CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN

by Verne, M. Scott

Eros, alarmed by news of the beast’s escape, took several steps away from the wall to call up to Panos. “Priest! I will help you find it!”

  Panos rushed to the edge of the wall to look down at Eros. He made a gesture of agreement and respect before turning to bark more orders to his men. “Equip those archers with our special arrows! Get them on this wall, now!”

  As the priests and the archers they dragged from other positions milled about above him, Eros took to the air. He stayed low, having no desire to draw attention to himself as a target. He didn’t necessarily need to see the beast to find it. He need only pinpoint emotions like those of a freed prisoner - and yes, there, near a crevasse that had split the earth - he felt eager jubilation. He also felt a thread of hunger, but he tried not to think about it.

  “Watch that winged god!” Panos commanded. “He will signal.” Panos shoved a few of the archers who weren’t standing exactly where he wanted them into different positions.

  “He’s found something!” Even Panos’s most nearsighted priest could see Eros frantically waving and pointing at the crack in the ground, and he called out the alert. The archers quickly set the magical caging arrows into their bows and prepared to fire.

  “What about the infantry?” one of the archers dared ask. A squad was running near the crevasse on their way to reinforce some other front.

  “Ignore them,” Panos said. “Just pen that beast. I don’t care if you ensnare the entire army too.” The archers exchanged nervous looks, disturbed by that command. Before they could protest it, they were abruptly shocked into action.

  “It’s coming out!” cried the squinting priest, who could just barely make out a large form wiggling from the earth.

  “Fire!” Panos shouted, realizing too late that he should not have taken the word of a half-blind underling over his own judgment. The thing that had crawled from the crevasse was not the beast at all. Their caging arrows were hurtling toward an unintended target.

  Eros ducked and rolled as an arrow zipped over his head. He heard it impact the ground behind him and wondered how an archer could miss a target the size of the beast. Turning to see if the other bowmen had done better, he was shocked to see that a different monster altogether had come from the fissure. Something that looked like a cross between a crab and an oyster was directly below him. Panos’s arrows were falling to encircle it and transforming into a cage like the one which had caught D’Molay.

  “That’s not it!” Panos roared in frustration as the red-shelled netherbeast sent by Lamasthu to breach the pits chased an unfortunate Greek soldier caught with it within the rising bars of the cage. “Reload!”

  Eros was hovering in the clear, above the spot where the magical bars would eventually knit together. A desperate scream alerted him to the plight of the man below. There was still time.

  “Keep running!” Eros shouted down to the soldier as he swooped down to grab him. Lifting the man in his arms, Eros flew quickly up. He had just reached the top of the closing cage when he felt pincers around his leg. He flapped with all his might, but the netherbeast’s hold was unshakable. His passenger looked down at the creature, eyes filled with fear, but Eros had a plan. He tossed the man onto the gridded side of the cage as near the quickly closing gap as he could.

  “Climb out!” Eros shouted. The Greek scrambled, monkey-like, along the bars until he succeeded in flipping himself to the outer side. His fate was in his own hands now, as Eros turned to fight for his own freedom.

  The netherbeast’s claws were no match for Eros’ Olympian skin, but the mere touch of the unclean creature filled him with disgust. When hunching down to pry his foot free failed, Eros realized he would have to use his arrows against it. He grabbed an arrow of Indifference from his quiver. Not bothering with his bow, he plunged the arrow’s tip through the shell of the netherbeast’s claw, piercing deep into its meat. The press of its foul pincer on his leg briefly tightened, but it relaxed and fell away as the thing lost interest in him and crept slowly toward the other side of the cage. Eros rubbed with irritation at the impression the beast had left on his leg, realizing that in the time it had taken to save the Greek and free himself the bars had closed off his only means of escape. He shot an angry look toward the ramparts, but Panos had moved his archers somewhere else. No rescue was likely to come from that quarter. He’d have to wait for Ares or Hermes to happen by and release him. On the bright side, it wouldn’t be easy for anything else to get through the magical bars to bother him. He was, quite possibly, in the safest place on the field of battle.

  Chapter 43 - Beneath the Battle

  Mazu made her way further into the fortress, unsure where to go to seek out Aavi. The priests she encountered hurried past without responding to the questions she asked in the common tongue. Perhaps the religious servants here only knew the Greek language. Mazu resolved to keep seeking the girl even if she had to learn every language and search every chamber of the fortress.

  She stepped out of a corridor into an open room, the hub of an intersection of hallways. More passages led in every direction and a grand staircase went up to a higher floor. One Greek soldier was helping another with an injured leg negotiate the stairs. Mazu recognized them as men she had saved in the pits. She followed them.

  “Don’t worry Dolates. They’ll set your shinbone and you’ll be good as new,” the uninjured man said.

  “Easy for you to say,” Dolates hissed, pain keeping his teeth clenched. “I felt better when I was drowning!”

  Mazu smiled as the men traded brotherly barbs. If she was not mistaken, Dolates’ friend wore an insignia of higher rank and was possibly his commanding officer. Not all leaders would take the time to personally see to the aid of their wounded. Mazu respected this Greek for doing so. He seemed an honorable man. As soon as he was free of his burden, she would ask him for assistance.

  The soldiers hopped and hobbled into a large room off the upper landing filled with healers and injured warriors. Several women were helping, but to her disappointment none was Aavi. She hoped she wouldn’t find the girl lying on one of the dozens of bloody, occupied pallets. As a healer hurried over to lead away Dolates, Mazu tapped the other soldier on his arm. He turned toward her, his face clearly indicating that the last thing he expected to see was an old woman from the Asian Realm.

  “Forgive me for taking your time, but as you can see I am a visitor here,” Mazu said.

  “You picked a bad time to visit,” the man said in a rush. “Sorry. I’m a little tense. I just drowned. Almost.”

  Mazu could see his nerves were on edge and her time for questions was probably limited. “Well, I’m quite glad you did not. Tell me, do you know of a girl called Aavi who may have been brought here? She is a friend of mine, and a charge of the man who tracked the beast for the Council. He is called D’Molay.”

  “D’Molay’s been fighting for us. And he was brought here with a girl. Don’t know her name, though.” He and Mazu were jostled aside as several stretcher-bearers pushed by with more wounded men. “People who need safeguarding are put in a special chamber deep inside the fort. That’s probably where your girl is right now.”

  Mazu was grateful for this news, which brought relief. Even if it was impractical to seek out her friends right away, she was thrilled that she had finally caught up with them. She thanked the soldier sincerely as another Greek of command rank rushed up to them.

  “Herikos! We need what’s left of your squad! Get them and follow me!”

  Herikos immediately obeyed the command, leaving Mazu standing in the hospital. A healer called for water. Seeing a bowl of it nearby, Mazu took it to him. She worked among the wounded, hoping that all would be well with her friends.

  * * *

  Aavi sat quietly in the stronghold as the last of the women and children squeezed in, along with a few elder nobles and several badly injured soldiers. The faint noises and distant thumps from outside had slowly grown louder as the battle raged. She shared a table with a Soldier missing an
eye and a zaftig-figured women whose painted face and red dress alerted everyone but Aavi of her profession.

  “Looks like we’re stuck here for awhile,” the buxom woman remarked. “How about introductions? I am Philomena. Now who are you two?”

  “Tymon, once a soldier of Olympus. Now just a cripple.”

  His dark hair was matted with dried blood and Aavi could see a fresh red stain seeping through the packing that filled his empty eye socket. Tymon’s clothing was cut and filthy. Anyone could see he had been in fierce battle and had barely escaped with his life.

  “You still look like a soldier to me,” Philomena said lightly. “The healers can do great things. After this battle they’ll have time to put you back together again. You’ll see.”

  Tymon reached under the table to grab something. Aavi jumped as he slammed a wooden crutch down on the tabletop. “I saw all I wanted to see when that thing with the crocodile head bit my leg off and killed three of my friends before it was put down,” he declared. “I should be up there fighting, or down in the underworld. Either way I would be with my comrades and not sitting here with the useless!”

  Philomena huffed in offense. Aavi didn’t know what to say, so as Tymon sat there sullenly she looked at his glow. It was faint, the colors faded, and it looked like D’Molay’s when he had been close to death. Her concentration was interrupted by Philomena.

  “Never mind him. What is it you do here, dear?”

  “Me? I don’t really do anything. I mean, everyone here seems to have a purpose, but I don’t know what mine is. I’ve lost my memory.”

  “Really?” Philomena seemed excited and intrigued by this mystery. “You don’t remember your past? Oh, there are things I wish I could forget!” She gave Aavi a little nudge. “But still, that must be hard. Can you even miss what you don’t know? That’s a puzzle to me. Or do you miss your memories the way Tymon misses his leg?”

  Aavi found Philomena’s way of speaking a bit confusing. She bunched her thoughts all together and dumped them on the table where they rolled around like a basket of loose grapes. “Um, I know that something is missing inside me, but I guess I do the best I can.”

  “Good for you, deary. Now what’s your name? You haven’t told us.”

  “Aavi.”

  “Aavi? The Aavi they want?” Philomena’s shocked expression was reinforced by her dramatically painted lips and eyebrows. Tymon jerked to attention upon hearing her name.

  “You,” he said coldly. “Set demanded that we give you and that damned beast to him or he’d attack. I’d still have my leg if we had! And now here you sit before us like it’s just another day? Men are dying so you can sit there! Who are you? Why are you so favored by the gods?” Tymon glowered at her hatefully. Aavi saw his glow turn blood red as he slammed his fist on the table, his crutch falling to the floor.

  “Surely they must mean someone else named Aavi. This slip of a girl can’t be of any importance,” Philomena interjected, reaching out to calm him. Aavi stood up, shaking in fear and confusion.

  “I didn’t know… I didn’t…”

  Tears formed at the corners of her eyes as the enormity of the pain and death she had brought them flooded her emotions. She bolted from the table and ran into the darkness of the hallways beyond, leaving the rest of the room’s occupants confused and uncertain as the battle raged on above them.

  Chapter 44 - A Fateful Choice

  Aavi ran down the torch lit hallway, passing guards and citizens who were seeking shelter from the fighting above. A few hours ago, the sight of a beautiful girl sobbing and running aimlessly down the corridors would have been a matter for guards to investigate. In the midst of battle, it was assumed she was just another distraught woman who had found out her lover had died defending the fort.

  It can’t be true, can it? This can’t all be because of me! The questions in her mind tormented her, repeating over and over. Aavi ran into a darkened room and tripped over some debris that had fallen from the ceiling. Her hands flew out to catch herself. She hunched on the floor for a few moments, her eyes still stinging from crying. Rolling over, she collapsed onto her back, staring into the darkness. Aavi could just make out the wooden beams and stonework of the ceiling above.

  The image of angry, sad Tymon flashed into her mind. He almost died because of me. He lost his leg and his eye because they wouldn’t turn me over to Set. Maybe they should have just given me to him.

  Slowly the cold stone floor seemed to drain the hot emotions from her body and Aavi began to regain her composure. Perhaps things would fall into place if she just thought clearly enough. She knew Set wanted her, though not the reason. He knew something important about her that he must want to use. But why did the Mayans want her? Why were the Greeks protecting her? Even D’Molay was fighting over her.

  “No, Aavi. Not everyone is fighting over you. D’Molay is fighting for you. There’s a difference.”

  Aavi gasped as her own voice came from somewhere in the darkness. She sat up and scrambled toward the sound of her own words.

  “You and D’Molay care for each other in ways neither of you understand,” the voice continued. Aavi followed the sound and stood before a pool of water rippling gently in the light of a wall torch.

  “Oracle?” she asked softly. Her image was smiling up at her from the water, just as it had at Buddha’s Retreat. “Help me. What should I do?”

  “I believe I already told you. I’ve just come to make sure you are not late. The Queen Moon is in the sky. It is time for you and your companion to leave this place.”

  “I have to make them stop fighting,” Aavi said. “If I go, will they?”

  The Oracle nodded. “Yes. See, you already know what you have to do. The beast is outside waiting for you. These halls will lead you out. Follow the water.”

  Aavi glanced away down the hallway. She saw that the Oracle’s pool was not the only water on the floor. When she looked back at the Oracle’s pool only seconds later, she could no longer see anything in it. Dismayed, for she had so many more questions, she called for the Oracle to return. The pool was just a puddle now. Aavi took a deep breath and took the next steps of her journey.

  She recognized the hallway she was now in. D’Molay had taken her this way when they had gone to visit the beast. Within a minute of walking, Aavi was ankle deep in cool, dark water. The passage walls were wet all the way to the ceiling, indicating a complete flood had struck there. But the waters had retreated, leaving the moist smell of wet earth hanging in the air. The only sounds were the dripping and splashes of droplets falling from the ceiling and the echoes of battle somewhere off in the distance. By the time she neared the chamber where the beast had been caged, the water was above her knees. Carefully, Aavi continued forward. What she saw left her crestfallen. The iron-barred cage was broken open on one side, the metal bars twisted and bent. Aavi approached, resting her hands on the bars for support as she peered inside. The cell looked completely empty, but to be sure she waded inside. The beast was definitely gone. Aavi turned back in despair. Then she saw where the beast had gone, through a huge hole in a wall facing the broken cage.

  Aavi waded out of the cell and climbed over the rocky debris. Unlike the halls beneath the fort or underground lair of the dryads, the tunnel that led beyond the hole was dug out haphazardly. She ran her hand along deep marks that had been cut into the rock. These must have been made by the beast’s claws! Aavi was sure now that she was going the right way. A small smile broke across her face. She was being a tracker, like D’Molay.

  Mud oozed over her sandals and between her toes as the tunnel angled upward. As always, the mud and dirt quickly vanished from her skin, leaving only her dress and shoes stained and wet. Looking up, she could see the night sky where the tunnel breached the surface. Aavi began to hear the screams of men and the clanging of metal against metal. She wondered if the beast was up there fighting. Aavi remembered the fearsome tale D’Molay had told her about the destruction it had wrought. She
was afraid, but continued to climb, unable to turn back from her mission to see the beast again.

  Aavi cautiously stepped out of the tunnel. Even though it was night, the light of the full moon cast a blue glow on the land. She could see large groups of men and creatures that were almost men fighting on the open plain before her. Just in front of her, the ripped and scattered corpses of a dozen Greeks and Mayans lay like discarded, broken dolls. Pieces of bodies and gore lay strewn on the grass just by her feet. Aavi recoiled, almost dashing back into the tunnel, but was frozen by a nauseous twisting in her stomach that made her retch and vomit unto the ground. Breaking out in a sweat and closing her eyes, she begged for the knotted feeling in her gut to stop. The sickness passed and she opened her eyes again, this time keeping her view well above the horrifying sights near her feet.

  Behind her rose the tall stone walls of the fortress which until now had kept her safely away from the carnage. Aavi tried not to stare at the many bodies heaped at the base of the wall. They were strange creatures with heads of lizards. Perhaps because of this, the sight of them did not affect her as badly. On the ramparts above, she could see men still fighting the creatures. One of the lizard things fell off the wall joining those in the pile below. The sight of yet another death convinced her she was right to have come this far. She had to stop this. She had to find the beast and somehow take it far away from here.

  * * *

  “Keep firing! Keep firing!” Kastor’s voice rang out confidently, but he feared his encouragement was futile. Many of his defenders had been killed. The rest were barely hanging on, facing a constant onslaught of crocodilians. D’Molay fought near Kastor and Tycho, giving them cover while one fired arrows and the other fired orders. A crocodilian charged D’Molay as he managed to kick another over the wall. The jaws of the new attacker snapped at him. He lurched back to avoid having his face torn off, then ducked low, swinging hard with his knife, striking the thing’s legs. It roared in pain, but before it could counterattack an arrow plunged deep into its eye socket. D’Molay looked over and nodded thanks to Tycho as the crocodilian fell dead.