by Pedro Urvi
“By Oxatsi!” she cried, shaking with fear.
They were marching forward in formation. More than a thousand colossal God-Warriors in full battle armor, moving in a perfectly straight line. Each was armed with a spear in one hand and a huge metallic gauntlet in the other. They were so gigantic, they trod so powerfully, that Idana knew there was nothing they could do to stop these impressive soldiers. Behind the first line appeared another, then a third, and another, then another, and still more. Idana swallowed. They were lost. They were going to be annihilated.
“The Golden Gods are sending a real army…” Oltas said, his voice faltering.
Idana’s mouth gaped wide with shock. “An army of God-Warriors…”
After the soldiers came other Gods in golden carriages pulled by coursers. They formed five squares, each made up of five hundred gods. They wore elegant dress armor on their slender bodies, and their golden faces showed the haughtiness of those who know themselves to be lords and masters.
Idana was trying to make sense of this unusual set of forces. “Five groups of carriages… five houses. They don’t mix, not even when they join forces against a common enemy…” When she realized they themselves were the enemy the Gods had come to fight, she was so overcome by terror she almost fell off the tree.
“The officers of each house?”
She shook her head several times. “Worse than that, much worse. They’re God-Lords: Nobles of great Power, with devastating skills. The Houses are sending Nobles to lead their soldiers. That can only mean they aren’t going to let anything go wrong. They’ve come to destroy us, and they want to make sure of it.”
The God-Lords radiated such invincibility that they seemed untouchable. She thought of Asu and all the evil power he was able to unleash. His nobles would not be far behind in destructive power. She shivered. There was nothing they could do against those powerful and devastating beings.
Oltas saw her lost in thought, her face twisted by fear. “What are you thinking?”
She shook her head, wide-eyed at the sight of the terrible army which was on its way. “May Igrali keep us in her glory. We’re all going to die.”
“They’re moving on without scouts, without protecting their flanks or watching their rearguard. They’re not worried.”
“They don’t need to. They fear nothing. Who’s going to be mad enough to oppose them?”
“True…”
“How long d’you think before they reach the New Shelter?”
“They’re not going very fast. They’re on foot. If they rest at night, it’ll take them about five days.”
“Five days…” she repeated desolately.
“We’d better go. We’ve seen enough.”
She nodded, and they climbed down from the tree. Thirty or so Senoca watchmen and scouts were waiting for them.
“Watch their progress and report,” Oltas ordered them. “Don’t let them capture you.”
The watchmen nodded and ran into the forest, where they disappeared into the vegetation. Idana and Oltas crossed the forest at a run. At the other end they found their horses. They mounted and galloped away.
Idana clung to her horse’s neck. “We need to gain time,” she said to Oltas.
“To head for the New Shelter, they’ll have to go through the forest.”
She shook her head. “The Nobles won’t go through. It’s too difficult. They’ll try to go round it.”
“By the eastern pass…”
“Yes, between the two great forests.”
Oltas nodded. “Are you going to do it?”
She swallowed hard and heaved a deep sigh. “I have no choice, I must. For our people.”
“They won’t listen to reason.”
“Even so, I have to try. They’d never forgive me if I didn’t.”
“We’re with you, and we’re ready. Everybody knows what’s coming. We’ve known for years.”
“They’re a brave lot.”
“We’re the Senoca, the People of the Sea. And we’re free, and we’ll die free.”
Urging their horses on, they headed swiftly towards their own people.
At dawn on the second day the army of Gods began to cross the pass between the eastern forests. They advanced as what they were: Gods, as if everything around belonged to them, as if nothing and nobody could stop them. And this was true enough. But the Senoca had spent a long time preparing for this moment, since they knew it would eventually come. And although fear sought to devour their brave hearts, they refused to run away. If they were to die, then die they would, but they would never give up the freedom they had gone through so much to gain without fighting.
The pass between the forests was narrow, and the God-Warriors moved along it four abreast. The bodies of those creatures were so massive that four of them were enough to fill the wide pass. Half way, at the narrowest part, surrounded by the densest stretch of forest, the Gods stopped. Fifty or so trees had been cut down, blocking their way. Behind them Idana was waiting, with Oltas at her side and a hundred warriors behind them.
The lines of God-Warriors opened and two God-Lords came to stand at the head of their soldiers. The first was dressed in red, the second in white. They considered the obstacle and then seemed to confer, although not a sound came from them. Then they turned to look at Idana and the group with her.
Who is your leader? Let him step forward, came the mental message.
Idana’s legs were shaking, but she pulled herself together and stepped forward. “I am the leader,” she said.
Do you know who we are?
“Yes, I do. My name is Idana. I have been in the Eternal City.”
You are one of those who escaped… In that case, slave, you know very well what you have to do. Kneel before your Gods, and you may live another day.
She took a deep breath. More than a hundred paces and a huge barricade of great trunks separated her from those heartless beings. But she knew it would not save her from their fury. Even so, she declared herself.
“This is the land of the Senoca, and it’s free land. Here Men live in freedom and kneel to no one.” Her voice sounded cool and self-assured, which surprised her because she was half-dead with fear.
The Golden was beside himself with anger, unable to believe this insolence. How dare you! Kneel, slave!
“What do you want? Why have you come?” she replied. She was holding her chin high and her stomach in so that her legs would not shake.
We have come to teach you a lesson, slave, said the other God-Lord coldly.
“And what lesson would that be?”
Whoever opposes our designs, dies, he said in a voice of ice.
“We don’t want any bloodshed.” she said, trying to negotiate so as to avoid the death of thousands. “Couldn’t we come to an agreement?”
The two Gods glanced at each other and laughed, haughtily and disdainfully.
There will be no agreement. You have disobeyed and will now suffer the punishment. We bring death and destruction. An exemplary punishment will show everybody what happens to those who disobey their Gods.
She sighed. “You have no right. We won’t go back to being slaves. We’ll fight, and if we must die, we will.”
Of course you will die.
She nodded to Oltas. The Warrior Chief raised his hand and made a turning gesture with it. They began to fall back towards the forest, followed by a hundred of their men.
Slave, came the voice of the God in red. Idana turned. Do not think we will forgive your insolence. The apothecary knew what was going to happen. The God raised a finger and murmured something. There came a red flash in his hand, and all of a sudden a ball of fire formed before him. With a wave of his hand he sent it toward the group of men.
“Look out!” cried Oltas, and pushed Idana into the woods. The ball of fire traced an arch over the barricade of trees and burst on top of the group with great gusts of flame. She was thrown back and landed heavily against a tree. Dizzy and in great pain, she saw Ol
tas and most of the men burnt to death amid the flames.
“Bastards…” she muttered, and lay there unable to move.
The Golden sent a second ball of fire and finished off all those still standing. The two Golden laughed in satisfaction as they watched the men burning. The white-clad Golden focused. Raising his arms, he created a strong current of wind, as though it were a living creature, and hurled it at the trees of the barricade. Half of them were sent flying. The Golden was about to clear the rest when he heard a long-drawn-out whistle coming from both sides of the path. It was as though the forests were whistling a death-tune.
Both Golden turned toward the woods. Thousands of arrows flew out of the eastern forest at the columns of Golden. A moment later came thousands more from the western forest. The Gods defended themselves by raising protective spheres and activating the shields in their gauntlets. The God of the House of Fire managed to raise his sphere an instant before fifty arrows reached him. He spun round and saw the God of the House of Air taking a step back, only to stumble and fall to the ground. He had not had time to raise his defenses, and his body was riddled with arrows from chest to head. The armor had withstood the arrows, but the ones that had struck him in the face had killed him.
No! he cried in incredulous fury. Impossible! The humans had killed a Golden. A noble. Unthinkable! He looked at the Warriors. Many of them had been struck. Most were only wounded, but some had fallen.
You damn treacherous vermin! he cried.
And in reply to his shout, the lethal whistling came again. Thousands of arrows rained on the army of Golden. But this time they were prepared. They protected themselves from the attack with very few casualties.
Attack the forests! the Golden ordered them.
The God-Warriors divided into two fronts and stampeded furiously into the forests on both sides of the path. Hiding among the undergrowth, thousands of Senoca sent a final volley of arrows against the charge of the Gods, who retaliated with spears and fire, ice and rock missiles. These wreaked havoc among the brave slaves. A moment later they were caught by the charge of the God-Warriors, who set about killing them mercilessly, using their Power and all the skill of their elemental weapons.
Idana managed to put the horn to her lips. With the last of her strength she called the retreat. The horn sounded three times.
“Flee…” she murmured, already drained of all her strength and in a sea of pain. Then she lost consciousness.
The Senoca fled, penetrating deeper into the woods like deer chased by predators, putting a distance between themselves and their pursuers. Strangely, the God-Warriors did not go after them but moved back to the path where the God-Lords were waiting. The Senoca ran for their lives without looking back, trying to cross the forests and reach safety at the far end.
Once the God-Warriors had assembled on the path, the Lords turned to face the forests. In their luxurious armor, forming five groups, they spread their arms wide, concentrated and murmured. Flashes ‒ red, blue, white, brown and translucent ‒ issued from their bodies. And a few moments later the western forest became an inferno. Firestorms formed over the whole forest, completely covering it with black clouds which exploded with bolts of fire. A rain of fire began to fall on the trees, followed by hundreds of fiery missiles which fell through the canopy of leaves from the sky. The Senoca fled in desperation from the explosions and the flames, while a fiery rain seeped through the branches so that the vegetation was devoured by flames as they fled. Everything was scorching fire: around them, above their heads, under their feet.
The forest to the east began to be covered by ashen clouds, and the temperature dropped dramatically. Storms began to cover everything with ice and snow. In a few moments everything started to freeze: earth, trees, vegetation were soon covered with ice and frost. The Senoca ran as fast as they could, this time to avoid death by freezing.
The Lords of the House of Air drove on the storms of fire and ice which had been created by the Lords of the Houses of Fire and Water until they covered the entire forest. With the air driving them on, fire and ice spread with such speed that they reached the Senoca in their desperate flight.
The destruction was complete. The great forests died, and with them thousands of Senoca. Devoured by the flames or frozen alive as they were fleeing. Only the swiftest managed to get out of the woods alive. They ran on toward the New Shelter, where the rest of the Senoca were waiting to hear the result of the battle. They looked out at the devastating destructive power of the Gods and wept with sorrow and frustration. There was nothing they could do against those powerful beings who were the incarnation of evil. Men were doomed.
Chapter 29
It was midnight when High King Gar, the sovereign of the House of Aureb, the House of the Second Ring, came into the death chamber. He was at his secret Funerary Temple in the great continent. He was accompanied by his First Erudite, the Priest in charge of protecting the temple, and a dozen personal Guards.
Gar looked around the chamber. It was circular, and at its center was an ornate altar on which lay a sumptuous sarcophagus which dominated the whole chamber. Walls and floor were of polished red marble. The altar itself and the sarcophagus were red, like a flame. A circle of hieroglyphs carved on the polished surface of the floor surrounded the sarcophagus. He gazed at the walls and studied the Golden symbols that covered them to protect his eternal rest.
He approached the altar.
“Erudite, is everything ready for the final test?”
“Yes, your Majesty. If you will allow me.”
“Proceed,” said Gar.
A lot depended on everything going well. The Five High Kings had planned the definitive test for this evening. If the test was successful, the five of them would be able to hibernate and regain life and Power. If it failed, the temple would serve its original purpose. Gar wished with all his being that the test would be a success. He did not want to die: not yet.
“It will be a success, your Majesty,” his Erudite assured him.
“It had better be. Being so close to eternal life makes you even less willing to die. I would have resigned myself to it had there been no possibility… but now… I cannot, I simply cannot. I have to become immortal.”
“We have been working on it for over three hundred years,” the Erudite assured him. “Tonight we will achieve our goal.”
Gar nodded and with the help of his two personal guards climbed onto the sarcophagus. Very slowly he lay down inside it. He smoothed out his red silk robe and placed the medallion of fire on the center of his chest.
“We will wait for the signal from the other High Kings,” he said.
The same process was taking place in four other secret temples, where the other High Kings were preparing themselves for the final test. So it had been agreed: all of them simultaneously, on the same evening and at the same moment, so that none of them would succeed and then betray the others. High Kings they may have been, but none of them trusted even their own shadow, still less their rivals.
A moment later Gar’s medallion gave off a flash. It was followed by four others.
“The Five High Kings are ready,” he announced. “Go ahead. I want to be the first.”
The Erudite took five steps in a straight line from the head of the sarcophagus to the wall. The walls of the chamber were inscribed with runes and funerary symbols to protect the great king’s final rest, as well as to help him in the voyage and the eternal life beyond.
The Erudite went to stand in front of a large circular rune and placed his hand on its center. When he used his Power, the rune lit up with the sheen of the Golden. He pressed on it, and it yielded. A rocky panel moved sideways, revealing a dozen round openings in the wall. The Erudite inserted a disc of power in each one of them, then covered them again. The rune flashed several times at short intervals.
“The mechanism has been charged, your Highness.”
“Very well. Proceed.”
The Erudite activated the rune, maki
ng it turn on itself. There followed a metallic sound, then that of rock against rock. From the ceiling a great translucent sphere slowly came down, to halt a hand-span above Gar’s body.
“You will feel cold, my Lord.”
Gar nodded. “I am ready.”
The Erudite activated another rune on the sarcophagus, which began to fill with a viscous, semi-transparent substance. Little by little the level rose until Gar was completely covered. His guards put on the lid of the sarcophagus, then moved back. The sphere began to spin, giving out a strange hum as it did so. On reaching the right speed, it flashed. A powerful beam of golden light issued from its lower end and imbued the sarcophagus with Power.
Gar did not know how long he had been in hibernation. The lid opened suddenly, and above his head he saw the sphere. It was no longer spinning.
He sat up, with the viscous substance dripping down his head and neck. “Has it been successful?” he asked his Erudite
“Answer your Lord,” ordered a voice which Gar recognized at once.
“Yes… yes…” the Erudite replied in a trembling voice.
Behind the scholar Gar saw Asu, wearing heavy battle armor. With him were Iradu and thirty or so soldiers who filled the chamber. Gar’s two guards lay dead on the floor. The Priest had been forced to leave the chamber.
“What does this mean, Asu?” Gar demanded.
“I was going to ask you the same thing, Father. What does all this mean?” He waved at the sphere and the sarcophagus.
Gar got to his feet slowly in the sarcophagus. The substance was still dripping off him. He was surrounded by soldiers.
“I am the High King of the House of Aureb. I do not owe explanations to anybody, least of all to my own son.”
“Let me guess, then. You were trying the new technology of hibernation you have been developing in secret. Now I understand why you were so interested in building this place. And here I was thinking you were obsessed with the approaching end of your days. When what you were building was this chamber, to trick death and come back revived and recovered. To come back and take my kingdom away from me. My right.”
