyra, welcome,” Idana said with a smile.

  “Hello, Freckles,” Kyra returned. It was the nickname she had given her friend.

  The boy’s mother knelt before Kyra.

  “For the love of Oxatsi! How often do I have to tell you not to kneel in front of me or give me any special treatment! I’m just another Senoca, like you.”

  “Yes, of course… I’m sorry…”

  Idana smiled from ear to ear. “They’re getting used to me, but of course that’s because they come to me pretty often. Our Shelter protects them from Gods and Regents, but with illnesses and wounds it’s different. Even here it’s difficult to stay away from them.”

  “Go on before the kid faints. He’s very pale.”

  Idana nodded. “But he’ll bear up like the brave Senoca warrior he is. Wont you, my lad?”

  The boy bit his lip and nodded firmly. Kyra watched Idana’s expert hands working on the injury. How fortunate they were to have her there with them. Nobody else had any knowledge of healing, at least beyond the basic remedies Senoca grandmothers taught to the mothers, who in turn taught their daughters. Kyra looked around the house which now served as the Shelter’s hospital. One part was of stone, and this was where Idana lived. Here were her shelves full of hundreds of jars and pots containing different plants, herbs and medicinal substances of all kinds, some even of animal origin. With them were the bowls, mortars and pestles, retorts and containers that she needed. Whenever Kyra had tried to help Idana prepare the potions and balms she dispensed, she had been awed by her knowledge and skill.

  The other, wooden, part of the building was the hospital: more of an improvised extension where a dozen cots had been installed, along with equipment for the more serious injuries and illnesses. Luckily it was usually empty. But it would not always be so. We must be thankful to Oxatsi for Idana. Me most of all, because she’s the best of friends. And more than that, she’s the kindest person I know, someone who’d jump into a crocodile-infested river to save a stranger. Thinking this made her aware that she must take good care of Idana; she was her best friend, and after what had happened to Yosane she could not bear losing her too. I’ll have to make sure she doesn’t jump into a river, or come to any other kind of harm. I’ll have to keep an eye on her and look after her well. That’s what friends do. I won’t fail her.

  When mother and son left the house, Idana turned to Kyra, who was staring at one of the jars with furrowed brow.

  “Frog’s guts? For goodness’ sake, do you want us all to throw up?”

  Idana laughed. “No, silly, it’s for a medicine ‒ although in your case, now I come to think of it, it might be a good idea to give your stomach a thorough cleanout.”

  “In your dreams!”

  “What the eye doesn’t see, the heart won’t grieve over …”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Oh yes, I would!”

  They both laughed and hugged each other.

  “So what brings you here today? Friendly visit, or an errand?”

  “Neither. I’ve come because I’m finding it hard to rest… nightmares… and Ikai suggested I had a word with you, to see if you could give me something to help me sleep.”

  Idana stroked Kyra’s arm gently. There was a look of worry on her face. “You’re not sl
eeping? Is it because of what we went through?”

  Kyra nodded and lowered her eyes.

  “I understand. I have nightmares too, sometimes really horrible ones. What happened there, all that terrible experience, is something we’ll always carry with us. That’s how the human soul works, or our minds, whichever you prefer. It’s hard to get over traumatic experiences, very hard to forget them… I’ll prepare a sachet with some herbs to help you sleep. Make yourself a tisane before going to bed. That’ll help.”

  “Thanks, Freckles,” Kyra said with a grateful smile.

  “What are friends for?” Idana answered. She was smiling too.

  They said goodbye, and Kyra was on the point of leaving when Idana added: “And don’t get into any trouble.”

  Kyra laughed heartily. “You know me, I couldn’t possibly.”

  A little later, sitting on the sand spellbound, Kyra was watching the sea. It was a hot day, with a summer sun shining brightly in a clear sky which vied in beauty with the imposing ocean which awed her so much. Mother Oxatsi’s greatness leaves me breathless. A long wave broke on the shore, and a sea of spray caressed her bare feet. The touch of the sea water made her body relax still more. She was alone on a beach of fine white sand and crystalline blue water. Behind her a line of palm trees gave way to the forest and the path that led to the Shelter. She sighed. This is beautiful. It’s hard to believe what my eyes are seeing. She heaved a deep sigh, and the smell of brine flooded her lungs. White birds filled the sky with loud shrieks, momentarily covering the soft roar of the waves breaking on the beach.

  Sitting there, enjoying a peace her soul had never before known, she felt happy. She had been a slave her whole life. She knew only the hard, never-ending labor of the fields, and the exhaustion, and the hopelessness which never leaves those who go hungry. For the first time in her life she could enjoy a few moments of true peace and happiness. This is the life Ikai can see here, what he wants for us. That’s why he won’t risk letting himself be dragged into something that might endanger this place out of a dream, this peace. A gust of the sea breeze touched her face and made her ruby mane of hair flutter around her face. She felt so well, so contented, she could stay there forever, enjoying that miracle of nature, peace and wellbeing which filled her soul.

  She took a fistful of sand and let it slide between her fingers, enjoying the sensation. Watching the sand fall, she realized why this apparent haven of peace could never be that entirely. In the palm of her hand only a few grains of sand were left. These are us, the few lucky ones who’ve managed to reach freedom in this Shelter. But the rest of the Senoca, more than a hundred thousand slaves who are still trying to survive an existence of pain and suffering: they aren’t free, and they never will be if we escape and forget about them. I can’t forget them, can’t forget that they suffer every day, that the damn Gods and their servants exploit them, torture and kill them daily. I won’t forget what they did to Yosane, what they did to the rest of the Selected. I’ll die sooner than forget! That would be betrayal. No, I won’t shut my eyes to my people’s suffering, however happy I might be here in this paradise. I’ll never forget them! Never!

  She sighed deeply and tried to recompose herself. Her temper had stirred, and once that happened it was hard for her to placate it. I must speak to Ikai, make him see that we have to join the fight. I know he’ll say we’ve already done it, that we welcome refugees, more than we really can, at the risk of the life of everybody in the Shelter. But it’s not enough. For every refugee we save, a hundred die, and that’ll never change, not unless we step in, bring down Sesmok and free the Senocas. If we don’t fight, we’ll always be a slave people. Always. Damn! We have to fight! This place is just a mirage. But she knew that to her brother the Shelter was much more than that, and it was going to be very hard to convince him. But I will! Even if I have to break that thick head of his with a rock and stuff the idea inside it myself.

  Footsteps behind her made her turn. She saw Romen coming out of the palm trees. He approached, trying to read her mood as he came.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt one of our Heroes while she’s resting,” he said apologetically.

  “No trouble, and do stop referring to us as Heroes. We’re just Senocas like you.”

  “Thank you. I’ll try… Kyra… it’s just that for us, for the people, the seven are ‒ I mean you’re ‒ Heroes, and it’s very hard to forget that.”

  “I can assure you there’s very little that’s heroic in me,” she said with a sour smile.

  Romen smiled too, and she noticed that the young rebel had a very attractive smile. She had not noticed him particularly; they had barely crossed paths since the last group of refugees had arrived. He was thin, a couple of fingers taller than her. He moved nimbly and self-confidently. His brown hair was cut short, with a fringe to one side which fell over a pair of penetrating blue eyes. When the sunlight fell on his forehead she saw that his skin was darker than was usual among the pale Senocas, which made him attractive. He reminded her of Malte. The memory of her friend’s fatal end at the hands of the Enforcers filled her with longing, and she looked away toward the sea.

  He too was looking at the infinite ocean before them. “It’s beautiful. It’s hard to believe something so beautiful can be real.”

  “Yes. Whenever I can, I come here to think and enjoy this wonder.”

  “Forgive me,” he said uncomfortably. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “Never mind, I’d already done enough contemplating for today.” She smiled. “It’s not my specialty either. I’m more of a one for acting than thinking.”

  Romen laughed. “To be honest, so am I, I have to say. I have a tendency to jump straight on to something before asking. Liriana always tells me to leave the plans to her, then she’ll let me know what I have to do to make it happen.”

  “I can see we’re alike. That’s good. I hate know-it-alls. Have you known Liriana long?”

  “Practically my whole adult life.” He raised his arm and showed Kyra the Ring with the symbol of the eagle.

  “Ah, now I see. You belonged to the Guard, like her.”

  Romen nodded. “I was in her squad. She was my Captain. She trained me and taught me everything I know…”

  “In that case you must be a good fighter.”

  “I’m pretty good with weapons, yes…”

  “Forgive me, I interrupted you. I’m interested in weapons and combat, that’s why I asked. Go on.”

  “That’s unusual in a peasant… but of course, you’re a Hero… I was saying that Liriana trained me. She’s a great woman, a born leader. I’ve had proof of that in all the years I’ve been under her command. When she deserted, I went with her. Me and a few others among the ones she trusted, who were faithful to the cause.”

  “I guess Sesmok must have ordered an investigation of the City Guard after Liriana helped my brother escape.”

  “That’s right. The whole regiment was investigated in depth. There was torture and blood spilled. Several officers were executed as a lesson, and to set an example.”

  “Ugh! What a disgusting pig that Sesmok is!”

  “He’s a treacherous viper, and very dangerous. They say in the capital that if there’s anyone the Regent doesn’t approve of, his days are numbered and he dies a painful death.”

  “We should finish him off. Stab his heart with a poisoned dagger.”

  “Gedrel’s tried… but he’s fanatical about security, and paranoid as well. We’ve never managed to get close enough to him. The worst thing is that now it’ll be even more difficult. He’ll already have heard rumors of the uprising, and he won’t take the slightest risk. He’ll double his personal guard and armor the capital, especially his palace.”

  Kyra clenched her jaw. “If it was in my hands…”

  “That’s the reason… why I came to talk to you.”

  “Out with it. Don’t beat about the bush. Patience isn’t my thing.”

  “Well�
� you see, your brother has made his position clear, and I respect it completely. The responsibility of leading the Shelter is a very heavy one. Many lives depend on his decisions.”

  “But…”

  “But Gedrel entrusted me with an important mission, and it’s my duty to try to carry it out by whatever means.”

  “The plea for help you made to Ikai?”

  “Exactly. Your brother doesn’t want to take any more risks. It’s a prudent attitude, and a worthy one, but there are some important people who are crucial for the cause… for Gedrel… They’re in danger.”

  “And you want me to help.”

  “The other Heroes won’t disobey Ikai. You’re the only one I can appeal to.”

  “Ha! And you said you weren’t one of the smart ones. How do you know I’d disobey my brother?”

  Romen shrugged and took on an innocent look. He gave her his charming smile.

  “Yeah, yeah. Go easy on the smiles. What you’re asking of me is going to get me into serious trouble with my brother.”

  “Will you think about it, at least? I can assure you you’ll be doing a great thing for the cause. We’re risking a lot, and if there was any other way I wouldn’t be asking you.”

  “All right, I’ll think about it. But I can’t guarantee anything. The last thing I want to do is disobey my brother and make him angry.”

  “Thank you, Kyra,” Romen said, and bowed.

  “Stop curtsying, for Oxatsi’s sake!” she protested, laughing.

  Romen smiled from ear to ear and moved away until he was lost in the dense foliage of the forest. She followed him with her gaze. She had been pleasantly surprised by the rebel soldier. Not only by his smile, but by his loyalty to the cause, even though what he had proposed put her in a difficult position. But she liked people with ideals, people who did not shrink in the face of difficulties, who looked for solutions instead of burying their heads in the sand when things did not go as planned. She would have to think very carefully about following Romen against her brother’s will. Very carefully indeed.