“Then there is only one way,” said Melek. “Only one way to end the madness and never ending cycle of destruction.” There was a long pause. “The Creator must not be allowed to return.”
Gewey leaned back, his anger lessening as the magnitude of what Melek was saying sank in. He means to kill the Creator.
Again Melek refilled his glass. And again Gewey drank deeply, his hands almost trembling from the desire to taste the sweet liquid.
Melek eased his chair back, away from the table. “And if that is so? Would you still fight by my side?”
The growing displeasure on Melek’s face pained Gewey, but he had no idea of how to respond. “It’s just that I don’t understand why you would want to do that. Why would you wish to see the Creator destroyed?”
Melek rose to his feet. His unassuming frame suddenly appeared to grow in stature, becoming menacing and powerful. His voice boomed out, shaking the walls of the small house.
“I served her for uncountable centuries. I cared for every one of her precious creations. I loved her without question. Where was she when I needed protection? Where was she when my children betrayed me?” His voice rose to a crescendo. “Where is she now – now that we are trapped in this flaming pit?”
The house exploded outwards, shattering with a force that sent Gewey sprawling. The desolate landscape that had once been beyond the four walls was now a raging inferno. All around them fire spewed forth from a never-ending succession of hideously misshapen rocks. The heat was so intense that Gewey cried out and covered his face. The howl of the wind was a cacophony of insane screams and pleas for help that raked at his ears, threatening to drag him along with them into sheer madness.
Just behind Melek, the ground fell away into a pit of utter darkness. Even the light from the endless fires was unable to penetrate its depths.
Melek rose high into the air, his arms spread wide. “Now do you see? This is where the Creator thinks I belong - where we belong. This is the nightmare she allowed my children to trap me within.”
Gewey looked at Melek in horror. The absolute fury of what he was witnessing struck his heart with desperation and fear.
Casting his gaze downward to Gewey’s huddled form, Melek drew in a deep breath and drifted down to earth. In an instant the house blinked back into existence, just as if it had been there the entire time.
Melek walked over to Gewey and helped him to his feet. “I am sorry if I frightened you. But I wanted you to know the reality of Shagharath. What you are seeing here – this house, this table, even me – it is all there simply for your benefit.”
Gewey allowed Melek guide him to his chair and pour him another glass of wine. “So that’s what this place really looks like?”
Melek shrugged. “To my eyes, at least. It is what I see every waking moment. It takes me great effort to keep it the way you see it now. But I did not want you to be afraid.”
“And the screams,” Gewey whispered. “Those horrible screams. They were so much worse than before.”
“More evidence of the Creator’s cruelty,” said Melek. “Mortal souls were never meant to be faced with such unspeakable things. She could save them. And yet they remain…forever lost.”
“What was that pit?” asked Gewey. The wine was beginning to settle his nerves and he held out his glass for more. Melek was happy to oblige.
“That is a choice I am faced with,” he replied. “Within the pit there is only oblivion. Should I enter it, I would cease to be. A final kindness left by my son. I can choose to end my captivity, but I must pay the ultimate price.”
A vision of the pit and the fire entered Gewey’s mind. How long could anyone stand to be in such a place, he wondered. Surely death would be a sweet release.
He felt the gentle touch of Melek’s spirit listening to his thoughts. He smiled and allowed it to comfort him.
“Many times I nearly took the plunge,” Melek told him. “But something always held be back. A faint hope that one day I would rise again - that the implement of my salvation would reveal itself.” He smiled warmly and spread out his hands. “And now…here you are.”
Gewey returned Melek’s smile. “I will not fail you.” His desire to please was rapidly growing. More than anything, he wanted to help Melek escape and exact his revenge. He would not fail, no matter the cost to himself.
“And what will you do when the time comes?” asked Melek. “When we face the Creator. Will you stand with me?”
Gewey nodded. “I will.”
Chapter 10
King Lousis dismounted his massive steed and raised an arm in greeting. Mohanisi stood at the vanguard of a thirty thousand strong army of elves from the Steppes, his expression grave.
The king spanned the distance between them with long sure strides to embrace the elf enthusiastically. Mohanisi, clearly unaccustomed to such physical displays, stiffened in response. Laughing boisterously, Lousis didn’t seem to notice.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” he said after finally releasing his hold. He gave the elf’s shoulder one final fond slap and then took another look at the army. “You have arrived just in time.” He glanced around curiously. “But where is Lord Theopolou? I thought for sure he’d be with you. I would very much like to speak with him as soon as possible. His experience in the Great War is sorely needed.”
There was a long pause. The look in Mohanisi’s eyes told Lousis that all was not well.
“Out with it,” the king commanded.
Mohanisi lowered his eyes. A look of sorrowful reverence washed over his face. “Lord Theopolou fell while freeing the elves of the Steppes from the enemy’s curse.”
His words struck King Lousis like a massive blow to the gut. He took an unsteady step backward, not wanting to believe what his ears were hearing. The person who had saved his life from an assassin’s poison, and who had most likely helped more than anyone else to unite human and elf…was dead?
“How?” he asked. Words were sticking in his throat. “How...how did he die?”
“Gather the elders and commanders,” said Mohanisi. “I would have them all hear of his sacrifice.”
Lousis nodded in agreement. “That would be wise. I would not have rumors spread as we stand at the edge of battle. Theopolou was well loved among his people. We should all hear of his fate together.”
Mohanisi gave instructions for his captains to meet with the commanders of Lousis’ army, then followed Lousis to his tent. As he arrived, the king was issuing orders that the elders gather in a small clearing on the western end of the camp. While they waited for this meeting to form, Lousis explained their situation.
“The enemy we face still outnumbers us by two-to-one, even with the addition of your people. But should Lord Chiron manage to break through in time, and with his force intact, I am certain we will prevail.”
He went on to tell Mohanisi about the enemy’s devastating new weapon they had been facing. The elf listened with keen interest, though he told Lousis he had never heard of such a thing.
“We know of certain minerals that when combined with each other will produce colorful sparks and flames. But nothing such as you describe.” He rubbed his chin. “Even so, perhaps it is something similar. I will consult with Lady Bellisia once I am finished speaking to the assembly.”
“Thank you,” said Lousis.
“I visited High Lady Selena before we marched south,” added Mohanisi.
Lousis straightened. “Is she well? Did she ask about…?”
Quickly realizing that he was sounding like a lovesick youth, he stopped talking.
The corners of Mohanisi’s mouth lifted slightly in a knowing smile. “She asked me to tell you that you must not forget your promise. She also asked that, should you put yourself in danger, I should drag you to the rear…kicking and screaming if necessary.”
Lousis chuckled. “And I assume she made you swear that you would do exactly that?”
“She did,” he affirmed. “And I always keep
my word.”
King Victis soon joined them. Though the news of Theopolou’s death did not upset him as much as it did Lousis himself, it still clearly pained him. Lousis offered his friend and fellow monarch his condolences.
Soon, a messenger arrived to escort them to the meeting, where there were now at least sixty humans and elves gathered. After greeting Mohanisi, Bellisia immediately began searching for Theopolou. On failing to find him, she noticed Mohanisi’s expression. A harsh understanding immediately rushed over her. She staggered for a moment, then allowed her young elf assistant to help her over to a soft patch of grass just in front of where Mohanisi would speak.
The crowd settled and Mohanisi stepped forward. After giving a respectful bow, he began his speech.
Everyone remained hushed as he told of his journey to the Steppes. But that quiet was not to last for long. The very moment he spoke of Theopolou’s demise, sobs and laments erupted throughout the elf ranks. Even some of the humans were clearly distressed. The few who had known Theopolou were well aware of his honor and courage. Those who did not know him were still knew of his reputation. It took nearly twenty minutes before everyone had settled down sufficiently for the meeting to continue. Even after that, there was still much whispering of prayers and stifling of tears.
At the completion of things, the crowd fell still and quiet.
“Spread the word of Theopolou’s passing,” Mohanisi instructed them. “Tell them how he died. Let everyone know of his sacrifice and courage.”
Slowly, the gathering dispersed. Only Bellisia and her assistant remained. Her face was racked with grief, with tears flowing in steady streams down both of her cheeks. After King Victis had excused himself, Lousis and Mohanisi sat beside the grieving woman. The guards moved to surround them, but one stern look from the king warned them to keep their distance.
“Tell me the story again,” sobbed Bellisia, swallowing hard. “Leave out no detail.”
Mohanisi did as asked. When it was over, Bellisia rose to her feet on unsteady legs.
“He never knew how much I truly cared for him,” she said. She spoke as much to herself as to everyone else. “Though we had been adversaries in the past, I always respected him. It never occurred to me that he might die. He seemed to me…eternal. Our eldest and most wise.”
“He was indeed,” said Mohanisi. “His song will be sung in this land, and in my own, until the stars fade into oblivion. I will personally write his tale into our books of legend so that the name Theopolou will be known throughout countless generations.”
“Thank you,” said Bellisia, drying her eyes. “Then he is indeed eternal.” She reached for her assistant. “I think I need to rest for a short while.”
She allowed herself to be led away toward her tent. Lousis and Mohanisi watched her until she had vanished into a crowd of soldiers. They then made their way to a pavilion where maps had been set up on a large, but poorly constructed table.
It seemed that their only hope for victory lay in surprise. The enemy was camped about ten miles away, and that gap needed to be rapidly closed before Angrääl had time to launch its terrible weapon. Only the elves and the cavalry possessed the speed to accomplish this, which meant that elf casualties would be high. This bothered Lousis greatly, but the elves assured him they would not sacrifice others when their duty was clear.
It didn’t take long for the elves from the Steppes to integrate themselves into the rest of the army, and before dawn they were all but prepared. The name of Theopolou could be heard throughout the camp and was quickly becoming a battle cry.
As the sun peeked over the horizon, the plans were in place. Lousis called for his horse and wished all his commanders good luck. He said a silent prayer, though he knew there was no one to hear it. Nevertheless, it gave him comfort. Spurring his horse forward to a quick trot, he made his way to the front line. Both humans and elves cheered as he passed.
Ahead was a vast hilly landscape. The enemy would be waiting atop the rise just beyond his vision. Lousis closed his eyes and took a long, steady breath. The field fell still.
A moment later the uneasy silence was broken by the sound of rapid hoof beats.
A rider approached from over the ridge. It was one of Lousis’ scouts. He motioned for his guard to let the man through as soon as he was near.
“They’ve pulled back, Your Highness,” the scout blurted out.
Lousis jerked up straight. “What?”
“The enemy is marching to the coast,” he replied. “I just received word from Lord Chiron’s seekers. The assault on his force has ceased and he is on his way. Three of his seekers report that they have spotted the enemy to the south and heading east.”
Lousis considered this news for a long moment. What could it mean? Had they given up?
A split second after this thought entered his head, he knew that it was just wishful thinking. Whatever the reason behind this retreat, it would only be so that they might gain a greater advantage later on.
Mohanisi, Victis and several others quickly joined Lousis. He conveyed to them the messenger’s news.
Every possibility they could think of was discussed. Suddenly, a flash of realization washed over Victis’ face.
“I think I know why they leave,” he told them. “Angrääl has burned every city and every port with the exception of one - Dreslin Cove, which is Tarvansia’s northernmost port. At first I thought it was merely good fortune, or perhaps they lacked the time. But now I think I can see why they spared it.”
The reason suddenly hit Lousis as well and his heart sank. “They’re landing more reinforcements,” he said.
Victis nodded. “Why else pull back unless it’s to bolster your force? As it stands they outnumber us. Should they land more men it will be an utter slaughter.”
“How far is Dreslin Cove?” asked Mohanisi.
“Less than a week’s march,” Victis replied
As he could see his hopes for victory vanishing, Lousis let out a roar of frustration.
“Perhaps this is not so,” offered Mohanisi. “There is no way to know their plans for certain. We should send seekers to investigate.”
Lousis did not want to dismiss Mohanisi’s words, but he knew in his heart that Victis’ assessment was right. “Send them,” he ordered. “But tell them to be swift.”
Without another word, Mohanisi walked away and disappeared behind the lines.
After a moment’s thought, Lousis looked to his captains. “Tell everyone to stand down but remain vigilant and at the ready.” With a snap of the reins, the king’s horse sprang to life. His guard scrambled to follow as he set off rapidly back to camp.
How could Angrääl have raised such a force? Lousis wondered while riding along. Was the world blind? Did no one take notice? Or was his enemy simply far more cunning than he could have fathomed? This final question stuck in his mind, forcing him to think back over every battle they had apparently won.
Had they really been victories? Or was it all a part of some devious grand design formulated by the Reborn King?
Back in his tent, Lousis sat heavily down, staring at the ground. What he chose to do now could very well determine the fate of the world. Darshan was far removed from this battle and could not help him. He could rely only on his own judgment. And should he fail, the young god would have nothing to save anyway, bar ashes and ruin when he returned.
A cup of wine was suddenly shoved in front of his face. Lousis looked up and blinked. He hadn’t noticed Victis enter and sit in the chair across from him.
His friend was smiling broadly. This irritated Lousis.
He pushed the cup away. “I see nothing to smile about. It would seem we have run out of luck. If you are correct – and I am almost certain that you are – then we have less than two weeks before our enemy wipes us from the face of the earth.”
Victis shrugged and took a drink. “My old friend. It is a miracle that we still live. Through sheer force of will we have fought an army, the lik
e of which has not been seen for five hundred years. I doubt the Reborn King expected to be so fiercely resisted.” He leaned forward, his smile unbroken. “You know that there is only one course of action you can now take, don’t you?”
Lousis’ irritation was turning into anger. “If I knew that, would I not already have done it?” He threw up his hands. “If you know, please don’t keep it to yourself.”
“The way I see it,” said Victis, “we could stay here and wait to be slaughtered. But where is the honor in that? His calm tone and bright expression was a far contrast to Lousis’ angry scowl. “Or we could retreat to Althetas and wait for them to burn the city down around us. But that would only get more people killed.”
“I am aware of all this,” yelled Lousis. “Don’t you think I have not thought about it already?”
“I know you have,” he replied. “And you have seen what I have seen. That there is no way for us to win. We are doomed to die. So why fight for victory if it is out of reach?”
Lousis glared at his friend with growing confusion. “So what do you propose?”
A menacing glint appeared in Victis’ eyes. He raised his cup in a toasting gesture to Lousis.
“We march. If I am to meet my end, I would have it in the manner of my own choosing. The enemy moves slowly. We could catch them before they near the coast and combine with any reinforcements. They will never expect such an attack, and that gives us the advantage of surprise. At minimum, we’ll take many of them with us before we fall.”
Draining his cup in a single gulp, Victis threw it dramatically into the far corner of the tent. “And you never know. Perhaps we will win, after all.”
For a moment or two there was silence. Lousis’ scowl gradually became a broad grin. “Guard!” he shouted.
One of his personal guards hurried inside. “Send out orders,” the king told him. “We march as soon as we can be ready.”
The guard saluted and left.
“You do know we are marching to our ruin?” Lousis said, now in a far more lighthearted tone.
The Godling Chronicles : Bundle - Books 4-6 Page 43
