Easing such reflections from his mind, Gewey allowed the tension in his facial muscles to relax. After several deep cleansing breaths, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the jungle.
As dawn approached, he sat up and rubbed his neck and legs. Felsafell was squatting by the fire, staring into the smoldering embers. At the same time, Nehrutu, having managed to fall into a light sleep a few hours earlier, was beginning to stir.
“The yetulu are gathering,” Felsafell said. “I can hear them about a half mile north.”
Gewey listened, but could hear nothing. “What are they doing?”
“Blocking the road,” he replied.
“Then I suppose we should not keep them waiting,” said Nehrutu. “I am curious to meet these so-called yetulu.”
They doused the fire and gathered their belongings. Just as Felsafell had said, the yetulu were waiting for them a half mile away. More than twenty of them were gathered in a loose group. To Gewey’s eyes they looked almost identical to one another - all apart from one, who was wearing a bright red headdress of plumes.
When they were about twenty yards away, Felsafell directed the others to stop and took a few paces forward alone. The yetulu wearing the headdress did the same.
“We come...” began Felsafell, but the massive hand of the yetulu shot up to silence him.
“We do not need to speak with you, first born,” it said in a booming voice. “Cloya has told us that Darshan is among you.”
Gewey stepped forward. “I am Darshan. Who are you?”
“I am Grunyal,” he replied. “Son of Hybsal and emissary of the Creator. Why have you come, son of Gerath?”
“First tell me how it is that you know me?”
His eyes narrowed. “You trespass on our land. Furthermore, you travel with an elf. You will answer my questions.”
Gewey glanced over at Felsafell, but his eyes were fixed straight ahead and his face was expressionless.
“I seek the god stones,” he said.
The yetulu began to shift and murmur.
“And what do you want with them?”
“I need their power to defeat my enemy and save the peoples of the world.”
Grunyal huffed. “A god seeking more power. I should have expected as much.”
“How do we know that he really is Darshan?” called a yetulu from the crowd. “He could be just another half-man seeking treasure. Gods do not need the god stones.”
“My sister is right,” said Grunyal. “Why would you need them? Is the power of heaven not enough for you?”
“Heaven is closed,” he explained. “The way locked by one who calls himself The Reborn King. He has taken the power of the gods and seeks to burn the world. If you do not let us pass, he will succeed. Eventually, he will come here too. And when he does, he will not suffer you to live.”
Grunyal gave a mocking laugh. “You think us a race to be stricken with fear? You try to scare us as if we were human children? Clearly your father did not pass his wisdom on to you.”
“I tell you only the truth,” countered Gewey, trying hard to maintain a level tone.
“Perhaps,” he replied. “We will know soon enough.” His eyes fell on Nehrutu. “Let the elf step forward.”
Nehrutu positioned himself beside Gewey and bowed low. “I am Nehrutu. My people....”
“I do not care about your people,” snapped Grunyal. “I care about my own. I care about the fact that you would dare to come here. After what you have done to my kin I should....”
“I have done nothing to them,” Nehrutu interjected. “I am here simply to give aid to Darshan.”
“Do you deny that it was you who recognized our kind when you saw Cloya?”
“I do not. There are creatures that look much like you in my own land. But they are mindless beasts, incapable of speech or reason. I mistook her for one of them.”
His remarks drew angry grumbles from the assembly.
“Mindless?” repeated Grunyal. “Is that what you think?”
“I assure you that they have no speech or culture,” Nehrutu insisted. “My kin have long tried to understand them, but with no success.”
“And is it your claim that you knew nothing of our existence outside of your own land?”
“It is. In fact, I have only ever seen a Morzhash once before. And then from a distance.”
Grunyal's reaction was instantaneous. “Mind your foul tongue,” he roared. “You pretend to come as a friend, yet you curse us by naming us beast?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Morzhash!” He spat the word out like poison. “An ancient word for savage beast.”
Gewey stepped quickly in. “He meant no offence. He is my friend and a trusted ally. I beg you to listen to him. He means you no ill will.”
Grunyal's eyes bored into the trio for an uncomfortably long moment. He then withdrew a few yards to whisper quietly with the others.
“You might have been a bit more thoughtful with your statements,” Felsafell scolded Nehrutu in a whisper.
“I spoke only the truth,” the elf protested. “And I had no idea that Morzhash was an offensive word.”
“Can you hear them?” asked Gewey.
Felsafell nodded. “I do not think we are to be welcomed as friends.”
At that moment, Grunyal turned to face them. “You will come with us.”
“For what purpose?” asked Gewey.
His expression was stern. “The elf shall have the opportunity of facing his accuser. And you…Darshan. You will be given the chance to prove that you are who you claim to be.” He raised a warning hand. “Just in case you are wondering if you should try to escape, my people are everywhere. Even the first born would not be able to evade us for long.”
“We will come willingly,” Gewey said. “Just as long as you guarantee Nehrutu’s safety.”
“I will give you no such guarantees. You will either come with us now or test your skills of survival.”
Nehrutu touched Gewey’s shoulder. “I will go. If my people have wronged theirs, then it is my duty to try and make amends. I will gladly face whoever this accuser may be. And I will meet my fate if I must.”
“I will not allow you to throw your life away for something you didn’t do,” Gewey said.
“There is no other way,” Felsafell told him. “We cannot go forward without a fight – and we cannot flee. And even if we did manage to escape, we would still need to pass through the mountain again. I doubt we could make it through there twice.”
“What is your decision?” Grunyal called over.
“It would seem that we are at your mercy,” replied Gewey. “Let us hope you possess such a quality.”
Without another word, Grunyal and the rest of the yetulu moved forward and surrounded them.
“We would bind you,” he said. “But I suspect you could break the bonds easily enough.”
“You need not fear,” Felsafell responded. “We shall neither flee nor fight.”
Grunyal merely grunted before turning to face north. “It is only a short way. We shall arrive before nightfall.”
“Then what?” asked Gewey.
His question was ignored. They began moving forward at a pace that, by Gewey's standards, was nothing more than a leisurely stroll. Not a word of conversation was spoken along the way. The landscape remained a dense jungle, though they passed a number of smaller trails leading off the main path. He could see Felsafell taking note of these, and could almost feel his desire to explore them.
After a time, the road split and they headed left along a path that was far more worn and even than before. Also, the jungle here was thinning somewhat, enabling Gewey to catch glimpses of several small animals. Some resembled creatures that were already familiar to him such as squirrels, snakes, birds, and even a small pig. But others were like nothing he had encountered. One was a deer-like animal with two spiked horns and long white fur that darted in and out of the underbrush at fairly regular interval
s. There was also a creature with arms and legs and an almost human face - though with leathery skin and black eyes - that could be seen hanging upside-down from a clawed foot. Its movements were impossibly slow and fluid. He particularly wanted to ask about this, but knew it best to remain quiet for the time being.
Nehrutu did not appear to be at all concerned about their circumstances, and continued along as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Perhaps he has now come to terms with his loss of the flow, Gewey considered. Then a darker thought occurred. Perhaps he is carrying the resolve of the condemned. Gewey had seen it before. The peace and tranquility of men and elves who were faced with certain death – their fears gone and ready to accept the end.
The path split several more times, during which Gewey could not help but marvel at the diversity of their surroundings. Along with further sightings of unusual creatures, the flowers seemed to change every few yards, each new bloom more vibrant than the last. Their fragrances filled the warm air, some of them so intensely that he found himself becoming lost in memories that he had not thought about in years.
“We are here.”
Grunyal’s voice snapped Gewey's mind back to the present. He looked ahead, and at first was confused. There didn’t seem to be anything there other than more jungle. But then, as he watched in amazement, the trees and vines parted, allowing them to pass by with ease.
“The forest obeys you?” he asked, breaking the long silence.
“No,” Grunyal replied, a tinge of disgust in his voice. “But I am not surprised that is how you would see it. We are not masters of the earth and wind. We are its brothers and sisters.”
They continued on for a few more yards before stopping. Almost at once, the ground began to rumble and shake. A few seconds later, a stairwell leading down into the depths of the earth opened up directly in front of them. While Felsafell simply raised an eyebrow and nodded with approval, Nehrutu and Gewey could only look on in further astonishment.
“Every time that I think the wonders of this world can no longer surprise me....” murmured Gewey.
The stairs continued on down for more than three-hundred yards, eventually taking them to an immense hall, the ceiling of which glowed with veins of pale blue light. The floor, though fashioned from the rich, black, jungle soil, was as smooth as marble. Set into the walls of this vast, circular cavern at regular intervals were high-arched hallways leading to a variety of other locations.
They entered the hallway directly opposite and continued on until reaching a much smaller, oblong-shaped chamber. On either side of this were doors that looked to have been made from tightly compressed tree roots – though no handle was visible. Grunyal approached the door to his left. As he drew close, with a great cracking sound, the roots parted in the middle.
“Wait in here,” he commanded.
Gewey, Nehrutu and Felsafell obeyed. The moment they were all inside, the roots snapped shut behind them.
They were now within a rectangular chamber, roughly ten feet by twenty. Several large wicker chairs lined the earthen walls, and a sturdy wooden table had been placed in the center. Gewey moved across to take a chair and found that they were far heavier than they looked. Clearly, they had been made to accommodate the extra size and weight of the yetulu. He dragged one over to the table; the other two did the same. As they waited for whatever was might happen next, only Felsafell did not look like a small child sitting in his father’s chair.
“It’s as if they used the flow to build this place,” said Nehrutu.
“Perhaps they did,” offered Felsafell.
“Then why can’t I feel it,” he asked.
Felsafell looked thoughtful for a moment. “It seems as if this place has been deliberately hidden from the rest of the world. Unassailable mountains - a hidden entrance - and a labyrinth of caves guarded by deadly giant lizards…”
“But who hid it?” wondered Gewey.
“I think we will find that out soon enough,” said Felsafell.
They waited quietly for more than an hour. During that time, try as they might, none of them could hear anything from beyond their holding chamber. Gewey was growing impatient and about to test the door's strength when another loud crack announced that it was opening. In filed three yetulu. They each picked up a chair and sat across from their captives.
Though to Gewey’s eyes they looked identical, he somehow knew that two of them were Cloya and Grunyal, even though Grunyal had now removed his headdress. The trio simply sat and stared for more than a minute, all the time making him feel increasingly uncomfortable.
At last one of them spoke.
“You are here to answer for the crimes of your people, elf,” The voice confirmed that the yetulu in the center was indeed Grunyal. “I have brought your accuser before you.” He briefly motioned to the yetulu on his left. “This is Yasir. Cloya is also here in order to question you on behalf of our people.”
Felsafell nodded. “You say he is to answer for crimes. Are we to assume that his guilt is not in question?”
Grunyal gave a sharp nod. “It is not. Yasir has witnessed what his people did to mine.”
“I will submit to your judgment,” said Nehrutu. “But first, I would know why I am to be judged.”
“You will not meet your fate in ignorance,” assured Grunyal. “We are not savages.”
Cloya leaned forward. “It was clear to me when I heard you name me Morzhash that you had encountered my people before. This you cannot deny.”
“Nor would I try to,” Nehrutu said. “But as I told you, the Morz…the yetulu of my land are nothing like you. They have no culture or civilization that we have ever seen.”
“Because you took it from us!” roared Yasir. With teeth bared, his sudden outburst reverberated off the walls. “You murdered us! You burned our bodies, laughing while our children screamed and begged you for mercy!”
“Calm yourself, my friend,” said Grunyal. “You will have your chance to speak.”
Unmoved by this display of temper, Nehrutu remained silent with his hands folded in front of him.
“How is it that I have no knowledge of your people?” asked Felsafell.
“You did once,” Cloya told him. “But the memories were taken from you.”
He sat back in his chair. “Taken? Why? And by whom?”
“Gerath took them from you, as he did all other people, in order to protect the yetulu from their barbarity. It was he who raised the mountains from the earth that now surround us. He warned us never to leave lest we be faced with the hatred and cruelty of the humans and elves.”
“But why take my memories?” Felsafell pressed. “I am neither human nor elf.”
“And yet you feel a kinship with them both,” she countered. “Your race was already doomed when Gerath came to us. You had grown old and weary. You were despondent over the loss of your children and cared little for the happenings of the yetulu. Most of you had never heard of us, and those who had, lost the knowledge when they became spirits. Soon they were all gone. All but you, Felsafell. You, and you alone, remained unchanged.”
“You speak as if you know me,” he remarked curiously.
Cloya gave a mocking smile. “You think yourself so wise, and yet your mind is so easily manipulated. In truth, long ago you would visit our people quite often. There was even a time when you were most welcome among us.”
Felsafell furled his brow and stared into Cloya’s eyes, as if by doing so he might find his memory hidden within.
“Don’t bother, first born.” she said. “Gerath stripped your memory of us completely. He could not risk you telling the rest of the world of our existence.”
“Are you saying that you are not mortal?” asked Gewey.
“We are old,” she replied. “But not as old as Felsafell. More than that, I cannot say without permission.”
“Why not?”
“The secrets of this place are ours to keep. If humans and elves were to discover them, they would surely come here a
nd slaughter us.”
“I think you underestimate them,” Felsafell said. “True, both races have been barbaric at times. But I think you would find they are much different now from what you once knew.”
“Perhaps,” she admitted. “But it is a risk we are not willing to take.”
“Why tell us anything?” asked Nehrutu. “Certainly you must fear that we shall tell people once we depart.”
She laughed maliciously. “You seem confident that you will be allowed to leave.”
Her ominous words stiffened Gewey's attention. He listened closely as she continued.
“Your sentence will likely be death, elf. So too will Darshan’s, should he prove to be false. As for Felsafell, though we cannot kill him, we can imprison him for time without end.”
“Then if you intend to kill me anyway,” said Nehrutu, “I would like to know more about you. How did you come to be here, and how did you arrive in my land?”
Cloya looked to Grunyal, who nodded his consent.
“Very well,” she said. “Seeing as you are the condemned, I will tell you what I feel is your right to know. Once I am done, Yasir will speak. After that…then we will see what happens.”
Nehrutu nodded his acceptance. Gewey’s tension was rising. In spite of what Felsafell had told him, he could not – would not - allow things to end like this. He would find a way out. Even if it meant a fight.
“Our people have dwelled here since the time of the first born,” Cloya began. “From where we originated, we do not know. My first memories are of these jungles, as are the memories of all of us. It was here we learned of the Creator and of the well-spring.”
“The well-spring?” Gewey asked.
“You have seen what the elves call the Waters of Shajir?”
He nodded.
“They originate from this land. But here they are far more potent. It is through the well-spring that our life is maintained. Here, we know nothing of sickness and death. It allows us to become one with the land and hear the voice of the trees and earth.”
“I can understand why you would want to keep such a thing secret,” remarked Felsafell. “Eternal life and perpetual health is a temptation very few mortals could resist.”
The Godling Chronicles : Bundle - Books 4-6 Page 82
