“They have a great deal in common, a powerful will, great warriors…” Allard broke into laughter. “…lots of balls…”
“Piss off.”
“If I cannot laugh in the face of my own demise, when can I?”
Nykia moved up close to Alena and they exchanged a look. After a few moments of silence, Nykia asked her, “Why are you here? You defend me like I’m your sister.”
“My sisters don’t need me to defend them,” Alena replied, eyes forward.
“But why? I’m nothing to you.”
“For a girl of the world, you’re thick in the head.” Alena stopped and looked down at Nykia. “I made an oath to my Queen and I shall fulfill it. I promised to see you back to Transalpina, alive, and that I’ll do. It’s my duty.”
They turned back and continued. Nykia said, “What of Gorias?”
“What of him?” Alena said, eyes going to the rocky ground beneath her boots.
“I see how you look at him.” Nykia glanced at Alena, but she kept looking down. “What is he to you?”
“I’d never met him before the other day. One always hears of Gorias La Gaul or sees the reliefs painted or sewn about him in school, but I never set eyes on him until he came to the tower.”
“Do you love him?”
“I said I just met him.”
Nykia cleared her throat. “And I’ve loved him truly my entire life, before I met him and the moment I set eyes on him dragging men to death on the beach.”
Alena’s jaw jutted, grinding. “He’s an incredible warrior, worthy of his legend, but he’s an old man.”
Nykia smiled. “It’s all right to care for him, many women can’t help it. It’s his--what is the word?”
“Charisma?” Alena offered.
Nykia nodded fast. “That’s good. Charisma. You can touch it a yard away from him.”
“I’m a palace guard of the Queen’s inner circle, descended of a General unable to father sons. Father made his life count by making a deal with Queen Garnet for his daughters’ lives. Rather than be pimped out as brides or sold to the cloister, they became warriors and the best cover a Queen can have. I have no thoughts of settling down and fathering a brood with a warrior 675 years older than myself.”
Like she heard little of the speech, Nykia said dreamily, “But you think of him, don’t you? It’s impossible not to.”
“What is your point?”
Nykia shook her head but couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s natural.”
“You want him for your King, don’t you?”
“Now that would be a dreamy thing for a dirty pirate girl to think on, no?” She laughed sarcastically. “I think that’d be the only thing to get me back there.”
Alena glanced back toward the ship. “We aren’t out of here yet.”
Nykia assured her, “I’ve been to Pergamus many times, relaying the dragonfire to the contacts in Transalpina. This won’t be any different.”
“The island ever float up and arrive for you before?”
Nykia’s face darkened. “I have to admit, that is strange. Pergamus Island isn’t exactly as we recall it, location-wise, but many attribute that to drunken navigation.”
Alena didn’t speak and a more sullen look formed on her face. Nykia jogged up to Gorias and slapped his elbow. She turned and saw Alena watching her and a chill flittered across her arms.
*****
Nykia said to Gorias, “I’ve met some strong women but that one…hard as some men I’ve met.”
Gorias agreed. “She’s all woman.”
She pondered the look on Gorias’ face when he said that, decided against thinking on it longer and said, “Her sisters all serve the monarch, correct?”
“Her personal guard, yes.”
“They will serve any heir, then, or monarch?”
“Who can say if Prince Vincent will feel protected by such ladies? Hell, I would, but that’d be like putting the wolf behind a wall of bitches in heat. Vincent may change the guards. Garnet did in favor of these ladies, knowing they’d all die for her.”
“That’s a helluva code.”
“Still, it’s a code. Mine has changed a lot over the years. Ya gotta if ya wanna stay alive.”
“Would they serve Vincent?”
“I don’t see why not, but I doubt they have concubine on their list of ethical behaviors.”
“Would they serve me if the old gal drafts me as her heir?”
Gorias glared at her for a moment. “That ol’ gal has plenty of starch left in her collar and was always a great lady, even as a girl. She had that, well, strength and all that stuff. It can’t be taught. Well, maybe it can. She’ll try to school you in it, I suppose. I’d listen if I were you.”
“You think I should take up palace living?”
“Why not? You’ve had your time as a slave, a warrior and all that. It’ll help make better choices later in life.”
“But I’ll have you at my side.”
“Listen, sister…”
Nykia reached out and clasped his hand. “I won’t let you get away again, Gorias La Gaul. You’re mine and I intend to keep you.”
“Let’s talk about this when and if we get off this rock alive.”
*****
Nykia hung back and talked to a few pirates, but Allard stepped up, muttering to Gorias, “Has it all figured out, doesn’t she?”
“Good ears on ya, old fart.”
“You should take up palace living.”
“Piss in your hat. She’ll never keep me.”
“She’ll try.”
“Her and what army?”
“The Transalpinan one.”
Gorias sighed. “Yeah, I reckon she will at that. I hate this long walk. I hope Traveler is alive back there on the mainland.”
Allard looked around them at the party walking the long rocky trail toward the spires ahead. “Gorias La Gaul, why is it you do what you do?”
“You fuckers all want a story, huh?”
“Sure.”
“One really doesn’t plan to live to be 700. Even in this age of men who can live for centuries, it’s not something ya think on while younger. I hear there was a bastard that made it to near a thousand. Can ya image how boring that musta got?”
“I’m sure.”
“He probably was a godly man, clean living and all that. But hell, in that case, I shoulda never broken 200. I didn’t really have a tragic life, but I hear my birth was marred with drama…not on my part. My father carved me from my mother before she could sacrifice me.”
“I thought your mama was nobility?”
“Have ya ever met a noble that didn’t get weird later in life? Anyways, I grew up in a more tribal area, not barbarian bad, but danged close.”
“I heard you’re from Thule.”
“Well, not all stories are exactly true. Aside from the fighting and raiding, we farmed quite a bit. No one ever hears about that. I even went to the bigger lands to get educated, took part in some wrestling matches and got trained up pretty well with weapons, better than the tribesmen taught me, well, or damn near as good. Then, some asshead threw me in the arena with the national champion. I didn’t know I was supposed to take a dive.”
“What happened?”
“I killed him. He was a damned good fighter. Maybe he held back and thought I was gonna fall or was easy pickings because I was young. Still, he died, right there in front of his wife & mistresses, blood kin and bastard children. They all didn’t take it too well.”
“I bet.”
“They hanged me,” said Gorias, gazing across the rocky plain.
“Really?”
Gorias nodded. “Under my beard ya can still see a rope burn scar. The rope broke, by the way.”
“I figured as much.”
“The rule is if that happens, they have to let ya go. Well, the nobles weren’t having any of that crap, so they locked me up so they and their priest could fight it out. I never had much use for clergy, but in that case, che
ers.”
“What happened?”
“A lady of the garter came and offered me freedom if I promised to have sex with her and kill her husband, an abusive lawmen.”
“I can guess what happened.”
“A small price to pay to get to run away. She slipped me out and I slipped in her. Her ladies in waiting apparently were obsessed with preserving their virginity via the oral cure, and seemed to take it up as an addiction. That’s how she plied the guards.”
“Yes, yes…”
“Or at least distracted them. Anyhow, I killed her asshead husband with the axe they intended to use on me the next day. I got caught killing him, and had to kill the chief deputy, his buddy, the local doctor and his daughter.”
“His daughter?”
“If ya saw the bitch, ya woulda killed her too, but she was armed and swinging at me.”
“Had you ever killed a woman before?”
Gorias pondered that. “Not with a weapon. An aging whore once passed while…”
“All right, all right. What a youth.”
“I wasn’t even twenty yet at this time. I ran away after I covered the lawman’s wife. A deal is a deal.”
“I see.”
“I’ve been running ever since. I did stop a few lands over and really got book-educated. I learned from scribes and went to class, no kidding. I learned a great deal about the world from that education and those tablets in Shynar. I earned my pay as a guard and took up training swordsmen for a bit too.”
“Did you ever settle down, have a family?”
“A few times. It wasn’t me. I wasn’t any good at it.”
“Did you have children?”
Gorias’ face darkened. “Can we talk of something else? Alena wants to screw me like I was a teen and you wanna talk me to death.”
“The great whore-taker has no children?”
Gorias grimaced. “I have several. But it’s a terrible thing to produce something the world can do without. I have some grandsons that are good men. A youngun, Maddox, lives way off across the world in Shynar. I oughta go see him one of these years.”
“Why did you slay dragons?”
“I hadn’t set out to, for real, and killed the first one by accident. Those nails of theirs?” Gorias pulled up his sleeve to show the dew nail on his armor. “These things cut through their scales like paper. You’d be surprised the lengths ya go to to get what ya want. I got this armor and killed that dragon to kill someone else, but that’s another story”
“Are your swords made from the wings of angels?”
“I’m gettin’ tired of talkin’ about my life.”
*****
The group arrived at the crest of the hill and they stood on a level plain of stone.
Alena observed, “This surface is almost polished.”
Gorias mumbled, “Yup,” as he raised his head, looking at the broad spires of jagged stone spread out in a semicircle. “They look like wings, don’t they?”
Allard smiled. “Don’t tell me Pergamus is really the mountain, his wings of stone meant to hide his location from angels? Those angels need to bring along bloodhounds if they are that stupid.”
“They’re more attentive than smart-assed pirates, but no, I’m not saying that. It almost looks like a temple, really.”
Nykia wondered, “Why would he create something like that to surround himself? The God complex?”
“Maybe. Could be that he’s recalling something he saw somewhere.”
Allard chuckled. “We’re walking into a bastard version of Heaven, Gorias?”
“If I could figure his reasoning completely, I’d be further ahead of this, Allard.”
They took a few steps but all stopped when pinpricks of light appeared down in the deep darkness of a cavern stretching into the belly of the rocks.
“Well,” said Gorias and rubbed his hands together, seeing the tiny lights increase in size and give luminosity unto the robed figures that carried them. “We might as well see what passes for the throne of God, huh?”
Gorias in the lead, they walked in closer to the thirteen figures in red velvet robes, all with their faces covered, all holding a tiny orb of dragonfire in their right hands. These figures drew back, six to each side, but one remained before Gorias. This figure turned and led them into the realm of Pergamus.
CHAPTER XII
Showdown
Several of the pirates drew their swords as they followed Gorias. The ones that didn’t draw a weapon were too busy staring at the hooded figures lighting the way with balls of dragonfire. They soon broke from this stupor and armed themselves.
Allard and Nykia followed suit, taking slow steps to begin.
Alena let her hands rest on the handles of her sword and knife, but never pulled them clear of their scabbards. Gorias thought her clearly concerned about their escorts, but she didn’t let her eyes stray far from his actions.
Gorias walked casually, not slow, but not in a hurry, letting the hooded folk lead them and illuminate the path into the inner realm of Pergamus Mountain.
The temperature dropped slowly, lending a chill to his skin. Gorias noted the others shiver, but his armor kept him warm. Waves of warmth washed out from the interior, but mostly the cold air reigned. He expected no heat from the dragonfire, it being housed in balls of glass, after all.
The walls vaulted up, what he could see of them, reaching above and not smooth. They reminded Gorias of castles in the sand made by children, fingers running grooves down, deep like small trenches.
Ahead of them, the smooth flooring extended out, but soon the darkness broke more. The chamber widened, gigantic in itself, and a centerpiece became clear to any eye. They walked up to a towering image. From a distance, Gorias thought it possibly a cloaked giant, skinny on top and tapering down to a low, shrouded base, but as they came closer, he saw the image emitted light exactly like the dragonfire balls. The tower soon drew kinship to tall pine trees he’d seen in the northern lands, not unlike where he grew up. In the winter, the glistening ice crystals made the limbs appear to light up. This image reminded Gorias of similar sights during the winter solstice when some would adorn such trees with candles and shrunken heads from their conquests.
Nykia stepped up closer to Gorias, hissing quietly, “What is it?”
Gorias spoke plainly, not shielding his tone. “It looks like a tree.” He then glanced back and stopped. All of them halted as well before he spoke. “No reason to whisper. Pergamus can hear us. He’s all around, right?” Gorias shouted his last word and a vibration like thunder rippled around the room, causing even Alena to pull her sword and the pirates to wear bewildered looks.
Allard wondered, “Is this where the dragonfire comes from? It’s all over the tree, but…”
Gorias completed his thought, “But missing in places?” He walked closer to the tree but the rest hung back, save for Alena and Nykia who wandered in the gap between. “What’s in the empty spots?”
Eyes wide, marveling, Allard mumbled, “How many different types of angels are there?”
“Many argue that point, saying varied bands or divisions based on numbers of wings and duties they perform. A priest once told me that wasn’t important and that there are only two types.”
“Yes?”
“Good and bad.” Gorias took a deep breath. “That’s really all that matters in the end.”
The tree bore many limbs, but the branches had neither wooden grain nor leafage. The texture ran in scaly lines, punctuated by porous gaps. The color, black as night, held a mystery of the globes of matter in the places where no dragonfire glowed.
Eerie and beautiful, the tree held dozens of glass balls of the fire, some as large as the one the pirates wasted back at the Keep, others small like those held by the priests.
Gorias stopped, hands to his hips. “Well, I ain’t gettin’ any younger.”
They then heard the voice, a deep tone so imperious it nearly caused a panicked run by the pirates. “I’m del
ighted to perceive you again, Gorias La Gaul.”
“Wish I could agree. It’s been quite a spell.”
Pergamus’ voice echoed all around them, saying, “Not many live that know of the olden times and ways.”
“That’s why ya can dupe so many now.”
A slight pause and the deep voice agreed. “True. Human stupidity is my ally. They forget their history and thus can be manipulated into falling again, over and over, for the same lines. Child’s play, Gorias.”
“Nice tree.”
“Have you comprehended my play yet?”
“Seeing the lights missing, I’m starting to get it.”
“It’s long past time I left here, skulking about the sea and shifting my ways.”
“Taking up quarters elsewhere?”
Pergamus paused. Gorias waited for a laugh. He didn’t get one. “Not by choice.”
“I reckon.”
Nykia looked to Alena, confused, but the tall woman waved her off and even slashed across her mouth with her sword to make sure she understood that silence was a great idea.
“The end is near, well, the end for the world, for a while.” Pergamus said reflectively. “Soon, many of us on the world will cease to be, the bodies they inhabit will drown and all of their bastard children will be swept away.”
“A good flood will get rid of the problem.”
“Many of us have other plans. Many will go to slumber in crypts under the sea in balanced animation, waiting for the stars to be right and to be awakened by followers in the future. The angels will not uncover us in that way.”
“So that is your plan? To go to ground and hibernate like bears? What’s with the tree then, with the dragonfire and the rest?”
“My being, my soul and spirit feeds the dragonfire. It is the dragonfire. Each dragon carries a portion of my soul, and thus, every piece of the fire is a soul of the dead dragons you and others slew.”
“You’re moving your children into the world?”
“In a way.”
“What’s with the copies, the doppelgangers?”
“You so amuse me, so I’ll tell you. I require the souls of men, not just for sacrifice but for spies in the material world, a better form of possession and trusting against the rise of human will. Many can fight a spirit if they have faith or knowledge. These still think they are who they are and are my eyes, do my will, oft unknowingly. I use them to further my programs, to make sure my place will be ready.”
Overkill Page 23
