Whom The Gods Love

by M. M. Perry

  Selina rubbed her forehead with her fingertips.

  “Wait, Cass, don’t be angry with me,” Selina said, stopping Cass just as she stooped to go out the door. “I love you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fight,” Selina said softly.

  “It’s okay,” Cass said from the door, “I know.”

  “I have to ask,” Selina hurried before Cass could go outside. “The boy... are you planning to go to the Village of Light?”

  “Yes,” Cass said.

  “I thought the days when you did those types of things were over, after...”

  “This is different. He wishes to be a warrior. He is eager to become a man,” Cass said, trying to dismiss her own doubts as she explained it to Selina.

  “Perhaps... but still,” Selina replied pointedly.

  “It is his aunt that brought him for the purpose, not I,” Cass said simply.

  “She is not his aunt, but I think you already know that. Do you think she has explained it to the boy yet?” Selina asked, turning back to the fire.

  “Either way, he'll find out soon enough. We can hardly cross Coterman’s Pass without an enchanter. Why can't they just take damned gold like everyone else?” Cass asked no one in particular as she finally stepped out, closing the door behind her.

  Selina stared at the fire, stirring the ashes.

  “So at last it has come,” she said. She sighed deeply and brushed away a tear.

  Nat was petting a young griffin. The rest of the group, save Inez, had circled around a few feet away, watching with nervous awe. Cass looked up from monitoring Nat with the griffin to see Inez clearly casting about for a place to sit down.

  “Over here, these stones should still allow you to have a good view,” Cass said pointing to some small boulders that had fallen off the statue of Timta.

  Inez sat down carefully and motioned for Cass to join her. She watched Nat for a few more seconds. He and the griffin seemed to have really taken to each other. It would probably be safe for her to wander that far away.

  “Tomorrow we head to the Village of Light,” Inez said quietly as soon as Cass was seated. Cass understood this wasn't a question.

  “That is the plan,” Cass said. “Does he know why you really brought him?”

  “That is not why I really brought him,” Inez snapped. “I also brought him to teach him to be a warrior. That is what he wants to be. Before I took him in, he was more like a whipped dog than a boy. He was sickeningly poor, and was the target of many cruel jokes and much malcontent. This trip will change him. Part of becoming a warrior is becoming a man. Part of being a man is doing your duty even if it means sacrificing yourself. And I hardly think he will find this to be much of a sacrifice,” Inez said.

  “That may be true,” Cass nodded, “but I have to be sure it’s what he wants. I’ve been tricked once before regarding this. I swore to myself I would never take an unwilling young man there again. If you don't tell him before we leave here, then I will.”

  “Why can't you leave well enough alone? He’ll be fine. I know him better than you,” Inez said, scowling.

  “Because you’re his aunt,” Cass said folding her arms, “right?”

  Inez narrowed her eyes at Cass.

  “His mother had never been able to afford to keep him. When she grew ill, it got worse. She feared she would die and leave behind a son without any way to get by on his own in the world. I did her a favor, and she thanked me for it. I do you a favor by my actions, too, as you very well know.”

  Cass held up her hands, “I mean no insult. I'm just pointing out that you might not know his mind. It would be better if he went into this knowing, wouldn't it?”

  Inez looked over to Nat. He was still playing with the griffin, scratching it under its beak. She sighed.

  “He is ten and seven years. He is ready. He will want this. But if you are too foolish to trust me, then you tell him. I do not wish to,” Inez said and then added insincerely, “I also wanted to tell you, I don't mind that the Braldashad is looking at you, and I will move aside if he wishes it. Of course, if he changes his mind, I expect you to do the same for me.”

  Cass bowed deeply as she stood up.

  “Of course,” she replied. Already heading towards Nat to begin the task of getting him to give up the griffin, she failed to see the angry glint in the old woman’s eyes.

  Chapter 3

  The small party awoke to the smell of simmering stew. They found Selina in the main room, leaning over a pot, stirring it.

  “Good morning everyone. The mists are thick this morning, so you'll want to be careful as you travel until the sun is high enough to burn through it,” Selina said as she began ladling stew into bowls.

  Cass cursed, attracting Callan’s attention. She was looking out one of the windows.

  “What is it?” Callan asked as he joined her at the window.

  Callan looked out but he couldn’t see much of anything in the opaque white that pressed up against the window. It was as if the clouds themselves became too tired to float in the air, so had come to rest upon the land. Callan couldn't make out a single god out on the plains.

  “This is not good, I take it,” Callan said a little worried.

  “It is not preferable,” Cass said. “The harpies may still be active in the mist. They’ll see it as an opportunity to hunt during the day.”

  “Should we wait until later in the day to leave then?” Callan asked.

  “We cannot,” Gunnarr said, taking a break from loudly enjoying his stew.

  “If we wait for the sun to burn the mists off the field, we will not reach the other side of the plains by nightfall. Either way, unless you wish to give up an entire day, we will have to walk the plains when the harpies are hunting. The mists are generally safer than the dark. Most of the harpies will be too tired to continue hunting during the day, while all would be upon us at night. If we go now, we’ll only encounter the few opportunists who might not have gotten their fill last night.”

  “Great,” said Callan drearily, “a few harpies looking for dessert by day, or a whole cackle looking for breakfast at night.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Cass said. “I have traveled through the mists many times. We will just have to be more careful,” she glanced around the group before going to Nat. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Can I have a word?”

  Gunnarr stood up before Nat could reply.

  “Do you want me to do this?” he offered.

  Cass looked at Gunnarr surprised.

  Gunnarr had overheard the conversation between Cass and Inez the night before, and knew what Cass planned to discuss with Nat. He also knew that it was a conversation a young man might be a little embarrassed to have with a woman.

  “You know what…” Cass said.

  Gunnarr nodded surreptitiously.

  “Why don’t you... yes, perhaps that would be best,” Cass said.

  Gunnarr gave Nat a mighty slap on his back.

  “Come young warrior, help me gather the horses.”

  Nat scrabbled to comply. As Gunnarr followed him outside, Cass put her hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

  “Thank you.”

  Gunnarr smiled shyly, then nodded and continued outside.

  Cass turned around to find Selina smiling at her.

  “I'm glad you are having someone speak with the boy. You never know when a young man is ready for such a thing.”

  “Says you,” said Inez irritably.

  Selina looked curiously at the old woman.

  “Why are you on this journey?”

  Callan looked up from his stew.

  “The seer told me to find her. And she did lead me to the pub where I found not one, but two warriors willing to take me to the Temple of Oshia. Despite my initial misgivings, I have to admit she’s been helpful.”

  “I'm sure she has,” Selina said, never looking away from Inez, who was glaring back at her, “though I imagine any number of people could have told you about th
e pub.”

  “Perhaps,” said Callan, suddenly curious at Selina’s line of inquiry, “All I know is my seer said she was needed. He couldn’t tell me why. And I can’t get the old woman to tell me if she has any particular skills.”

  Inez remained stubbornly silent on the matter, despite everyone looking at her curiously.

  “Well,” Selina said crossing her arms, “Cass will get you through. I’m sure of it.”

  They all ate in silence for a while, until the door opened and Gunnarr poked his head in.

  “It is done. He is ready.”

  Cass stood up.

  “Well, I guess it's now or never.”

  As the group had filed out of the house, Gunnarr began ushering them onto their waiting mounts. Cass held back to get a moment alone with her mother.

  Once everyone else had left, Cass gave Selina a long hug. Selina stroked Cass’ hair, tears threatening to fall.

  “You have been a good mother,” Cass said quietly.

  “And you have been a good daughter,” Selina said.

  Selina pulled away first and gave her adoptive daughter a little push.

  “Go now, before it gets too late. A woman’s life depends on you,” she said.

  Cass gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek, then headed purposefully out. Selina watched her go and finally allowed the tears to fall down her face.

  Outside, Cass rejoined the group. Nat was standing next to his pony. He seemed to be in a bit of a daze. Cass gave Nat an encouraging pat on the back. He looked up at her and smiled.

  “Are we ready?” she asked the group cheerfully, while looking down at Nat specifically.

  Nat nodded. He mounted his pony without much hesitation. The old woman grumpily got into her wagon and set about attaching a vegetable to her stick.

  “Do we have a plan for this mist thing?” Callan asked, gesturing to the thick fog around them.

  “Yes, stay close and stay closer,” Cass said as she mounted her horse, “and whatever you do, don't leave the group, no matter what you might hear. The harpies aren't likely to attack a party with two warriors, especially not during the day, but if they separate you from us, well, let's just say I'm not eager to scale a god to collect your remains.”

  “Right,” said Callan hopping onto his horse, “close it is.”

  They traveled slowly, with Cass at the front and Gunnarr at the rear. The others were clustered in between them. At Cass' suggestion they traveled as quietly as they could, so as not to alert any harpies that might still be up. For the first half Callan was rigidly alert, reins gripped as tight as possible. He thought he kept hearing things swooping around, just out of sight. But after more than an hour in the fog, Callan began to feel a little confident, and had even begun to relax his grip a little, and settle in to the rhythm of his mount’s jog. Nothing had happened so far, and Cass and Gunnarr didn't seem particularly concerned. He finally convinced himself that the swooping sounds he thought he heard had just been his imagination.

  Then Callan heard the baby cry and his heart stopped. The sound was uncannily accurate; a baby, screaming at the top of its lungs. To hear the wail so loud, so close, and coming from somewhere in the uncharted blankness around them sent chills down his spine. Callan looked to Cass. She was steadily moving forward, seemingly unconcerned. But he noticed she had drawn her long sword and was holding it at the ready by her side. Callan looked behind and saw that Gunnarr had done the same.

  After a few minutes of unabated, loud wailing, the baby’s squall went abruptly silent. The silence of the mist rushed back in, disturbed only by the sounds of hoof beats and Inez’s creaking cart for a few moments. Then, a woman's voice called out.

  “Somebody please... please help me. I don't know where I am! I can't see anything. Please help. They've eaten my leg. I can't move. For the sake of the gods, have mercy on me. Help me before they come back… Nooo, no… go away, go away, go away!” the words were cut off by a blood curdling scream, which broke down into choking sobs.

  “Could it be real?” Callan asked, desperate to stop the soft sobbing coming from the mist.

  “No,” Cass said tersely, “Stay calm.”

  Callan swallowed heavily. He couldn’t make out anything more than a half dozen feet away in the fog. The ground began to dip a little in a natural depression and the fog thickened. Callan could not even see the other riders now. He whipped his hand back and forth in front of his face fruitlessly trying to clear the air, hoping for a break in the fog. As he spun his gaze back to the right again a scream caught in his throat.

  A hideous face hovered in the air, inches from him. The face was a mockery of a woman's. The nose was covered in shimmering scales that might have been attractive had the rest of the face not set the tone. The mouth was curled into a permanent sneer. Sharp teeth ringed the mouth, stained, with scraps of rotting flesh caught between some of them. The eyes were like a bird of prey’s, golden and fierce. The skin was mottled and pitted with deep irregular scars. There was some hair framing the face, but it was thin and patchy. Great sections of the scalp were bare of hair, and looked raw and suppurating.

  Callan was about to let out the scream that he had held back until now when two hands shot out of the mist and grabbed the skinny neck of the harpy. In the blink of an eye, the creature's neck was snapped. Just then, a gust thinned the mist enough for Callan to see that the arms were attached to Cass. Cass dropped the creature to the ground, and Callan was able to take a look at the rest of the harpy now. It was a great bird-like creature with fearsome talons and dark, filthy looking feathers.

  Callan looked back up at Cass, wordless. She was still on her horse. Gunnarr rode up alongside them to take a look at the carcass.

  “A young one,” Gunnarr said simply.

  “Yes. Foolish to leave its pack. Alone, it’s an easy target. But this isn’t done. The others will smell its death soon enough. We don’t want to be in the mist when that happens,” Cass said.

  She moved back to the head of the group and Gunnarr resumed his place at the rear. Callan did his best to keep a promise he’d just made himself—to remain face forward at all times for the remainder of the trip through the Plains of the Dead Gods.

  The rest of the trip through the plains went smoothly, though Callan was haunted by the sounds of the woman screaming for help. The memory of the screams lingered, echoing behind him all through the plains. He hoped Cass had been right, and this time it was a harpy’s mimicry. He was almost certain she was right, but the thought nagged at him, and he couldn’t get past the idea that this could have been that rare occasion that the call for help was real. He worried that they may have left a woman on the fields behind them, screaming and defenseless, to be picked apart. He wondered if this time Cass might be wrong. Callan began to realize that a part of him still didn’t trust the great warrior woman completely.

  The party slowed to a halt on the edge of the plains. The sky was darkening and a chill drifted on the night air. Callan uselessly wished for some shelter to camp in for the night, even a hut would do. He was unused to sleeping out in the open like this, practically right on the ground. Normally when he travelled, his caravan would include a bed and the other bits of furniture he couldn’t travel without. Enough to fill his personal tent, complete with bedroom and study, as well as his pavilion. Normally, when he stopped for the evening an entire cityscape of brightly colored shelters would erupt from the countryside, to house first and closest to him the members of the peerage that traveled with him, then his knights, and further out the servants. Callan found himself thinking back on the last time he’d been out, with his wife, before she had become too ill to travel.

  As soon as everyone stopped, Cass and Gunnarr hopped down off their mounts. Callan was so deep in thought, he didn’t notice.

  “Wait a moment, good king,” Cass said, startling him back to the moment. Cass came to him, offering her hand to help him down.

  Callan looked around, nervously gripping the pommel on
the saddle.

  “We’ll scout out the area first, just to be safe,” she told Callan as she scanned the perimeter of the camp site, “just because we’re out of harpy territory doesn’t mean we’re out of danger.”

  When Callan still didn’t take Cass’ hand after several moments, Cass headed straight out into the gloom of the plains. Gunnarr followed closely behind her, both stopping intermittently to peer around into the dark and listen. When they finally vanished silently into the darkness, Callan looked on uncomfortably.

  “What happens if they die?” he asked.

  “We should be so lucky,” Inez said, crankily dismissing his concerns.

  “I thought you liked the Braldashadian, at least” Callan remarked.

  “After he proved what terrible taste he has in women? Clearly he’s soft in the head,” Inez snorted.

  “I don’t think we need to worry,” Nat said with more than a little admiration in his voice. “Either one of them could take on a pack of harpies. Nothing’s going to stop the both of them.”

  Inez made a derisive noise, but said nothing.

  Just beyond earshot of the group, which was considerably farther than eyesight in the gloom, Cass and Gunnarr quietly stalked a perimeter around the proposed campsite. Cass was fully focused on the darkness around her, searching with all her senses for any signs of danger.

  “I haven’t seen or heard anything,” Cass whispered to Gunnarr, “and by my estimation we’ve circled the site twice fully now.”

  “Indeed. It seems safe,” Gunnarr said, his deep voice reassuringly close by, considerably more than a whisper, “for now.”

  “You’re right. We should post a watch. Thankfully once we have an enchanter, that won’t be necessary,” Cass said.

  “I’ll take first watch,” Gunnarr said, “unless you prefer?”

  She waved off his offer, “all yours.”

  Cass and Gunnarr headed back to the little tightly clustered party. As soon as they stepped back into sight, Nat lit up.

  “Everything okay?” Nat asked eagerly as he hopped off his pony.