The Punishment Of The Gods (Omnibus 1-5)

by Jake Yaniak

  'That is Dadron,' Rahdmus said proudly. 'There I once dwelt, and while I dwelt there I thought myself wise. The shining light you see leaping from the valley like a flame is the temple of Pelas, the god of all Falsis, illuminated by the power of the dawn.'

  Never in all my years have I seen a sight more beautiful and amazing.

  Chapter VII:

  The Prophet

  The Voice of Biron

  On the thirteenth day of Leonius, when the winter began to give up its icy hold on Noras, Daryas and Revere rode into South Lake, again pretending to be furriers. There they found many Vivlirne who were willing to join them in battle for the sake of Dadron, if only they had the surety that if by some miracle the great city was spared, the army of Galva would turn north at once and break the strength of Cheft Ponteris. 'We will not venture forth,' Heston, lord of the city told them, 'leaving wife and child under his boots, if we have not the word of Biron's son, that this deed will be done.'

  'You have my word,' Daryas said. 'We will not abandon the sons of Vivlir, who of old fought beside our forefather.'

  'So also did Oastir fight with Galvahir,' Heston said.

  'For that reason alone we will not drive the Oastirne from Noras utterly, but rather like a healing blade, we shall excise the rotted flesh of Ponteris from Noras.'

  'You speak bold words, even as your fathers before you spoke,' Heston warned him. 'Let them prove true with bold deeds.' Some four-hundred men were committed to the battle in that day, and afterward, many more were added to that number.

  For the past month Revere and Daryas had been gathering pledges of support among the faithful families of Vivlir-la, and Heston's commitment brought the number of those who would fight for Biron to nearly one thousand Vivlirne.

  When they had done what they could in that region they passed into the west and came to the dark land of Coran-la, where the mightiest of the ancient heroes had made his home. Coran was, it was said, nearly a full head taller than even Galvahir, and he could bear the burden of many men both in battle and in labor. It is taught in Noras that the Great Mountain itself was so named because of his stature. It is certain, however, that it is the reverse; the man being named after the mountain after whose stature he seemed to be fashioned. Among the Coranirne, Daryas gathered a great host of strong men. Their leader was Dentrop Coranirne, and he was said to echo his ancient father in strength. Under his authority was placed some three hundred warriors. 'We will bleed for Galvahir if we must,' they told Daryas, 'for Galvahir has already bled much for us.'

  Less success was found in Megd-la, where the arm of Ponteris was stronger. But he found there some two-hundred and fifty men, mostly archers and hunters, who were willing to march to Dadron should the need arise.

  It is certain that he could have gathered many more allies in Noras. But this he could not manage without revealing himself to the eyes of his enemies and bringing his force to a sore test ere it was even fully formed. They therefore went only to those houses and kindreds that were known to be faithful to the Old Noras.

  But even as they finished their labors among the Megd-la, news came to them the east, saying, 'Fahsro has fallen, and the beast of hell has slain all their brave men!'

  'Naught now lies between Marin and Dadron,' Revere said soberly. 'If the tales be true, and if Amlaman marches to war from the west, Dadron will not survive long.'

  'Then Ponteris now has little to fear from Olver, for he is, to them, as good as dead.'

  'Let us hope he will not act rashly,' Revere said.

  Daryas shook his head, 'There is none perhaps that is more rash than Cheftan Oastirne. My father will not long survive, and my mother-' Daryas' brow lowered. 'We must find them at once,' he said with sudden resolve. 'For I will not let his noble head sink into death in despair.'

  Daryas began to ride toward Ostir-la in that very moment. Revere tried to prevent him, saying, 'but what of your work? What of Shaf-la?'

  'Shaf-la is in the hands of the fool Ponteris,' Daryas answered as he quickened his pace. Revere rode after him, trying to keep pace with Novai's swift legs. 'We will find only traitors in that land. We must see what has become of Galva-la and its lord.'

  'But you are known among those people,' Revere protested. 'You will be discovered!'

  'Nonetheless, I must go to my parents and see what has become of them. If I become known to Ponteris it will be all the better for us; for he will remember that he is not immortal yet. And at the very least, even if I perish, he will know that Dynamis yet lives. For even a fool like Ponteris would not be able to believe that Dynamis could fall and Daryas survive.'

  Thus it came to pass that Daryas and Revere made their way to Oastir-la, where it was rumored the Cheftan Biron was imprisoned. They came to the estate of Cheftan Ponteris Oastirne on the twentieth day of Paschest.

  The first sight they saw upon approaching the Cheftan's estate was a sculpture of some heavenly woman. Cheft Ponteris called it an Aggelos, though it was really meant to be what the Ancients called a Siren (it is unlikely that the Cheftan knew more than the mere names of these beings). It was almost twice the size of a mortal man, mounted still higher upon a great pillar of stone. The sculpture was made of the same white rocks that lay upon the top of Dadron. The origin of this statue is clouded in mystery, though it was believed to have been a gift from Falruvis to the family of Oastir, who was slain with the other heroes of Noras in the last defense of the city of Dadron, when yet it was an elven city. This is widely believed, though it is almost certainly false, for the workmanship of it is not elven by any account. It was, however, one of the more beautiful sculptures to have been made in that time, certainly the most beautiful to be brought to the pragmatic land of Noras.

  Upon her back the Siren had two great wings like a bird's, which overshadowed her face. In one of her hands she held a scepter and in the other a scroll. The meaning of these symbols is as unknown as the sculpture's origin. But Ponteris loved this sculpture more than any other thing he possessed, calling it by more affectionate names than he called his own wife.

  This they passed with shaking heads, as they followed the road to the Cheftan's house. 'I abhor that man,' Revere said. 'And now all the more I regret any shadow of cowardice and pride that led me to betray the house of Biron. For I would die a thousand deaths and suffer a thousand humiliations if only I could watch the severed head of Cheft Ponteris thump upon the ground.'

  When the house loomed at last before them they left the road and, hiding their horses in the woods, they crept across the tall grass toward the house. There were many lights flickering in the Cheftan's windows, and outside his walls there were many guards. 'What is the meaning of this?' Daryas asked.

  'It is a feast of sorts,' Revere said. Indeed, the Cheftan's house had become a place of drunkenness and perpetual festival. There were always dancers and singers, musicians and story-tellers in his house, entertaining his many guests. Those Cheftans that were loyal to him he kept nearby at all times, lest they grow dissatisfied with his rule. Under the power of wine and ale these men were kept, only rarely seeing the sorry state of the people they had betrayed. And when they at last beheld the work of Ponteris in Noras, it took only a few mugs of ale and a few friendly words to drive the ire far from their minds. This was the state of Cheft Burrin, who had surrendered all his authority to Hassan in order to save his own life. Also among them was Cheft Daevin, Cheft Fidre of Dae-la, Cheft Gornas and many others. Cheftan Horan of Lavri-la, however, remained as far from Oastir-la as he was able, coming only to Ponteris' estate for councils. He now fully hated his co-conspirator, though his own part in the treachery prevented him from ever acting against him. 'Shall I free Biron so that he can tear me to pieces in rightful ire?' he asked himself.

  Slipping away to the east, where the light from the western windows failed, the travelers came to the back of the house. Here there was not so much as a candle lit. As they came near to the house, they heard, much to their surprise, the sound of a man sing
ing. The voice was faint at first, but as they drew closer they discovered that it was strong and bold. It sang:

  O mighty lord of stars, reveal to us your light,

  Ever loving guide of men, lead us through the night,

  A prideful face we wear, haughty oaths we swear,

  Raising frail and foolish fists high into the air,

  O lord forgive our folly, and our pompous gait,

  No strength have we at all, on you alone we wait,

  Without your precious wisdom, all our paths are bent,

  Light our ways, o lord, even when the sun is spent.

  This singing went on for a long while, sometimes passing into regular speech, sometimes into prayer, sometimes back into song or verse, but always filled with joy. 'It is Biron,' Daryas said, 'It is my father.' With that he knelt down to the ground and tears streamed from his face, thinking his father had gone mad.

  Suddenly, the voice became still and almost as if he could see his son, he said, 'Daryas, my son, do not fear for me.'

  'Father!' Daryas said, much louder than he perhaps ought to have spoken, but his father could not hear him. Revere made a sign for him to be quiet. The voice of Biron then fell into song again and at last into prayer. 'Mighty Lord of Stars, in your hands lies all the worlds. By your might are they revealed to our darkened eyes. Cloth him with your mercy, bind him to your ways, find him in this darkness and lead him to the light of day. By you have all things become visible and by your words they have become intelligible. Gracious light of heaven born, save us from shadow.'

  The last word went into Daryas like a sword, and he fell almost at once into a fit, such as he had had at the inn. 'Evna!' he cried in horror, 'Depart from me!'

  At that moment Daryas flew into a rage, and madness filled his eyes. He drew his sword and rushed away from that place, intending to slay all and rescue his father alone. Revere rushed after him, hopelessly falling behind. He whispered after him, then spoke, and finally shouted, 'Stop you fool! You will bring death upon us both!'

  Rahdmus The Prophet

  'Have I not told you,' Ponteris laughed with his guests, 'how it is sometimes better to stand to the left, and sometimes to the right?'

  'What is this now?' the people laughed, knowing he meant to tell a tale, such as they could always look to for a laugh. 'Why, master, would it be better to stand on one side or another?'

  'Silence, fools,' Ponteris said, jokingly, 'This is a very lofty matter, and I will have no laughter.'

  This only set the drunken crowd into guffaws. 'Very well then,' Ponteris sighed, 'I'll tell you anyway. But it is not my fault if you miss the moral for all your laughter.' Ponteris then stood up tall and spoke in a very loud voice, saying:

  'There was once a mighty king, such as no other king could compare. This king had no limit to his wealth, no limit to his power, and no limit to his wisdom. Now it came to pass that the captain of the guard died unexpectedly, and the king was called upon to place another in the now vacant position. A great tournament was held, the winner of which would be given the hand of the princess and the mastery of the king's army. So it was that every strong man and every valiant warrior in the land came to compete before the king for this great honor. But in the end the brothers Heliun were the victors in every contest. Except, they, being twins, were so evenly matched, that the one could not best the other in any game. When they raced, they crossed the mark at the same exact instant. When they wrestled, they wrestled for three whole days without either of them taking the advantage. Similarly, they dueled with swords for a week and fought on horseback for twenty whole days, until it was clear that in no game would the one brother best the other.

  'Seeing how he could not, by the games, determine who was the greater man, the king summoned the two brothers before him. He inquired into the order of their birth, so as to give the elder the greater honor, since in all physical matters they were perfect equals. But as he soon learned, they were born both at the same moment, for their mother had perished in the delivering of them, and they were cut, both at the very same moment, from their mother's womb.

  'In honor of their eminent father, they were each given the same name, Heliun. So it came to be that the king could not in any way distinguish one from the other. He had them tested, to see who was the wiser, the more honest, and the more virtuous. But in each regard they again and again proved their equality.

  At this point one of the Cheftan's followers spoke out, saying, 'How did he decide?'

  Another voice blurted out, 'He split the princess!' much to the crowd's delight.

  'Nonsense,' Ponteris shouted, 'He chose the one on the right.'

  'Why not the one on the left?' one man asked.

  'He chose the one on the right,' Ponteris laughed, 'because he had a piece of dust in his left eye, and could see the one better than the other.'

  He enunciated the ending of his tale in such a way as to elicit from his hearers a great round of cheers and praise. But his voice echoed through the hall in silence. Every mouth was stopped, and his heart sunk, though he knew not what had stolen away the music and laughter of his servants.

  Daryas also, who had just burst through the door with drawn blade, stopped and looked about in confusion. In the midst of all the revelry there now stood a tall man, robed in brown with a robe tied about his waist. Beside him stood a young man, clothed in long garments of gray, such as we are wont to wear in Solsis. To the latter, however, little attention was paid. 'Lord Havoc!?' Ponteris said, squinting in the firelight. 'It is as though before me stands a ghost.'

  'You are nearer to the truth than you imagine,' Rahdmus said boldly. Whatever reluctance or inner conflict he had among his own people in the south seemed to be entirely absent in his dealings with the wicked men of Noras. The full strength of his voice rang throughout the hall.

  'Still you speak in riddles, my friend,' Ponteris laughed. I have been told that you were dead. But I should have known better than to believe such tales. Will you not join our feast? We feast, truth be told, because of you. Why should we not, therefore, feast with you?' To this there many cheers rose up in agreement.

  'I once spoke dark words, twisted and of hidden intent,' Rahdmus said. 'These words I spoke to blind men and fools, who, having no ideas of their own, imbibe gluttonously every novel thing they hear - only to regurgitate it later, half digested, and with much of their own bile mingled therein.'

  At those words all the laughter and joyfulness died away. It was clear to them all that the business of this foreign lord was grave and joyless. 'The words I speak today,' Rahdmus continued, 'I speak plainly, though I am certain that fools will splutter and choke upon them all the same.

  'Lord Havoc,' Ponteris said gravely, 'If you have such grave words for me, then I would have you speak to me at once. Let us retire to my chambers, where, away from this crowd of people I can weigh your words aright.'

  'These words are for you, Cheftan,' Rahdmus said, 'But not for you alone. To all Noras I speak today.'

  With that he turned and spoke his prophecy before the whole assembly of half-drunken mercenaries, guards, Cheftans, servants, dancers and musicians:

  'This is the word, which comes to Noras from the Master of Causes:

  'Death and vengeance shall fall upon this house,

  'By your own flesh and blood shall your end come,

  'By the fire you long ago kindled shall your own flesh be burned,

  'The prize for which you have so long waited shall be given to your adversary's heir,

  'The White Twin shall be driven from his throne in humiliation,

  'The Siren of Noras shall be slain,

  'Galvahir will again bear the sacred sword, but Oastir will break it.'

  'What is the meaning of this drivel?' Ponteris shouted, laughing nervously. He looked about the room, hoping to have a crowd of cheering drunkards to support his incredulity. But the house was as silent as death itself.

  'Such has long been your crime, Cheftan,' Rahdmus said sha
king his head. 'You call my words drivel ere they are proved. All I have ever told you has been false, and all I have hitherto said you have believed. But now, when I speak heavenly words, you finally disbelieve me. I was once lord of all the Presumptuous Ones, those blind deniers of the truth. You, however, have been naught but the jester, miming the deeds of greater men for the sake of cheap laughter.'

  Looking still at the frightened eyes of his servants and comrades, Cheft Ponteris began to question Rahdmus' words. 'Galvahir you say? You know better than I that Galvahir's bones were burned to dust in that great battle, along with the bones of Oastir. How then shall he bear once more that godly blade?'

  'I spoke plainly enough, Cheftan, for those who have not bound their eyes with thick wool and stuffed their ears with wax. Galvahir will bear the blade again.'

  'You speak also of the heir of my adversary. But what heir? For naught has been seen or heard of the brothers Galvahirne since the day the goblins fell upon Galva. You know better than I that they lie dead in the mountains. I have been told that all the men of Galva lay in a heap, burned to dust by those devil goblins. Will you bring them also back from the dead, that they might, with Galvahir of old, make your words true? You were upon the mountain yourself, though,' Ponteris said, starting to suspect Lord Havoc of betrayal. 'You can, perhaps, tell me better what became of the sons of Biron.'

  'No news do I bring of them,' Rahdmus said. 'This only can I say: The Cheftan of Oastir-la has naught to fear from them. They will not avenge themselves upon him, nor will any man of Galva return from Coranan to make war upon your dominion.'