The Second God

by Pauline M. Ross

  When we had a spare half hour, we went up to the roof and practised controlling the defence mechanism we’d inherited from Arran. One or other of us would throw a ball as hard as we could, to see if we could induce the effect. But nothing happened. It was very disappointing.

  But then the news came that turned everything on its head. The golden army had marched onto barges at Rinnfarr Gap and sailed downriver to the sea, there to lay siege to the coastal town of Dellonar Holding. And within the rise and fall of the sun, without a single arrow fired or sword raised, the Holder had opened the gates and surrendered.

  24: An Offer

  “What does it mean?” Arran whispered, as we dressed by the light of the night lamps to attend Yannassia.

  “It means war,” I said. “I see no alternative. Rinnfarr Gap – that was an independent town, no business of ours. But the Port Holdings have been allies for centuries. We were one country not so long ago. There are any number of treaties involving mutual defence. We cannot avoid responding. The only question is how we go about it, and whether we attempt to retake Dellonar or content ourselves with protecting the rest of the coast.”

  Yannassia was dressed, her hair neatly braided, when we reached her apartment. She sat calmly at the head of her discussion table as one after another of her closest advisors filed in, scribes, mages, secretaries and nobles. The most important, to my mind, was my brother Axandor, the army’s High Commander. He had been a somewhat useless child, and not much better as a young man, but the army had knocked the rough edges off him and given him a practical role he fulfilled rather well. He wasn’t the brightest of men, but he arrived with a sheaf of papers, no doubt with notes to remind him of the salient points, and a couple of commanders to prompt him when he hesitated.

  “We cannot fight the golden army head on,” he said, as soon as he was asked for his opinion. “They have been flooding south from the Karningplain at an incredible rate, and they now outnumber us ten to one. They are also extremely well-disciplined.”

  “Surely no more so than our own stalwart soldiers,” one of the mages said mildly.

  “Our soldiers are impeccably trained and very determined, that goes without saying,” Axandor said. “The golden army is different. They have a living god at their head, and they obey his orders without question. They have no wives, no families, no one waiting at home for them. They willingly undertake missions where the risk of death is very high, something we do not ask of our own army. There was a small township standing in their way on their march south a few years ago. The inhabitants refused to allow the golden army to build a temple there. When the golden army insisted, and laid siege to the place, the residents swore they would burn the place to the ground if the army marched in. A thousand men went in, the fire was set, only a hundred or so survived. They are very, very determined.”

  “I remember that,” Yannassia said. “The residents had built tunnels to avoid the fire, I think. But it does not seem to have helped them.”

  “No, because the golden army dug them all out of the tunnels, tied them together in the main square and burned them alive. There was another town where they cut off the hand of everyone who took up arms against them. And there was a time when—”

  “Thank you, we get the idea,” Yannassia said.

  There was a long silence, while we digested that.

  At length, Yannassia sat back in her chair. “Very well. We cannot fight them directly. So what can we do?”

  “Two options… um, let me see,” Axandor said, shuffling his notes. “Ah, here we are. We can send additional troops to Shannamar to aid their defence. They can defend themselves at sea, but their standing army is very small.”

  “We have a training camp there already, so that is easy enough,” Yannassia said. “It also protects the river route to Bennamore. Very well. What is the second option?”

  Again Axandor read his notes. “Um… the supply lines are long. Yes, the golden army is now stretched out all the way from the Karningplain to the coast. We can… um, harass them.”

  “What supplies do they need from the Karningplain?” I said. “They have control of numerous self-supporting farming communities, especially along the Greenstone River, and now they have Dellonar, with its metalworking and fabrication industries.”

  Axandor looked at me blankly, licking his lips. He was never a quick thinker, but one of his commanders raised a hand. “They still bring a great deal from the Karningplain, Most Powerful. Not food or simple products, perhaps, but their own armour and weaponry, and the incense and books for their temples, for instance. Their religion is very important to them.”

  “That is how they first started, I think?” I said. “In the temples.”

  “Indeed,” the commander said. “They originated as temple guards. Boys are selected at the age of five, and taken into the temple, where they live apart from the general community and are trained in the necessary skills. The entire army is silent, all communication being by hand signals. It is said…” He hesitated. “It is said that their tongues are cut out to ensure their silence, but I do not know how true that might be.”

  “That is horrible,” Yannassia said. “No wonder they are fanatical, when they know nothing better. But I agree that we could perhaps attack their supply lines, if it can be done with little risk to ourselves. We do not want to invite retaliation, nor do we want to be drawn into any large-scale battles. We will fight to the death to protect Bennamore, but beyond the borders we must be more circumspect.”

  Ly raised a hand. “I might be able to help with the supply lines, Most Powerful. I can summon some of my war-beasts. They would enjoy a little harassment, I believe.”

  All eyes turned to him, some in open surprise, others frowning. Someone sniggered.

  “Thank you, byan shar,” Yannassia said gravely. “That is a generous offer.”

  Axandor’s fingers tapped impatiently on the table. “Surely we have no need of… of these war-beasts? And I for one do not want them back here. Our people were frightened enough by them last time.”

  “That is for you to decide, High Commander,” Ly said quietly.

  “Any assistance is welcome, surely?” Yannassia said. “I would be grateful for it, so long as these war-beasts are not directed at us.”

  “But that is the point – can he control them?” Axandor blurted. “Because I have to say that his management of this army of beasts has been less than impressive so far.”

  Ly’s chin lifted a little. “I have full control of my powers.”

  “Then are you a real god now?” Axandor said, reddening. “Because that is what we really need. This golden army is driven by a living god, and we could do with one of those on our side. So are you a god or just a man with a few lions at his beck and call?”

  ~~~~~

  “It’s a good point,” I said, as Arran and I retreated to the roof to check on the eagles and be alone for a while, leaving Ly explaining the possibilities to Axandor. “Everyone talks about the byan shar as a living god, but I’m not sure whether there’s any more to it than what we’ve seen already.”

  “The bonding with beasts, you mean?” Arran said, ruffling Kalmander’s neck feathers.

  “No, all the Blood Clans seem to have that ability, at least latently. I mean communicating with all the bonded war-beast riders, and summoning them, and then controlling them in battle. Oh, and the way they made their way through the black-bark forest, with the trees twisting out of their way, do you remember? I watched that through Ly’s eyes, and it was extraordinary. But I can’t think of any other abilities. He can’t heal, or improve the weather, or make fire.”

  “Nothing useful, you mean?” Arran said teasingly. “I quite agree, there is no point to him at all.”

  I didn’t smile. “I’m serious. What else can he do?”

  “He has only just come into his full power. Maybe something will emerge.”

  “But so far it only seems to have amplified the abilities he already has. I jus
t can’t see why he’s called a god,” I said fretfully. “Now, the golden army’s god, he can create a whirlwind.”

  “You think that was their god? It could be so. Control of the air – that is a mage power. So Kalmander says.”

  I looked sharply at Arran, and then at the black eagle, his golden eye watching me with apparent interest. With the other eagles, communication was a matter of feelings and conveying an image of where to go, for they had no words. But Kalmander was different, and not just in size and colour. There was a clear intelligence in his mind. But to communicate ideas? I found that hard to believe.

  “But my mother can’t do it, and she’s the most powerful mage we have,” I said, watching Kalmander carefully. He blinked at me, and I swear there was a surge of amusement in his mind. My own connection with him was no different from the other eagles – less, in fact, for while I could see his emotions, I couldn’t look through his eyes.

  “The pre-Catastrophe mages were far more powerful,” Arran said. “There are also people now who have a natural connection to something powerful, like wind, or fire, or water.”

  “So Kalmander says?”

  “Yes. He has seen many strange things in his lifetime, Drina. He knows a great deal.

  “Ask him if he knows why the byan shar is regarded as a god, then.”

  Silence, as Arran concentrated. Then his face cleared. “He knows nothing of the Blood Clans. He has never encountered them before. He has not previously been so far south, because the last time he was awake no one lived here.”

  “The last time he was awake.” I raised an eyebrow, and I swear that eagle laughed at me. Then he gently detached himself from Arran, tucked his head under one wing and went to sleep.

  “Ly is out of the meeting at last. Shall we go and find him?” Arran spoke easily, as if we had not just been considering an eagle who claimed to have been alive before people even came to Bennamore or the Clanlands. And how many hundreds of years ago was that? The time of the Three Princes, perhaps, so six, maybe seven hundred years ago. Was it possible? I’d never heard of such a thing, but the world was full of mysteries and magic, so perhaps it was true.

  As we made our way across the roof to the stairs, some of the guards were practising their archery with targets. Arran stopped to watch.

  “Do you want to pop a few arrows yourself?” I said. “You can go to the barracks whenever you like, or I’m sure you could train here if you prefer. The roof guards won’t mind, I’m sure.”

  “What? Oh, no, nothing like that. It just gives me an idea, that is all. A little experiment, and Cal would be ideal to help with it. I shall send word to Lakeside.”

  “Very mysterious,” I said. “Should I be worried?”

  He smiled, and wrapped an arm round my waist. “Not at all, but you need not know all the details, my love. Come on, Ly is waiting.”

  ~~~~~

  Ly was relaxed about his spat with Axandor. “He is High Commander,” he said. “His opinions must be respected.”

  “But they are based on prejudice,” I said.

  “Yannassia wants me to summon the war-beasts, and she usually gets her way,” Ly said with a smile.

  We were spending an hour with the children. Ly was cuddling Amandissia, who was feeling out of sorts, and I was holding Arrynyor, half asleep, on my knee. Arran was playing a game of stones with Callon. It would have been a delightfully domestic scene, were it not for the two bodyguards, an array of nursemaids and the steward, waiting watchfully to jump at the slightest need. I remembered the new mother with her tiny baby at the castle township, managing fine by herself with just an occasional visit from an older woman to help out. We did complicate our lives.

  “True,” I said. “Yannassia will drop gentle hints, and the commanders will work on Axandor, and in the fullness of time he will come round and believe it to be his own idea.”

  “That is the best way,” Ly said gravely. “It should not be imposed on him, or it undermines his authority.”

  “I think you’re beginning to get the hang of Bennamorian politics,” I said, patting his hand.

  Again he answered me seriously. “That is the blood-bonding, I believe. Some of your expertise filters through to me. Certainly it all makes a great deal more sense to me now.”

  “Well, I wish some of yours filtered through to me,” I said. “Tell me about being a living god, and whether you have any hitherto unsuspected powers. I am not Axandor’s greatest supporter, as you know, but he made a good point there. We could do with some god-like capabilities just now.”

  Ly chewed his lip, and I saw the struggle in his mind.

  “Oh, don’t tell me, let me guess – it’s hard to explain.”

  “Well, it is!” He could see my amusement, so he wasn’t offended.

  “Can you try?”

  He nodded. “I will try, but you must understand, it is all uncertain. I do not have clear memories, so I do not know what I might be capable of, but I will tell you what I can. The First Ancestor and the Four Sons brought five gifts with them from the great city by the northern sea. One you know of – the bonding of minds between Clanfolk. Then there is the way memories are passed down through the generations. You know of that also. The third you do not know – the power to shape wood.”

  “But I’ve seen it at work,” I said. “I watched you coming through the black-bark forest.”

  “Ah yes, the black-bark trees have some power of their own, separate from ours, and they respond to my power also. However, I cannot yet manipulate normal wood. That may be an ability that develops in time, I do not know.”

  “That’s three. What are the other two?”

  “Mist and lightning.”

  “Lightning! That sounds very useful.”

  He laughed. “Yes, it would be a powerful weapon, if I knew how to do that. But the ability to create a mist is useful too. All sorts of things can be hidden in mist.”

  I pondered that. Powerful weapons indeed, but we had no way to use them. “Is there anything you have to do to acquire these powers? Or is it a matter of waiting and hoping?”

  “That is what I do not know. I have no memory of them, nor have I dreamt about them. That is a common way for a memory to resurface, in a dream. Otherwise, it is just… feelings. But when we were at the castle township and one of the elders was talking of my father, I had a strong desire to see him again. That might well be a memory nudging my mind. So perhaps, when things settle down, I will take you and Arran to meet him, and we can talk to the elders of Wild Hunter Clan. Look, Arrynyor is fast asleep. Do you think he should be in bed now?”

  ~~~~~

  Cal arrived on his eagle the following sun, full of excitement. Arran whisked him away for his special project, whatever it might be. I was too busy with endless war preparation meetings to wonder what they were up to.

  That morning I had to attend an army supplies planning meeting. I was trying very hard to concentrate, but the commander who was speaking had a dreadfully soporific voice. I wondered if I could perhaps get away with one discreet yawn.

  But then Arran’s voice popped into my head, full of misery. “Drina? Drina?”

  “What is it? I’m a bit busy.”

  “When the lion chewed you, how did you come back to yourself so quickly?”

  “What? Gods, whatever’s happened?”

  “Nothing at all. I am fine. Just… experimenting with Cal. And now I am in the nothing place, and I want to get back.”

  “Oh. I just relaxed. Ly told me I was safe, and I believed him. That was—”

  “Most Powerful?”

  Everyone in the room was staring at me.

  “So sorry. Did you ask me a question?”

  “I asked if—”

  “Drina?”

  “Hush, I’m talking.” I realised at once that I’d spoken aloud, and clicked my tongue in annoyance.

  “I beg your pardon, Most Powerful?” The commander tried not to look offended, but the pursed lips gave her away.
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  “So sorry, Commander, I didn’t mean you. My drusse has been involved in… an incident. I shall be back in a moment.”

  I slipped into the ante-chamber, disrupting any number of waiting women, junior army people, scribes and servants, who had been busy gossiping. At my arrival, backs straightened, faces assumed serious expressions, groups sorted themselves into orderly lines and silence fell. Waving away the servants who rushed forward with trays of food or drink, I flopped into a chair.

  “Now, what is going on?”

  He didn’t answer, but his mind was bursting with excitement. When I looked through his eyes, there was Cal, shrieking with laughter, a bow in his hand. They were on the roof, of all places.

  “Arran?”

  “Oh, there you are! But you need not worry, I have worked out how to do it.”

  “How to—? Oh, by all the gods, did you get Cal to shoot at you? Are you insane?”

  “How else? It has to be a real threat or the defensive shell will not operate. So Cal shot me. He is a terrible bowman, I can tell you. It took him three attempts.”

  That was all I could get out of him, for they both went off into hysterical laughter again. Fuming, I went back into my dull meeting, and this time burning anger kept me from falling asleep.

  25: The Summoning

  “Don’t you ever do anything so stupid again!” I yelled, stamping furiously up and down the room. “What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that it was a clever way to solve the problem,” Arran said, a pained expression on his face. “How else can we learn to control this defence method except to experience it, and how else can we experience it except to encounter a real threat? We tried throwing a ball at each other, but that was not a real threat so nothing happened. I thought it was ingenious, personally.”