The Punishment Of The Gods (Omnibus 1-5)

by Jake Yaniak

  Natham stepped forward for the kill, but Lutrosis at last gained the mastery and his blow was stopped. For the monster's mighty arm had been caught by Daryas who then turned and to the astonishment of all who watched, cast the monster over his shoulder as if he were a regular man.

  Now fully under the power of Lutrosis, Daryas drew his Noras short sword from its sheath to strike a final blow. But ere his blade could fall, a shadow fell upon him, and a great bird descended from the sky, alighting upon the fallen monster. 'Maru?' Daryas said in great surprise, 'Twice you have stood between us, but to what end? You carry no message. Begone, for I cannot permit you to withstand me again. He raised the sword aloft, but his blow never came. A smaller bird fell from the sky and struck in him the chest, knocking him back. Then another bird fell, its beak like a dart, piercing his armor and cutting his chest. Soon a veritable rain of such foul was falling upon him. He fled beneath a ledge that had been built nearby and held a board over himself to guard his head from the birds. Amid all this the eagle turned toward Natham and gave a shriek.

  'Natham,' Maru spoke, in words only the monster could perceive, 'What are you doing here?'

  'Who are you, spirit of the air, that you address me by name?'

  'I am Maru, lord of birds, and some time ago I was told to search for you. Now I have found you.'

  'To what end?'

  'To tell you at last the truth that has for all these years evaded you, but which the spirit-lords of Falsis have long known.'

  Origin

  'Twice betrayed are you,' Maru said, 'And by him who of all men ought never to have done so. A darkness lies upon your memory, but you must look beyond it.' With those words the haze that had long shadowed the monster's mind was lifted and he saw his whole past anew. 'A shame you were to your father, for two reasons. First and foremost, you were born to his father's maid, long before he took to himself a wife. Such a thing could have cost him both his honor and his title, and he would sacrifice neither. Heaped upon this circumstance was your form. As if to demonstrate to the world the heinousness of fathering a child by one's youngest maid, you came from the womb all in a tangle, one arm shriveled behind you, another coming as it were, straight from your heart. "Two heads! Two heads! The devil lives again!" your father bellowed in a drunken stupor.

  'Death - your father had planned for you from the beginning. He wished you dead for the shame of his own sins. He deemed your life unworthy of living, and so he condemned you to the fire. "Who would wish to live a day in such a ghastly form?" he asked himself in terror.

  'His negative answer to his own question was soon proved, when he ordered the child to be burnt on the altar of Pelas, even as infants were, in the dark days, offered to the god Agonistes, before the devil worshippers were driven from Noras. Half of you he burned indeed, as I deem your dark cloak conceals. But ere life was taken from you altogether, your mother, that poor young girl, plucked you from the flame and darted into the woods. There she hid, seeking aid among the peasants of that land. But none would help her, for the sight of you filled their superstitious hearts with fear.

  'Starving, she made her way at last to the Yilnir river, and there she died, but not before handing you over to the first kind man she had, in all that time encountered. A Knarseman of Titalo he was, and I imagine from there you can piece together the narrative well enough.'

  Natham looked into the eagle's sharp eyes and knew at once that his every word was true. 'Tell me, lord of birds,' he demanded, as he lifted himself to his knees. 'How is it that this man, my father, has twice betrayed me.'

  'Even now,' Maru said, with sorrow in his voice, 'he has taken hold of that which you have long fought for.'

  'What!?' Natham roared, rising to his feet and towering over the bird. 'Speak on!' he commanded.

  'This very same Cheft Ponteris, who set flame to his own and only son, even now, this Cheftan Ponteris of Oastir-la, has taken for a prize, Lyris of Marin, whom you have long sought. Pay heed, Natham!' Maru said, 'Marin has lied to you from the beginning. Never did they mean for you to see the woman again, never did Olver Galvahirne so much as hear her name spoken, never did any man of that kindred set eyes upon her. It was to Cheftan Ponteris that she was promised as a prize, and this was kept secret that you might lend your heavy hand to the war against Dadron. Never, oh Natham, did even one of your many letters escape the spies of Marin and bring your demands to those cities you so mercilessly overthrew!'

  When all this was said the face of the monster grew grim and cold. A roar rent the air, stopping every blade and giving every warrior a chill. This was the voice of Judan, and there was as much anger in it as there was sorrow, and enough sorrow, it was said, to fill the ocean twice over. His warriors rallied to his side, and all the soldiers of Marin that remained within the city walls. Without any question, and without any hesitation, all these warriors turned and followed him, seeming to have understood the whole from just that one lament. So fierce was his anger, and so dreadful his sorrow, that even many men of Amlaman turned and followed him.

  This great host, nearly all those who remained within Dadron, now turned and departed from the city in a fury of passion, trampling all those that withstood them. Some sort of enchantment seemed to hang in the air, and at every instant the soldiers of Marin were choosing sides, some turning to follow the monster, and some setting themselves against him, to their doom.

  A sudden peace came over the city, and the lower city was emptied into the upper city without danger. The second gates were then shut and Dadron the Great was safe from its assailants once more. But now it was the assailants themselves that were the besieged.

  Pincer

  Even as Natham led the warriors of Olgrost and the soldiers of Marin out of the city they were met by the combined forces of Amlaman and Marin. So great were their numbers that the thought came to them at once that this would be their last battle. But when their forces were about to clash, a trumpet call rang out and the army of Amlaman turned on their heels.

  A sound like thunder rent the air, a thick smoke rose up in the distance, and many hundreds of Amlaman's warriors fell to the earth slain. So quick and so fierce was this new assault that many shouted out, 'Aggelos, even as the days of old!' But it was Dynamis, and the strange weapons he and his servants bore. Three more volleys of that piercing iron came into the ranks of the men of Amlaman ere they could gather their wits. Volthamir took the lead, and they rushed into the west, to face this new foe.

  So it was that the armies of Ollitov and of Volthamir were sundered, the Marin soldiers facing the defected men and women of Natham, and the army of Amlaman facing the army of Galva, long exiled and full of fresh strength and courage. Divided and confused, they saw no hope but in retreat.

  Ollitov and his guardians fled into the north, making their way across the Falsi River on ferries while their men held off the traitorous band of Natham. There fell Nerria along with all her guardians, and the greater portion of Ollitov's personal guard. Those who made it across the river were so distraught that they neglected even to return the boats to the other side. In this way, nearly half the army of Marin was trapped on the southern side of the river, with nothing to guard them from the wrath of the Vestron Monster.

  At last, when he could find no other place to escape to, Ollitov turned and faced the monster. But no battle took place. Natham smacked Ollitov across the face, knocking him to the ground. He took his spear and broke it in two, and pulled the long crimson plume from his helmet.

  'Do not be a fool, beast!' Ollitov shouted. 'Thou shalt not lay a finger upon the lord of Marin; upon the husband of the mighty queen!'

  'Natham picked him up by the throat. 'I fear not any soul of Marin. Your empty threats cannot save you. I now know, and you know it too - I cannot be killed by any but my own hands. But now, I have no interest in your pleading; you know your crimes, and I know there is nothing you can do to deter me from taking revenge.' With those words he broke his enemy's neck and cast his body into th
e river, where under the weight of his armor he sank without delay.

  Perceiving now that all was lost, Volthamir led his army toward the Galva warriors, who were stationed atop a small ridge that rose some thirty feet above the field on the northwest side, very near the river. It was his hope that they might be able to ride them down and break through their lines ere too much damage was done. But the rain of iron continued, dropping hundreds of soldiers with every blast. When finally the armies met, the men of Amlaman were weary, wounded and terrified. It was a hard battle. The army of Amlaman had the advantage of numbers, but the Galva had the mastery in every other area. Volthamir alone on his side was able to stand against them without fear in his eyes.

  Ultimately, however, the vast number of men forced the Galva army to abandon their position, and the army of Amlaman was able to begin their eastward flight toward the Amla Gap. But ere they left Agalan fields, Dynamis rode down with three thousand men to cut them off. Of these, some four hundred were on horseback. Volthamir sought out their commander and charged with all his fury at the son of Galvahir. Ten men he slew, ere he came to face Dynamis. Among those whom he slew there was Vallus Phoadirne, whose mighty axe had hewn the heads of many men of Amlaman. Vallus took a swing at the legs of Ghoras, Volthamir's horse, but the horse leapt into the air and so dodged his fatal blow. While yet in descent, Volthamir cut the throat of his enemy, dropping the hero of Galva to the ground in agony. The men of Galva rushed to his side and surrounded the King of Amlaman, but they could not contain him. There fell Cheft Aargo with his eldest son, Eron, who had fought so bravely for the sake of their homeland. The thick armor he had won in the contest at Ram-u-Nar served him not against the might of Volthamir. So fierce was his fury, and so tireless his arm, that the men of Galva let him loose and kept out of his path. This they did out of wisdom, not cowardice. In their hearts they desired to face him and meet death, but knowing it would serve no purpose, they relented and let the King of Amlaman free.

  But as soon as he was let loose, he resumed his fiery pursuit of Dynamis, hoping to take his head as a prize ere he returned to Japhrian. The two met upon horseback, and the clash was like the butting of two strong bulls, and the sound of their swords was like thunder. Volthamir thrust his blade through the neck of Dynamis' horse, dropping the beast to the ground. He turned and made a charge, thinking it an easy thing to ride over and crush the barbarian beneath his horse. But Dynamis pulled a dagger from his boot and hurled it with great speed into Ghoras' forehead, felling that noble, but ill-mastered horse.

  A pang of feeling rushed over the King, such as he had not felt for many years. The fury that came of this was unrelenting and he very nearly got the best of Biron's son. But in the end, when Volthamir had made a fierce downward strike at his foe, Dynamis stepped aside and put his boot on the flat of Volthamir's blade. Volthamir dropped the blade at once, and Dynamis stepped down upon it hard, but to no avail.

  Volthamir ducked low and rolled under Dynamis' legs, knocking him to the ground and freeing his own blade from beneath his enemy. He rose with his sword in hand, even as Dynamis rose with his.

  'That swordsmanship I have seen before,' Dynamis said, panting, 'but yours is much improved. I cannot yet tell whether you are the master or the pupil. Your youth says you must be the pupil, but your skill tells me otherwise.'

  'Then it was you, barbarian,' Volthamir responded, 'who slew the mighty Lord Havoc upon the cliffs of the Daunrys.'

  'So that was his name,' Dynamis said, 'and glad was I to see him slain. Many good and just men were slain by him ere his end came upon him.'

  'Good and just, you say,' laughed Volthamir, 'as though such a thing were possible, or, as though such a thing were desirable.'

  'You are mad,' Dynamis said, shaking his head. 'But where have your mad ambitions brought you? To flight and shame.'

  With that Volthamir came once more against him, and the fury of their blows was renewed. Long they struggled against each other, but in the end, the men of Galva drew near and Volthamir was forced to turn and flee with those of his men that were able to escape. These passed into the coming night, pursuing the setting sun as hounds pursue the swift hare.

  Peace in the City

  Silence ruled over Dadron now, as the sun went down and the gates were fastened shut. Daryas, from atop a watch tower, could see the distant forms of his kinsmen, battling against the hordes of Amlaman. 'I trust you are safe, brother,' he whispered to himself. 'None can kill you, of that I am convinced, but I know that much of this is but hero worship. Worship? Yes, it must be admitted brother, that to some degree all men look to their brothers as if they were gods. What an honor, and what a responsibility. Happy am I that such a burden has not fallen on my weak shoulders. Happy also am I to have such a man as you for my kinsman. Never, in all my days, have I had anything to fear when you were at hand. Dynamis Galvahirne, you are in every way my better, yet in every way you have given me the better lot.'

  Kardian greeted Daryas with gladness, saying, 'Hail the hero of Dadron! Who drove away the wrath of the monster!'

  'Nay,' Daryas said, 'It was not I. I cannot say what happened. It was a marvel and a miracle; the work of the Lord of Birds that turned the monster's heart away from Dadron.'

  'Nonetheless,' Kardian said, 'History will remember your three great battles, and how it was the gods alone that kept you from the greatest honors.'

  'I would see little honor in killing a sorry soul like his,' Daryas said, looking to the north. 'In all ways he was more sincere than I, and it would have been a shame for him to perish so deceived.'

  'Nonetheless, you have fought long and fought well for many innocent men.'

  'Yet still I wonder how many more could have lived if we had headed the words of Rahdmus, who knew - he knew somehow, that the war would come to such a sudden end. What would have been, if we had not slain so many Marin warriors that day? Would there not be many thousands more of them under his command? Would they not have had an easier time driving away our enemies for us, when at last they turned their swords against their allies? And what of the rest of Daevaron? Fahsro, Daeva City, Libraeva, these must all be taken out of Marin's hand, ere this land will have peace. We will soon wish that we had left a greater portion of these soldiers alive. As it stands, they will meet their end in Solibree or Lak, and Marin will retain her fierce grip upon our land.'

  'But have they not the monster?'

  'My heart tells me,' Daryas said soberly, 'that they will not have him with them for long. When he cried out it sounded like the cry of a man bent on death.'

  Chapter XIII:

  Natham

  The Statue

  As has been noted on several occasions, Cheftan Ponteris Oastirne kept at the entrance of his property, a great stone sculpture. It was the figure of a beautiful woman, a Siren from the ancient world. The Sirens were known as those who spoke, if not God's very words, at least the most beautiful words that can be uttered. To protect this statue from rain and from wind (and from carriages and wagons), Cheftan Ponteris had built a wooden shelter around it. He also caused the road to be brought around it, so that it would be both impossible to damage it accidentally, and impossible to follow that road without seeing his great prize.

  Nearby, though not easily seen, was a small guard house, which was always occupied by at least two men. They were armed only with short swords, but they had a great horn, which was meant to summon to their side what help they might need, should any peril ever come to the statue.

  But nobody in the whole forest of Noras cared for the statue enough to trouble it. So it was that by this time, the guards spent most of their day sleeping, drinking, and playing dice.

  But on the last day of Paschest, ere any tidings had come to Noras concerning the events that had taken place in Dadron, one of the guards found himself shaken to wakefulness.

  'Jori! Jori! Jori Polcirne!' his companion shouted in his ears.

  'What is it, Kelnan,' the sleeper grumbled. 'What time is
it?'

  'There is someone near the statue!'

  'And what of it? Everyone must pass the statue.'

  'Do you think that I don't know that as well as you? There is something amiss.'

  'Are you saying,' Jori said reluctantly opening his eyes, 'that after all these years someone is actually going to trouble that stupid goddess?'

  'That is how it looks, Jori, now get up, I am not going down there alone.'

  When they had put on their leather armor and fastened their swords at their sides they left the guardhouse. There they found Natham, the monster of Vestron, staring ponderously at the great statue. They took one look at each other and skulked away from the estate, abandoning their employer and their charge altogether.