The Black God's War

by Moses Siregar III

  “I know you seek the best for Lucia and me.”

  “Yes. As the political leader of our people, I must sometimes do things for the welfare of our kingdom, even when it interferes with my children’s wishes.” His father looked at him intently again with quivering eyes.

  An ill feeling washed over Caio.

  “If you want to speak any more tonight, I will be here, dining with our soldiers. After that, I will retire.”

  “Very well. I’ll come and eat soon. Tonight we can discuss Narayani.”

  His father’s left hand rushed to scratch his beard, on both sides of his face. “Remember that above all, you are my son and I love you. Remember that I have a duty to uphold our proud lineage. You remember that.”

  “Of course, Father.” Caio felt the tension in his father’s body. He decided to give him space. “I’m going straight to my yurt then.”

  “Go and change. Make yourself presentable, then meet me for your meal,” his father finished with a hard slap to Caio’s back.

  Caio completed the walk to his yurt, near the center of the complex, still feeling unsettled by his father’s emotions. The ten guards protecting the area knelt, but silently and without joy. Caio felt a great melancholy within them.

  “Find joy in your service, my brothers, for Lux Lucis.”

  One man raised his head just enough to look at Caio. “We have done as we’ve been told, my Haizzem.”

  “Of course you have. Is everything all right?”

  No one answered.

  “I asked if everything is all right? Speak!”

  The same soldier looked up frowning, with his neck and cheeks quivering. “We’ve only done as our king commanded us, my Haizzem.”

  Caio opened the doors and heard the old hinge creak. He stepped into his dark, candlelit yurt. Only silence and emptiness met him.

  “Narayani?” Caio forced a difficult swallow. “Narayani?” He felt the beds for her, finding nothing, then hurried back outside. The men were standing again. Caio addressed the same man, “Where is she?”

  “My Haizzem, she was taken at the direct orders of the king.”

  “Where? By the gods, where?”

  Another soldier spoke up. “She was awarded to Pexaro.”

  Caio’s gut split apart, as if a crevasse opened through his insides. He bent over and vomited on the ground. Two soldiers scrambled to check on him while another rushed to get a cloth and water to clean him.

  “When did this happen?”

  The soldiers hesitated.

  “I asked you a question!”

  “This morning,” one of them offered.

  His father ignored Pexaro’s lecherous sins because his province recruited so many young men for Rezzia’s armies.

  Caio took the clean cloth from the soldier and wiped his mouth. He drank from the offered waterskin and spit on the ground, his mind filling with rage. He began to run back to the tent where his father was dining, beset with nauseating pangs of betrayal. He heard the footsteps of the soldiers following him, but couldn’t bear to look at anyone.

  Someday you will understand that fathers must do what they believe to be best for their children, his father had told him.

  Men fell to their knees and onto the ground as Caio ran through the camp, but he didn’t stop for any of them.

  Remember that I have a duty to uphold our proud lineage, his father’s words careened around his skull. You remember that.

  Indignity flew through Caio’s veins.

  He entered the dining tent and saw his father across the space, sitting between Manto and Alimene. Men began falling to the ground in respect. Quiet followed the chatter.

  “You betrayed your own son?” Caio yelled across the assemblage.

  His father stood, putting his hands on the table and shaking his head.

  “You can forget your cursed war! My soldiers are leaving this valley.”

  Before, the quiet still included rustling feet and bodies. Now, the silence hung over them like a smothering fog.

  “Don’t make this about yourself, Caio. Think about the good of Rezzia.”

  Caio ran toward his father’s table. “You betrayed me!”

  “I do what I believe is best for my kingdom, whatever is for the glory of Lux Lucis.” His father threw down his spoon. It bounced off his wooden plate and landed on the ground.

  “Handing over innocent young women to corrupt slobs? Whose divine glory is served by that?” Caio noticed his balled fists as he leaned forward.

  “You will speak to me with respect!”

  “I will not! You are fortunate we are related.”

  His father’s face burned red, heaving with vigorous breaths.

  “Then you are going to let your sister rot in a Pawelon prison?”

  Mya, cool my fever. “My sister is there because of you. What if they have done to her what you did to the Pawelon girl?”

  “Do not speak of such a thing!”

  “You will free the Pawelon and bring her to me. You will never harm her again. Her welfare is my province—never yours. Agree!”

  “Son, I am freeing you from her grasp, before she kills you, just as she got your sister stabbed on your own spear.”

  That was Ilario’s spear! “Go do what is right and do it now. If you don’t, not one of our men will march back into that valley to fight your war. Not a single one but you.”

  Caio turned and walked away.

  “I will give the whore back to you.” His father’s dejected words soured the uneasy silence. “She will be your prize then.”

  Caio’s stopped. He turned and locked eyes with his father once more. “Never call her that again.”

  His father stepped around the table. He lowered himself, first to his knees, then placed his head and hands on the ground. He stood slowly. “Will you forgive me, my Haizzem?”

  Caio moved his gaze across the shocked faces of the hungry men surrounding him.

  “No.”

  Narayani lay nude, curled on her side, on a dirty rug inside the accursed Rezzian tent, staring at the sagging, white ceiling. The men behind her continued laughing and bragging about the number of times and ways they’d violated her. She tried again to focus on Aayu’s mantras, nearly visualizing the first syllable, but again her anguish ruined her concentration.

  Commotion, outside. Yelling. Door flaps opened. Many more men entered. Many more.

  No more!

  “Stand!” a gruff Rezzian voice commanded her.

  Her arms and legs shook from the trauma, but she leaned her weight onto her forearm and tried to sit up with her legs folded beneath her.

  Two soldiers grabbed her arms.

  “No more!” she cried. Please kill me.

  The fat Rezzian, the leader inside the tent, argued with the soldiers. She overheard the soldiers respond, “We come at the king’s direct orders.” The argument continued as they dressed her in her robe and carried her out of the tent.

  She screamed in tortured bursts as they carried her, wailing out her suffering like vomit from her deadened heart. Her eyelids squeezed shut and she hoped they’d stay closed forever.

  “Narayani?”

  Caio?

  Facing her, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “I am going to help you.” He yelled at the men carrying her, “Bring her in here. Put her on my bed.”

  The door slammed after the gruff men put her down and she sobbed. Caio knelt beside the bed, his face next to hers.

  “I am going to take care of you now. I promise, no one will ever harm you again.”

  “Kill me.” She could barely speak through her crying. “Please. I don’t want to live anymore.” Her lips parted and quivered as she began to cry. Her eyes shut, ejecting a flood of tears.

  “I am so sorry.” Caio placed one hand over her heart and the other over the crown of her head. She felt an almost searing heat from his palms, but it comforted her. She heaved a tortured sigh and sank down, onto the bed.

  The tiny hairs al
l over her body stood up as a vibrant sensation washed over her flesh. She felt an invisible presence surrounding her, penetrating her heart, holding her. Images of lush vines flashed behind her closed eyes. The image shifted to a waterfall, pouring down on her, cleansing her body and soul.

  Chapter 76: Hades’s Dark Processes

  Earlier.

  LUCIA AND RAO HURRIED to the western gate of the citadel, away from the brunt of the storm, and waited there for the gate to be opened. Lucia waited nervously; what happened to Rao’s lady during the duel told her that this power of concealment did not work on everyone. As Rao predicted, once the Rezzian army began its march down into the valley, the western gate opened to allow some Pawelon scouts to exit.

  Lucia and Rao took the northern trail down to the valley, expecting fewer scouts along the route the Rezzian army didn’t take. Once they began their descent, they noticed the storm weakening. Lucia accepted that the goddesses’ power would be limited by her leaving the area; the gods could only perform their miracles in the presence of their devotees.

  As they walked in silence, unaffected by the weather thanks to Aayu’s help, her mind worked to catch up. So much had changed in such a short stretch of time. Their prince seemed unlike everything she believed him to be, unless even her escape had been a complicated ruse. But she found it impossible to imagine Aayu wasn’t legitimately shocked by what had occurred. If they wanted her dead, the Pawelons could’ve already done it. Maybe Rao had an unspoken plan to use her to win major concessions, but she didn’t doubt Rao really was hiding from his general’s men.

  Rao was persuasive enough to be able to trick her, but she still found herself believing in the sincerity of his ideals. The weight of that irony gripped her heart. When Caio wanted peace, Rao had wanted it, too. Lucia had rushed Caio into his first engagement as soon as he arrived, at a time when she still believed in an outright Rezzian victory. Maybe everything was her fault. Because of her, everything happened so quickly and both men assumed the other intended to fight. Neither side understood the other, and the cost …

  She wondered if Ilario’s soul had found peace with his father and mother.

  At least grant him that, Danato, you heartless monster.

  The supernatural clouds dissipated more rapidly than real clouds would have, allowing some starlight to shine down. The moon would rise later. For now she had to trust Rao to guide her down the path that he himself didn’t seem to know all that well.

  He was the first to break the silence. “I’m sure some of the things that happened when we initially fought frightened you. I want you to know my first intention was not to harm you. The first time, I wanted to defend my men. The second time, I wanted to speak to you.”

  Lucia shivered with an ill sensation. His reminder made her question herself again for trying to work with him. “I wish we had been able to finish that conversation. My father told me he prayed for me to come back. He told the gods he would retreat if they returned me.”

  “So that’s why your forces left?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that would explain why our conversation was cut short.” Rao chuckled. “Your gods didn’t give me the chance to say more.”

  Lucia stared off at the dark cliffs, forgoing any effort to understand the gods’ motivations.

  “Lucia, on the subject of your gods, I haven’t told you what happened at the duel. At least not everything.” Rao waited for her to look back to him. “I had interactions with two of your gods that day. First, Lord Oderigo and then the goddess Mya.”

  “What do you mean?” she blurted out.

  “Oderigo seemed to chastise me. We discussed metaphysics, of all things, including the origins of the gods.”

  Spare me.

  “But the most surprising thing,” he continued, “an ironic thing, is that your goddess Mya saved me.”

  “What?” again her mouth moved before she could think.

  “Your brother nearly destroyed my body. The pressure was unthinkable. My spirit left my body and I hovered, watching. Your brother held his spear over me—this was when he started arguing with Narayani—and I forgave him. I dedicated my suffering to a higher purpose and forgave him. That’s when your goddess appeared. She healed me. I’ve been trying to make sense of this. Can you tell me why she would do that?”

  Caio’s own goddess? “I told you before, I don’t understand the gods at all.”

  “Mya is a goddess of healing, isn’t she? You call her The Compassionate One?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe that’s why she responded to my, well, my prayer. Your beliefs have always seemed odd to me. I always thought they were just figments of your collective imagination. I’ve always thought it was spiritually immature, like a childish dream or a story someone wrote down and then took literally. But that childish story seemed to save my life.”

  “If you are telling the truth, all of it surprises me.” Not entirely, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “About your lady, Narayani? I’m sorry you’ve lost her. You must feel horrible.”

  Rao mumbled an affirmation. He looked away and Lucia looked off in the opposite direction to give him space. “I try not to think about her, and try to focus on what needs to be done. Do you think she’s all right?”

  “I am sure she is.” Lucia had no idea. She remembered Danato’s message. If true, then either Rao and his lady or she and her brother would not be reunited for long, if at all.

  A stray thought slithered through her mind. If she killed Rao, would it not satisfy Danato’s latest prophecy? She put her hands on the hilt of Ysa’s sheathed sword. With the prince dead, Rezzia might crush Pawelon and take their fortress. But this was a problem, too. Her father would keep pushing for more conquest and when she last spoke with Caio, he was of the same mind as her father.

  I can’t believe I have more in common with the prince of bloody Pawelon than I do with my own brother.

  “If I can help it,” she said, “you will see Narayani again soon.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’ve done some things for me.”

  He seemed nothing like she believed him to be. Rao was principled, and either brave or foolish. And he still seemed sincere. Pawelon was lucky to have him.

  “I would have hated you forever for what you did to Ilario, and a part of me always will. But it changes things, knowing that you didn’t come to hurt us, that you weren’t hunting us. Is that really the truth?”

  “Completely.”

  She could distract her mind for short stretches, but she always came back to Ilario. She could still sense his lips, see his face. But the image was a mirage, only a flash. It never lasted.

  “I am sorry for your loss,” he said. “It’s something I still can’t comprehend.”

  “Neither can I.” She heard her voice bend with emotion and regretted revealing her sorrow to him.

  “I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone. I have no idea about the depths of what you must be feeling, but I can tell you that what happened to him haunts me, too.”

  That only made it more depressing. “I am glad you still have someone, if we can get her back for you.”

  “How does it make sense that one innocent person dies and leaves others behind, while another continues? How can we live with that? You lose a love forever and life just goes on? I don’t know how to make sense of it. What would your religion say about this?”

  “You’re not asking the right person.”

  “Why not? You are the royal daughter of Rezzia. You have a divine patron.”

  “I don’t really care. I tried to protect him. I was right there next to him, holding Ysa’s shield. It did no good at all.” She was saying too much. Death was Danato’s province. She’d never understand anything under his domain.

  Rao waited some time. “I understand how hard that must be to accept. Oh, Lucia, I forgot something. Here, is this yours?”

  Unsure of what he had for her in the dark, she slowly reached out toward hi
s hand.

  “It’s a necklace I found near your armor.”

  The holy black anvil of Lord Sansone fell into Lucia’s dark palm. She clutched it and looked away, fighting off her emotions.

  “These gloves are yours, too.”

  They didn’t speak again until the moon rose and they found a place to camp for the night. A dry ravine that must have once been a riverbed gave them an opportunity to conceal themselves. They walked along the rocky ditch until they found an area with dry tree branches arching over it.

  Rao said they would have to get up very early, before the sunrise, to watch out for Pawelon patrols. They remained invisible due to Aayu’s power, but by morning the effect would expire. Making a fire would have posed a huge risk, so Lucia prepared herself for a cold night with little comfort in the desert. She insisted on keeping the sword and shield next to her and lay against the wall to hide from any scouts.

  Rao sat two paces away, facing the opposite side of the ravine. “Lucia, I’ve been wondering about something you said about that night.”

  “Go ahead.” Lucia opened her eyes. “You don’t have to look away.”

  Rao nodded and turned around to face her. It was too hard to make out his features in the dark, but she could see his mop of brown hair. “You said that your Lord Danato sent you to the lake that night. Of course, your religion says he presides over death. That part makes sense, but why would he take away someone that you and your brother both love? Don’t you believe that his duty is to watch over you, especially you and Caio?”

  “I said it before. I don’t understand them. I pray to my goddess, and sometimes she answers those prayers. Sometimes she doesn’t. Lord Danato,” Lucia hurried through a deep breath and fought the ridiculous urge to tell him more, “I don’t understand.”

  “Has he done things like this before? Has he done anything else that has hurt you?”

  Ha! “Yes.”

  “Interesting. Things that didn’t involve death?”