Mistress of the Gods (The Making of Suzanne Book 2)

by Rex Sumner

  Will won by a short head, his point straight at the Duke’s chest. The Duke braced for impact, while the soldiers on either side struggled to add their shields to his and readied their swords to chop the lance down. At the last moment, Will swung his point up and lunged forward, squeezing through the open visor of the Duke. The swords came down, too late, snapping his lance and his horse smashed into the wall, knocking men off their feet. The light horse couldn’t stand the impact and staggered, throwing Will clear over the wall to land with a thud. In the moment he took to regain his breath, the Duke’s squire shoved a sword into his side.

  The first rank of the lancers, Jeremy with them, streamed through the holes opened by the archers, widening them as they speared the men on each side. Their passengers couldn’t resist the falling apart of the wall, leaping onto staggering soldiers, sharp knives finding the seams of the armour or the slots in the visors. The wall descended into chaos, one naked girl impaling herself on a sword and hugging the soldier to her blue bosom while another ripped his eyes out with her nails. Many of the girls swept up swords, but Midir and his Pixies plus the huge Uightlanders and brawny local boys did the real damage, swinging huge hammers from their work in the foundries, which thumped onto armour and broke bones and heads. A far more effective weapon than any other, especially in the hands of a muscled lout gone berserk.

  The rest of the lancers stayed out of the melee, circling round the back and scything down any who fled. Lionel lost his hag, who leapt into the writhing throng with a screech of ecstasy. She grabbed a sword from the floor and started hacking at something. The speed with which the wall disintegrated was staggering, less than five minutes for the imported nobility of the Hardenwall to die.

  Aether

  Green light poured through the moss curtains, twitching at Susan’s eye lashes till she blinked awake. Her head buzzed, her groin throbbed and her ears rang with thunderous, god-like snores. Her womb sang to her, full and bloated with the spiritual power of a God.

  Memories flooded back, and she looked with distaste at the mug lying against the earthen wall of the cave-room. She eased a leg off the side of the fur covered lump that constituted the War God’s bed, and froze as the snore cut off in mid-exhalation.

  A bedraggled Crom raised his fearsome head to gaze at his prize, satisfaction radiating from him like a dog with an entire leg bone.

  Susan called up all her actress wiles, and spread her most winning smile across her face, tucking her revulsion deep inside where it would never be noticed.

  “Good morning, darling,” she said. “Shall we have another bout before or after breakfast?” She allowed the blanket to fall just enough to expose the swelling magnificence of her right breast.

  “Ummphh,” said Crom with deliberation. “You don’t like me. I wonder why. In fact, you find me revolting.”

  Susan didn’t know what to say. Crom looked stupid and bestial, how could he possibly see through her with such ease?

  “No matter,” said the God as he rose and pulled on what she had presumed to be a rug. “You will learn intelligence in due course, to look beneath the skin and see the reality. And you will learn fast, for now I am your teacher.” He strode to the door and bellowed something in Tuathan.

  “First you must learnt to speak, I am fed up breaking my jaw with Elvish. I hate that language, hurts my throat. No, no, not with sawblade. Today you learn to be a goddess.”

  He pushed through the door and she could hear him pissing in the bushes, an activity that seemed to take an age. Conscious of her own need, she looked for a chamber pot, or at least a jug of water, before shrugging and following Crom, clasping a blanket around her. At least there was a stream a few paces away, where she could wash herself, though she nearly fell in, down the steep bank to the tiny riffle. Crom laughed.

  Returning with her parts freezing from the frigid water, she perked up at the sight of fresh bread and ale arriving, ignoring the venomous glance from the serving girl who had presumably once shared the God’s bed and wished to do so again.

  Sighing at the lack of a chair, she sat on a log after helping herself to a slab of bread, and shivered in her blanket, wondering when she would be able to get to her room to change. Crom regarded her with a steady gaze as he chewed with a methodical intensity that bore a startling resemblance to yesterday’s late ram.

  “Well,” she said with a bright, forced intensity, “this has been most pleasant but ...”

  “Who conducts your training?” He interrupted, as he swallowed a chunk of bread.

  “Oh,” she said, wrong footed. “Uh, I think it is Cara at the moment, with Diane overseeing me.”

  “Cara.” The giant mused for a moment. “She can travel, but her teaching skills are not great.” He munched at another chunk of bread while Susan groped for words. He drained his horn of ale and belched before resuming. “The goddesses train you too slowly. I need you faster. Ha! Still you cannot speak the true language to understand the subtleties of our craft.”

  Nettled, Susan glared at him as she sought for something to go with the bread. Crom bellowed again, and she winced.

  “Please give me a warning before you make that infernal noise,” she began, as a girl rushed up to the God’s call and listened as he instructed her. She nodded and left.

  “I sent her for your clothes and belongings, especially your staff,” said Crom. He continued before her immediate swelling with anger could turn into words. “I’m sure you will want to make some changes to the cave, which you may do. You will move in with me now and I will conduct your training.”

  “You just command and expect me to follow? Well, think again, Buster, I am perfectly capable of deciding what I will do and who will train me, indeed whether or not I want the training.”

  Crom laughed. “Come, fiery one, we shall go say our farewells to Fiotr.” He ignored her protestations and led the way to the beach, snagging a robe from the returning Brownie.

  Fiotr slept beside the lake digesting the plump ewes and the unfortunate sheep dog that looked too like a sheep. He awakened on their approach. She touched foreheads with him, the great dragon standing high on all four legs with his long neck curved down in a graceful swan arc, his sail once more pulsing with rose and his dewlap golden.

  Susan’s tears washed his snout as they communed in silence before Fiotr turned and waddled between two lines of kneeling Tuatha de Danann, to where his son stood, arms outstretched. Fiotr paused before him, his long bright tongue flicking around his head like a flame while his thoughts belled out for all to receive.

  “Manannan, my son, I give you the lake and the sea to keep and nurture, to protect and sustain. ‘Ware the borders, lest Elves and Humans find the gates. Manannan nac Lir, await my return.”

  Manannan, son of the sea, stood tall, his hand resting on the dragon’s dewlap. “Safe travels, God of my Ancestors, God of my Descendants. May the sea be sweet and full of plump fish.”

  “Fish,” muttered the dragon, not realising he broadcast as he entered the water. “I’d rather have a nice fat seal. Not tasted one in too many years.”

  His sail stood high above the small ripples as he swam for the river that drained the lough to the sea. Susan stood watching till the last, a rose flash in the waves, while Crom went to drink a toast with Manannan nac Lir. Her head bowed, she felt Cara come up beside her and take her hand.

  “Crom has requested your release to him for training. The Goddess has assented, for he will train you in greater depth than is usual. It is an honour, few are as experienced in the travelling as Crom.”

  Susan thought about this, feeling trapped. “Why?”

  “Who knows. Maybe he senses something special in you. More likely he wants a bed-warmer.”

  Susan raised her head at the slight venom in her words. Cara shrugged.

  “Crom is not the same line of Tuatha de Danann as the rest of us. This is
probably a good thing. We needed the war knowledge of his line to survive. But it means we don’t always understand his purpose. His line is ancient, older than ours, mixed strongly with the ape-men who went before. This gives him greater strength and a deeper knowledge of the esoteric, for his kind inherit abilities which we don’t understand, let alone aspire to learn. He will be a good teacher for you. It isn’t necessary to like him, and his manners and way of living need adjusting. Good luck.”

  A sombre Crom returned, shooing Cara away.

  “Manannan never told me he communed with the dragon,” he said as he led her back to his cave. “Seems I’m one of the few who didn’t talk to him. Wonder why.”

  A Brownie arrived, with a large woven basket inside which were numerous small baskets woven from leaves, each containing flowers and food. Susan examined them with curiosity, delighting in the simple perfection of the weave.

  “We start your lessons in a moment, but first we must clear the area,” said Crom, squatting beside the basket and removing a small basket full of leaves, on each one a scrap of bread decorated with a smear of honey.

  Susan looked around for a broom, wondering how to clean up what was essentially a camp-site. There were no mouldy bones or rubbish to be seen and she creased her brow.

  Ignoring her, Crom took his basket to the edge of the clearing, laughing as he went.

  “Yes little ones, for you. Here enjoy, and listen close now, before I give you your lunch. No tricks, do you hear? Play by all means, but outside the clearing and call the Guardians if anything comes you don’t recognise. There you go.”

  He placed the basket down and watched nothing with a smile of enjoyment, for all the world as if he had just fed a load of puppies. Susan came up beside him, scanning the ground for something, anything, the hair on the back of her neck rising as she came closer.

  Crom grinned at her. “The little babies, the beginning of everything. I know you cannot see them, nor can the Tuatha though they know they are here. I see you can feel something, and that is good. They are energies, sprites, call them what you will. They are very young and there are very many of them. Over the ages they grow and become more powerful. If we treat them well, they are our friends, and not something to fear.”

  “Can they do anything?” Susan was fascinated, visions of little fairies hiding in flowers.

  “No, they are not people, or anything you can see. This one here is just a little mist, like dew above the grass. They have no form, they are only energy at this stage. And as such they can do very little to us, for they are very weak. But sometimes they can work together, and perhaps cause somebody to slip or trip. They think that is very funny, but they won’t do that to you here with me.”

  Crom returned to his big basket and retrieved four smaller baskets, each with a pile of flowers and more Elven bread. These he deposited in a semi-circle around the area. Besides each one he stopped and made some motions with his hand, flicking water over the area.

  “These are for their big brothers, who will come when we start and watch us and protect. Now sit here in the middle, on my rug. Never mind your clothes, you should be naked. No, I don’t care how you sit. You will lie down soon enough.”

  He disappeared into his cave, while Susan sat as instructed and tried to make out little energies running around the perimeter.

  Crom returned with a large mug of Goibhniu. She grimaced in distaste.

  “This is not like you have had before. This one has a powerful dose of mushrooms inside it, much more than you have taken in the past, for now we go deep, deep into the aether for your instruction. Drink it all down.”

  Susan did so, grimacing at the earthy taste barely disguised by the mead. She handed him back the mug and he smiled.

  “Now rest. It will take some time for the fractals to appear and then you will travel Be quiet and concentrate on your body, running your energies through your portals. Take great care with your crown. In a moment I will seal your heart. I trust you stored my energy last night? You learnt enough to do that?”

  She nodded, wide eyed, wondering if she had succeeded. Now she thought about it, she did feel a sense of power in her lower abdomen.

  “Fine, while you do that I shall call some friends and have them guard us and our bodies.”

  He sat in front of her, cross-legged, and his eyes rolled back into his skull leaving white glaring orbs staring at her. She closed her own, not wishing to see, and after a few moments felt his hand daubing her chest with something which she knew from some deep place inside her was not blood, but something else, something of power.

  Time stretched as Susan contemplated the inside of her mind, and she realised she was at peace and enjoying herself. This felt right, and she knew her search for fulfilment was at an end. Bright lights cascaded into her vision again, the broken crystals shifting and forming new patterns, in an ever-changing display of primary colours.

  All too soon they coalesced into a funnel, into which she soared, rising up out of her body. She looked down at herself, before feeling a pulling and she was away, appearing on a dusty plain surrounded by bouncing balls, all squeaking with excitement.

  “You came,” they cried in great excitement. “So wonderful to see you. Sit, sit, we shall teach you. Relax, surrender, feel our love.”

  She did as they bid, indeed feeling their love and allowing them to bounce into her hands, run up and down her body, around and about her. A feeling of deep peace came over her.

  “Get away from her, you little bastards.” A psychic roar shocked her upright as Crom arrived, kicking and slapping the little balls who fled screeching.

  “The Little Lights,” he said. “They are always first to appear, They feed on your emotions and energies, like most things, promising you everything and giving you lies. Everything here lies, nothing is to be trusted. These will keep you here, prevent you from going deeper and learning while they feast. And you would never know.”

  He took her hand and pulled, Susan blinking as everything shifted and they appeared in a large crystal cave where various entities walked around. She could see perfectly well despite the lack of light.

  “This is a resting place,” said Crom. “We are safe here, for most of these are of the light and strong enough not to need your little energies. Here I shall teach you Tuathan. Sit.”

  She sat and he took her jaw, looking deep into her eyes. Here in the aether Crom appeared very different, tall, strong and noble, handsome even, and something inside Susan stirred. Crom smiled.

  “Lovemaking here is the best,” he said, “but we have not the time for that now. Your forward mind is stilled here and I can pour knowledge into your hindbrain, where everything is done without thinking.”

  His eyes grew huge and he seemed to fall into her, she could feel his thoughts intruding into her brain and a rush of energies pouring down into her.

  After an age she blinked and found Crom smiling at her.

  “There,” he said. “That wasn’t difficult, was it?”

  “Oh, are we speaking in Tuathan now? It doesn’t seem different.”

  “We don’t use language in the aether. Our thoughts go direct. But when you awake, you will be able to speak Tuathan as well as I can, which I concede isn’t the best but it is enough.”

  “What is your own language?”

  “My language is the language of my forefathers and my previous lives, and hasn’t been spoken by any but my acolytes for twenty thousand years, since before the time of the Tuatha. The language of the Pre-Men, who created the world as it is today and awakened the dark forces, which consumed them. It is my geas to work to preserve the world and the light, to atone for the actions of my ancestors. And that is where you are going to help, my girl.”

  Susan digested this, trying to fit these ideas into her own knowledge of the world. Twenty thousand years? Why, the earliest story she knew came from b
arely three hundred years ago. Yet here in the aether she accepted the outrageous words of Crom.

  “Come,” he said, “let’s meet some friends. First, clothe yourself, you will be more comfortable.”

  Susan surveyed her naked form, a frown marring her brow. “How?”

  “Just imagine your favourite robe.”

  Not an easy instruction, she loved clothes. Enjoying irritating Crom by delaying him, she mentally went through her wardrobe before selecting a beautiful silk robe, lace white with a dark blue sash tying it shut.

  They moved across the crystal cave, floating rather than taking steps, to join a small circle of three entities. Susan felt their attention and welcome projected towards her.

  “Hello,” she said with a hint of nerves. “I’m Susan.”

  “A name,” said one. “How cute. I don’t believe I’ve met a being who used a name before.”

  “Oh, they are common enough. Stop being patronising. Excuse my friend, my dear, he is from far away beyond the furthest star.”

  “You are interesting,” the voice of the third appeared in her mind. “I see why our warrior brings you here. Strength I feel, but not enough for the immediate future. A gift, my child, I bestow upon you. When the time comes, you will forget all about us. In due course you will remember, but during your trials the knowledge of us will harm you.”

  “You have a vision?” Crom’s attention peaked.

  “Yes, my friend, I see a little. Her time is not now, but far in the future, a time without your presence. Yet your training is important and will save her. Here child, I give you my pet. I have groomed him for thirty of your years, and now I know why. He will live in you, a little energy, and feed from you every day, just a little. And when the time comes, he will protect you.”