“Your words give me hope,” said Weila. “I must admit, the elves of the desert have been alone for too long. Your arrival, Darshan, has brought us the hope of kinship.” She folded her hands and bowed her head. “I think that perhaps your arrival has saved us. A people cannot live without moving forward. We have become too set in our ways.”
Gewey reached out and touched her shoulder. “Darshan is a name given to me by a God. And yes, I am his son. But my father was a human. He raised me, and taught me to be the man I am. He named me for his father...Gewey.”
Weila’s face twisted as she tried not to laugh. “Gewey is a silly name for a savior.”
“Gewey is a human name,” he countered. “It will be the human in me that fights the Dark Knight. And I will either defeat him, or be destroyed. And should I win. If I somehow find a way...nothing will change. Your people will still be in the desert.” His gaze shot to Aaliyah. His passion swelled. “Your people will still be across the sea. The world will still be the world. Humans, elves, and even the Morzhash. Nothing will change. Once there is victory...what then? What will you do with the world you are given?” The flow was raging through him as his voice roared. He calmed his spirit and closed his eyes. His frustration and anger grew. He reached out desperately. Aaliyah was there. His spirit had flown straight to her.
“Calm your storm,” Aaliyah whispered. “I am here.”
Gewey shot an accusing glance. “You—I—” His eyes fell. “I don’t know why I said that. I suddenly felt angry. I am sorry.”
A tear spilled down Aaliyah's cheek. “There is no need to apologize. I could feel your passion. Your true nature is beginning to assert itself.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You are what your nature has made you,” she explained. “Your human side is only one part of you. The Gods are the most powerful beings ever created. And their feelings are equally powerful.”
“This is true,” agreed Weila. “Even in our stories, the anger, love, hate, and desire of the Gods are far beyond that of mortals.”
“Are you saying I am becoming more…God?” The idea frightened him.
“Perhaps,” Aaliyah replied. “I cannot say for certain. But I feel that you are changing.”
“What do you mean you feel it?” asked Gewey.
“When you saved me, it created a bond between us,” said Aaliyah, smiling sweetly. She touched his cheek. “I knew it at once. I am surprised you did not.”
“But...but,” Gewey stammered. “What of Nehrutu? And what of Kaylia?”
“What we share is different,” she explained. “When you touched the essence of my spirit, I became a part of you.” She could see Gewey’s discomfort. “Do not fret. As far as I can tell it has not interfered with your connection to Kaylia. And as far as Nehrutu is concerned, that time between us has passed.” The mention of Nehrutu brought sadness to her voice.
This did little to ease Gewey’s mind. “Please release your hold on my bond with her.”
“You could do this on your own, I suspect.” She sighed and nodded. “But very well. I will do as you ask.”
Suddenly, Gewey could feel the barrier being lifted. Instinctively, he reached out for Kaylia. She was there. Joy and rapture rushed through him, as they became one. The longing was over. He was with her.
Aaliyah was almost unable to shake him out of his communion before they arrived at their destination. Weila led them back to the surface. The sun was just going down and Gewey could taste the salty sea air. Three hours later they were back at their boat. Gewey and Aaliyah said a heartfelt farewell to Weila, then made their way back to the ship. The crew cheered wildly as they climbed on deck.
“Tales will have to wait until tomorrow,” announced Aaliyah. “We are both weary from travel.”
That night Gewey washed and slid into bed, excited that he could contact Kaylia once again.
“I envy her fortune,” said Aaliyah, as she lay down and pulled the blanket tightly around her.
Gewey looked over. “I am the fortunate one. And not only because of Kaylia.”
Chapter 22
Kaylia ran through the halls of Valshara, nearly knocking over several people as she passed. When she reached the healing chamber, she threw open the door. Nehrutu was treating a wounded soldier who had been hurt building the gallows.
“You look happy,” remarked Nehrutu, offhandedly. “Has something happened?”
“Aaliyah released her hold on Gewey,” she replied, speaking and laughing at once.
“That is good,” said Nehrutu. “Were they successful?”
“They were,” she replied. “They are returning as we speak. Better still, Aaliyah has given up her quest for Gewey's heart.”
Nehrutu nodded. “Then you have won. You should be pleased.”
“I am.” She knelt beside Nehrutu. “This means you can be with Aaliyah again.”
“Perhaps,” he replied, skeptically. “I would first like to know what happened to sway her. She does not give up easily. That she abandoned her aspirations for Gewey does not mean she wishes to return to me.”
The door opened and Selena entered. Her face was dark with worry. “I have received a message from the one called Yanti.”
“What does it say?” asked Kaylia.
“He is demanding the release of his soldiers,” she replied. “He claims that he occupied Valshara by order of King Halmara. He says that Valshara rests within the borders of his kingdom and not that of King Lousis.”
“Do you think there is any truth to this?” asked Nehrutu.
“I don't know,” she replied. “But if there is, King Lousis may be in danger. We must warn him. The council will be meeting any day now.”
“Yanti may be trying to draw you out into the open,” Nehrutu suggested. “If you leave these walls you will be vulnerable.”
“I agree.” She furled her brow. “I have already sent a messenger. But if what Salmitaya says is true, Yanti is powerful. If he defeated my son, he will be able to stop a messenger from getting through easily enough.”
“There is nothing to do but wait and see,” said Nehrutu.
The door flew open and Matrus, one of Selena's personal guards entered, looking pale and anxious. “High Lady. There is someone requesting your presence at the gate. He says his name is Yanti.”
Selena's eyes shot wide. “I want archers on the wall at once. Tell them to not let him out of their sight.”
“A bold move,” Nehrutu mused. “Or he does not fear us. Will you speak to him?”
Selena thought for a moment. “I will.”
“But high lady—” objected Matrus.
“Don't worry,” said Selena, smiling. “If this Yanti fellow makes a move to harm me, it will be his last. No, I think if assassination was his goal he wouldn't simply walk up to the gates.”
“Still,” Nehrutu interjected, “you should keep your distance. I will accompany you.”
“As will I,” added Kaylia, thumbing her knife.
“Now, go,” Selena said to Matrus. “I want archers on the wall in five minutes.”
Matrus spun around and sped off.
Selena allowed enough time for the archers to get into position, then made her way to the front gate. A few yards from the entrance stood Yanti. He was dressed in an elegant, red shirt, black trousers, and a black, satin jacket with polished gold buttons. A red, leather belt, held a beautifully crafted gold hilted rapier. His brown, curly hair was oiled and pushed back in true noble fashion. As they approached he flashed a broad smile and bowed low.
“Thank you for seeing me, high lady,” said Yanti.
“What is it you want, Yanti?” asked Selena, trying to contain her anger.
“As my message said,” he replied, “I want my men. Oh, and Salmitaya, if you please.” He spoke her name as if it were an afterthought.
“Your men are to be hanged,” said Selena. “And you will never see Salmitaya again.”
Yanti laughed and wagged his fin
ger. “There is no reason to hang my men. They are not criminals. And as for dear, sweet Salmitaya...what possible use would you have for her? She has no information useful to you.”
“Your men are criminals,” she shot back. “They broke into my home and slaughtered my people. This is the act of thugs, not soldiers. And they will be treated as such.”
“They acted on orders of the lord of this land, my love,” said Yanti. “Your temple's very existence is in clear violation of the laws of King Halmara, and the city of Skalhalis. I simply carried out the will of a trusted ally. Your quarrel is with him, not me, not my men, and certainly not poor Salmitaya. If you release them to me, we can all put this unpleasant business behind us.”
“You waste your breath,” barked Selena. “And my time. You think you can come here after what you have done and dictate to me what I must do?”
Yanti sighed and shook his head. “I thought you would want to prevent further bloodshed, my love. I shudder to think what King Halmara will do when he learns what has happened here. Especially, if you were to execute my men.” He glanced up at the archer on the wall. “And please do not think to harm me. Should anything happen to me, the consequences to King Lousis would be...severe.” His smiled widened. “And you should know that your message to the King was not received, though I assure you that your messenger is unharmed...for now.”
Selena face turned red with fury. “If you harm him—“
Yanti held up his hand. “Fear not, my love. I am not an animal. I only take life when I must. After all, I did leave your beloved son alive, did I not? I’m sure Salmitaya told you of our little scuffle.”
It was all Selena could do not to order the archers to fill Yanti with arrows. “You should be glad you did. Or I swear your false king would hear you scream all the way in Angrääl.”
“I admire your passion,” said Yanti. “It is a shame you have chosen to be an enemy of the Reborn King. Your fall will cause me great sadness.”
“We shall see who falls,” she said, clenching her jaw. “If there is nothing more, you should leave, before I decide to do something...rash.”
“I will leave when the matter of my men is settled,” said Yanti. “Release them by sundown and I will send word to Althetas to allow King Lousis to live. Do it not, and he will surely die.” He bowed again. “I will await your favorable reply.” He turned and strode off.
“Do you think he is telling the truth?” asked Kaylia. “Do you think he has the means to assassinate the king?”
Selena watched as Yanti disappeared around a bend. “I don't know. But I don’t think I can take that risk.”
“And what of Salmitaya?” asked Nehrutu.
“No matter what happens, she will remain here,” Selena replied, with determination. “I gave my word that she would not be returned to that brute, and I will keep it.” The words stuck in her throat. She knew what must be done, and it stabbed at her heart. “Prepare the prisoners for release. But see to it they leave with nothing more than their underclothes. Pile their possessions in the center of the yard and burn them.”
Selena went to her quarters and sent for Salmitaya. A few minutes passed and a guard arrived, with Salmitaya in shackles.
“You can remove those,” Selena ordered.
Salmitaya sat across from Selena, her face expressionless, hands folded in her lap.
Selena told her about Yanti. “I told you I would not allow you to be taken, and I will keep my word. But I need to know—”
“You need to know if he has someone near King Lousis,” said Salmitaya. “I would think he does. In fact, I'm certain of it. And if he says he is allied with King Halmara, I would think that is true as well. Yanti lies, but he mixes lies with truth. I also know that if you do not do as he requests, he will make good on his threats.”
“I will release his men,” said Selena, sternly. “But I will not turn you over.”
Salmitaya shook head and chuckled softly. “If you do not, he will make good his threat. Lousis will die.”
“He may do that regardless,” Selena countered.
“No,” said Salmitaya, “He will hold to his agreement. At least until his men are away. By then you may be able to warn the king.”
“Why would he care about a few hundred soldiers?” she asked.
“Who knows?” Salmitaya bowed her head. “It is not out of a sense of responsibility to them, that much is certain. Whatever the reason he is not one to bluff. If he says he will kill Lousis, you can count on it.”
Selena stood up and poured two cups of wine. Offering one to Salmitaya, she stared thoughtfully into the woman's eyes.
Salmitaya held the cup under her nose, savoring the sweet scent. She closed her eyes as the wine passed over her tongue. “I remember when I was a novice, I would sneak away to the tavern to drink wine and listen to the musicians with my friends. We were always so afraid we’d get caught…but it just made it that much more fun.” Her body relaxed. She could almost hear the songs, and the laughter of her fellow novices. “Things were so much simpler then.” Her eyes grew heavy, as the sound of breaking glass seemed distant. So very far away. Yes, that's what she wanted. To be far away.
Selena called the guard. “Have her body wrapped in linen and given to the captives when they are released.” She leaned down and pushed the hair from Salmitaya's face. “I'm sorry.”
Chapter 23
For six days, the kings and queens of the twelve city states had been arriving. Only King Halmara was still absent. The presence of elves had caused more than a few nervous stares. King Lousis had made a point to greet each new arrival with Theopolou and Ertik at his side. Co-existence with elves was common in most of the twelve cities, but only in certain areas. And never as welcome guests in the house of the king. But even the elves didn't cause as much of a stir as Ertik, a representative from the High Lady of Valshara. Speculation ran wild as for his reason for attending.
Theopolou spent his time exploring the king’s library, reading about the history of the twelve cities. Mohanisi spent most of his time with Linis, who was busy preparing to journey to Sharpstone. From time to time Theopolou would be approached by the kings and queens, and asked about the goings on of the elves. Word had already spread about the battle in Valshara. Most could scarcely believe human and elf had fought side by side. Theopolou politely answered their questions.
By the seventh day, it had been decided to proceed without King Halmara. That night there would be a banquet, then in the morning the council would meet.
A few hours before the banquet, Theopolou returned to his quarters. The flood of questions had steadily increased until the very thought of another conversation caused him to cringe. As he settled into a plush chair and opened a book, there was a soft rap at the door.
He sighed and closed the book. “Come.”
It was Linis. “I want to speak to you before I leave for Sharpstone. Mohanisi is still exploring the city and says he will not be joining you for the banquet.”
“Your company is welcome,” said Theopolou, smiling. “I wish my presence was not required or I would join Mohanisi. Have you spoken to Lord Ganflin?”
“I have,” he replied, taking a seat beside Theopolou. “He is providing me with two dozen men and ten thousand gold, to aid Millet and Dina. He has already sent word to Lord Broin, and I hope to get his help as well.”
Theopolou nodded approvingly. “That is good. You should have enough to raise a sizable force.”
“I hope to send for elves soon,” said Linis. “But I think it best to prepare the people of Sharpstone first. Most people along the Goodbranch have never seen an elf, and only have heard stories of the Great War to form their opinions.”
“I am certain you can ease their fears,” said Theopolou. “When the time comes, send word, and I will send as many as can be spared.” He could see Linis’ expression darken. “What is it?”
Linis sat. “I have heard some disturbing news. The human, Maybell, has just arrived in t
he Temple of Ayliazarah, here in Althetas. She was a priestess in Kaltinor and traveled with Gewey and Lee, when I first met them. I am told she was accompanied by Malstisos.”
“I know of him,” said Theopolou. “His father and I fought together in the Great War.”
“He has left Althetas to go north to the Steppes.” Linis paused. “To face judgment.”
“For what purpose?” he asked, taken aback.
“I do not have enough information to say for certain,” said Linis. “But I think you should speak to Maybell.”
“I will send for her after the council meets.” Theopolou stood. “And you should not delay any longer, my friend.”
Linis got to his feet and sighed. “It seems I am ever traveling. But, you are right. Every moment is precious. Farewell, Theopolou. May the Creator bless you.”
“And you,” he replied, smiling.
Once Linis left, Theopolou sat back down and tried to clear his mind. He felt age gathering upon him as he thumbed through the pages of his book. The journey to the Steppes weighed heavily on his mind, and the fact that Malstisos had gone to face his judgment could complicate matters. He put the book down and slipped into bed. A bit of sleep would do him good.
A few hours later, he rose and dressed for the banquet. The king’s manor was vast and boasted a dining hall large enough to seat more than two-hundred guests. It had been built just after the Great War. It stood three stories high, and was constructed from hard, black stone, quarried from the lands just south of the Steppes. Though the décor was not elaborate, it suited the personality of Althetas and its people. Tapestries of great warships and valiant warriors hung on the walls of the larger room, alongside paintings of former kings. There were also sculptures of various lords and heroes. The furniture was diverse, as one would expect from a port city. Examples of styles from all over the world were found in every room. Theopolou even spotted a few tables and chairs of elf make. He had seen paintings of the original building. It was much smaller than what stood presently. He was told that each new king adds a little bit to the manor.
The Godling Chronicles (Shadow of the Gods, Book #3) Page 26
