by Liam Reese
She shivered when she recalled the feeling of being inside Besmir. She could not begin to understand how male creatures managed to exist with the thoughts of violence and lust barely far from their mind. If Porantillia had not found another host she thought she might have been trapped inside Besmir, a slave to his base feelings and thoughts of violence.
Porantillia had crawled from the river, suffusing the woman’s body with power to revitalize it, and made her way to the top of the bank where she found herself on a road surrounded by buildings. Approaching one she had heard laughter, singing and smelled the pungent odor of fermented drinks. Knowing she needed a mount to travel more quickly, Porantillia rounded the building to where a small stabling area had been set up, the smell of manure heavy in the air as she approached.
Untying one of the horses, Porantillia felt something odd in her chest. Something heavy and unpleasant she did not like.
Guilt. It is the woman’s guilt, nothing more.
“Stop! Thief!” A Corbondrasi had shouted at her.
The commotion his shout caused brought more people flooding from the tavern and Porantillia had found herself facing eight or nine armed men.
“I am in need of this animal,” she told them.
“Well you can’t have it, it’s mine!” One of the men called.
“Let go of the reins and clear off before we call the watch,” another demanded.
Porantillia had planned to begin her extermination of life once she had recovered the body she had created but if these few were about to give her trouble she could make an exception.
“Come take it from me,” she had said, glancing at the horse.
The Corbondrasi had looked at one another for a few seconds, unsure as to what to do when she had challenged them. No one seemed particularly keen to attack a woman but finally the horse’s owner had stepped forward and reached for the reins. Porantillia had sneered as she almost casually lashed at him with her power. Once powerful enough to destroy a Goddess like Coranstansia, Porantillia was now limited and weakened by the woman’s body but she still wielded enough force to smash a hole through the Corbondrasi.
Blood and entrails along with pieces of his spine had exploded from the man’s back as he folded in half and flew against the wall of the tavern. Her grin had been wide as she watched the other Corbondrasi fall back in fear and shock. Flame had lanced from her hands then, igniting the tavern and many of the people inside, their screams echoing through this part of the city.
She had bounced into the saddle, turning the horse northwards and disregarding the ache in her chest. There was no way she was about to give in to the feelings of the woman whose body she had stolen. Porantillia knew she was strong willed, but it did not matter. She was eternal, immortal and no creation of those pathetic Gods would control her. Grimly she rode north through the city, into the night, trying to push Keluse aside.
It had never occurred to Porantillia, in all her years of imprisonment, that she would have any limitations once freed from the absence. Now clear of the hated thing, she was disappointed to find there were a number of things she could not do. Her celestial form had been capable of traveling at the speed of thought and she had been able to soar through the cosmos between worlds virtually at will. These human forms were so fragile that such ideas would bring instant destruction to them meaning Porantillia had to employ traditional modes of transport.
She found herself grinding Keluse’s teeth as she rode, her backside already aching from the unfamiliar saddle.
Keluse had screamed silently when the icy waters hit her body. She struggled to move her hands, to blink her eyes, to do anything that meant the thing that had stolen her body was not in full control but nothing she did worked. When she felt herself dragged from the water she was weak and aching but something pleasant and warm, refreshing, washed through her, revitalizing and bringing her body back to life.
She could hear what Porantillia was planning. She wanted to steal a horse and ride north towards something...something that was waiting for her yet Keluse could not see what it might be.
Vainly, she tried to stop Porantillia from taking the horse. It belonged to someone, it might be their livelihood, the only thing they had left and she was about to casually take it to serve her own selfish needs.
Keluse watched her own hands untie the reins, her foot step into the stirrup and felt the cold as she sat in the saddle.
Evil!
She hurled the word at the other consciousness inside her, getting nothing but mocking laughter in return. Sadness washed through her then as her thoughts turned to Ranyeen and what the future might hold for the girl. Keluse knew that if anything happened to her Besmir and Arteera would ensure she was cared for but the thought of never seeing her daughter again caused physical pain.
She never met her father and now she might never see me again.
Keluse raged and cried within the prison of her mind, cursing herself for coming here. True she had always had a bond with Besmir, following his lead ever since he had chosen her as his apprentice years before. He had saved her from the dire fate she had faced at the hands of her own father and offered her a quality of life she could never have hoped for in Gravistard. His words and deeds through the years had bound them together as more than master and apprentice, more than friends. Besmir had become her family. The brother she had never had and like the father hers should have been despite their being almost the same age.
Yet, Ranyeen was her flesh and blood. She had carried her alone, given birth to her, alone and cared for her alone. That was where she belonged, where she should be, not stuck in some burning foreign country possessed by the malevolent spirit of an insane God.
The hollow that grew in her chest was so deep and intense Porantillia could feel it. Keluse knew it affected her when she heard the other being’s thoughts.
Thy grief is pointless, woman. Thy offspring will need to function as an orphan.
What manner of woman was this Porantillia? What had happened to make her so utterly twisted and evil.
Keluse’s mind flashed into the past, rifling through Porantillia’s memories as if they were her own. She saw the face of Gratallach, filling her with love and gentle thoughts. They flowed through the heavens together shaping worlds and bringing life to dead rock, sharing themselves freely and intimately until they became almost one.
Not until Gratallach created the third of their kind, turning his face from Porantillia, had she felt the dark seed of jealousy germinate within her, growing into a vast, all encompassing rage that burned inside Porantillia. Jealousy had turned to hate and that hate grew to immense proportions, blurring all reason until Porantillia had managed to do the unthinkable. Upon seeing their happiness at bearing children, Porantillia had managed to force her former love into the heart of a star.
Keluse tried to pull her mind from the soul wrenching screams Gratallach had bellowed as she watched. The tiniest trace of guilt Porantillia had felt washed away by the glee she had that he would feel the same pain she had endured when he turned from her to Coranstansia.
Thy curiosity will be satisfied, woman.
Porantillia spat the thought at her as she fought to wrench her mind from the horrific images and memories Porantillia had. The Goddess had murdered and destroyed on an unimaginable scale after sealing Gratallach in the sun. Whole galaxies she had brought life to with him had been crushed by her vengeance and cruelty. Keluse felt the intense pain, sorrow and loss Porantillia had felt after Gratallach had spurned her affections and knew she wanted nothing that lived because of him to exist any longer. She would destroy anything that had the power of Gratallach within it, even if that meant the devastation of worlds she had helped to create.
Now thee has thy answer.
Porantillia’s thought came to Keluse as she finally managed to pull her mind from the awful memories the Goddess recalled.
It’s not fair, Keluse sent out. To punish innocent beings for something Gratallach did.
Keluse realized Porantillia was not against life. Her sole purpose was to destroy the negative feelings Gratallach had created within her. By extinguishing the flame of life wherever she could she sought to rid the universe of greed, hate, jealousy, rage and her own suspicions she had not been good enough for Gratallach.
It won’t make any difference. Keluse thought. Even if you manage to kill every living thing those feelings will still haunt you. Deep within your heart they will fester, eating at you and fouling anything you create.
Keluse waited for a response, some thought from Porantillia that she understood or at least considered her words but nothing echoed from inside her but silence. Her body rode on into the evening, guided by Porantillia and her hate.
So be it. The thought came eventually.
Besmir crested a rise atop his newly named daasnu, Teghime, and scanned the horizon for anything unusual. His hope had been to spot Keluse and Porantillia, running her down and stopping her.
How?
That question had been plaguing him for some time now and it was one he still had no answer for. How was he, a mortal human, albeit a powerful one, supposed to stop an eternal Goddess in the body of his best friend? Especially when other immortal beings had failed to contain her.
His eyes found nothing but further hills, virtually barren and lifeless. As nothing had passed this way for centuries apart from a few lone travelers seeking to plunder or learn from the old cities, they were having to make their own path through the wilderness. Teghime led the small group with Cal Trin ranging ahead on his daasnu. Much of the ground was hard packed earth, dry and cracked, littered with stones and debris. Occasionally Besmir saw the evidence of flash floods where savage waters had cut through the dirt, carving a path through the bedrock, wearing it smooth and making the going a little easier.
Scrubby grass and hardy plants made their home here, clinging to life where there seemed to be no hope and Besmir wondered how his son could possibly exist in a land this harsh, especially as he had a demonic companion.
Hope and reason fought inside him as he waited for the rest of his party to catch up, the horses nowhere near as sure footed as the daasnu in this land. Part of him considered that Porantillia would keep Joranas alive, keeping him safe as a bargaining tool or shield.
She doesn’t think like you, or need him now she has Keluse.
That thought brought his mood crashing back down. Of course she had no need to keep his son alive. Porantillia had only done so in order to force him to present himself at the absence.
Joranas is as good as dead already.
Besmir gritted his teeth and clamped down on that morbid thought. To begin thinking like that was to doom the whole trip and he vowed never to let his son down in that manner. Until he had Joranas back in his arms he would forge ahead.
“We must rest a while,” Zaynorth said as he drew alongside Besmir. “These horses are worn out.”
Besmir looked at the mount the old man sat on. Sweat coated her flanks and her head was bowed, sniffing at the brown grass for any kind of moisture. While he knew Zaynorth was right, knew they were finished without the horses, he raged inside at the hold up.
He had toyed with the idea of leaving them, of spurring Teghime north through the barren countryside to try and find Joranas. It had taken all his willpower to stop him, reasoning he would need all their eyes and ears to find a single boy in a whole country.
Gently he reached his mind out towards the horse, feeling the weary animal’s willingness to carry on but also the tiredness and thirst she felt. He nodded to the old man, leading them down into the shade of some rocks in the channel left by storm water.
There was a cooling breeze here, the wind channeled by the rocks and the floodwaters had piled up a small quantity of driftwood and brush when it had washed through. Col Trin tied his horse to the root of a bleached tree that lay against the rock wall. Besmir watched as he took a small spade from his saddle bags and knelt at the base of one of the walls, scraping at the dry sand.
“What’s that all about?” Besmir asked Pira as the wiry ambassador secured his own mount.
Pira chirruped something in Corbondrasi, the digging man replying before he turned back to Besmir.
“He is attempting to find water, sire,” Pira said. “Apparently moisture can be found, for the horses at least, if one knows where to look.”
Besmir wandered across to where the Corbondrasi labored, scraping at what was now sand until he had dug down around a foot. Besmir watched as the sand changed color at that point, darkening with the water that was there. Col Trin carried on digging, even the sounds coming from the sand were wet now and before long the king saw there was a small pool of water forming in the bottom. It was a dark red color and had foamy scum on top but it was water nonetheless.
“Incredible,” he muttered, unable to believe there was any water here.
“Yes,” Col Trin said, looking up. “Wet.”
Besmir was shocked when the Corbondrasi dipped his spade into the water and flung it out of the hole, wasting it but understood when he watched the hole fill back up with almost clear water.
Col Trin led the horses, one by one to the watering hole he had dug, letting them drink their fill before returning them to the makeshift corral they had set up. Besmir sat with his wife, Zaynorth and Pira who looked to be suffering as much as any of the Gazluthians.
“I’m a city man, sire,” he said when Besmir commented. “More used to social functions and gala events than arid canyons and desert sands.”
“Why did you agree to come then?” Besmir asked as he chewed on a piece of dried meat that had come as part of their provisions.
“You’re my king and needed someone to translate any instructions to the Trin brothers,” Pira said as if Besmir ought to have known. “With Ru Tarn indisposed, the task falls to me.”
“Indisposed?” Arteera asked weakly.
Pira glanced at them both, his hawk-like eyes piercing as he assessed their expressions.
“You are unaware, I see,” he commented.
“My brother and the good lady ambassador are expecting a child,” Zaynorth said gruffly.
Besmir felt his mouth fall open and turned to look at Arteera who wore an expression not to much different to his own.
“How...I mean when...and how?” Besmir stumbled over his own words in his surprise.
“In the normal manner, I would suppose, sire,” Pira said dryly. “As to when I could not even offer a guess without a great deal more information. King Vi Rhane informed me Ru Tarn would not be able to accompany you as she was expecting and as your subject, as well as a dual speaker, he advised it was my duty to assist you.”
“What do you know about this?” Besmir demanded of Zaynorth.
The old mage turned his bearded face towards Besmir, confused and a little hurt.
“Nothing,” he said in a quiet voice. “He only told me outside the embassy before we were due to leave.” The old man looked away. “I knew they had been...close, but not to the extent that she is pregnant. He has never kept anything of importance from me before,” Zaynorth added sadly.
“Maybe he didn’t know,” Besmir said. “After all, when he did say anything it was to you. And he’d been laid up for days. Maybe she didn’t tell him.”
Zaynorth looked hopeful but his tone did not change when he muttered.
“Maybe.”
They fell silent for a few moments, the warm breeze moaning as it blew across an opening in the rock.
“Isn’t it really rare for a Gazluthian and Corbondrasi to have children?” Besmir asked eventually.
“Yes, sire,” Pira said, “
and I have no idea how it works with a Corbondrasi mother. I was born in Gazluth to a Gazluthian woman, my father was Corbondrasi and I was born in the normal way but...” Pira trailed off as if he had said too much.
“Go on, what?” Besmir urged.
“Not something we discuss in Corbondrasi society,” Pira said. “However, were you aware Corbondrasi females lay eggs?”
“Eggs!” Besmir cried, casting a guilty glance at Col Trin. “No, I hadn’t a clue, I assumed it was all the same as with us.”
Pira shook his head.
“It’s an incredibly private and personal thing, certainly not discussed with strangers.”
Indeed Besmir thought he could see some color coming to the ambassador’s cheeks as he spoke.
Besmir was just about to say something more when the sound of galloping feet came to his ears and he looked up to see the form of Cal Trin approaching. His blue plumage looked windswept and unkempt, filled with dust and dirt collected from riding so hard and the daasnu he rode was breathing hard, his sides swelling and shrinking fast as it stood there.
“He has seen a lone rider!” Pira translated as the Corbondrasi tweeted shrilly.
Chapter Twenty
It was not particularly fun being queen Collise decided as she took several deep breaths to try and keep her lungs clear. No one wanted to be friends with her in case she burned them or cooked them inside their clothes.
But I wouldn’t do that unless they came at me first.
Even Branisi was making fewer visits to see her and she had been one of the kinder ones, even when her mother had been alive. Collise sighed, wincing at the pain in her chest, and gingerly stood to cross to the window and stare out at the familiar scene below.
Her house, or rather King Besmir’s house, overlooked the main avenue that had led up to what had been the palace. Hoards of people passed by her window each day, all of them destined for somewhere else, not one wanted to see her and all she wanted was a visitor. It hadn’t been her idea to come here and take over from King Besmir while he was off doing whatever kings did. That idea had come from her mother and now she was dead so could Collise not just leave?
