When sent after the man-killing stallion, he’d doddered back riding the horse, with a dim-witted smile and drool running down his face. Well, he hadn’t seen the drool, which the Idiot had probably wiped onto his sleeve along with the snot, since he was always bawling. Even after Zohak had thrown the Idiot into an impossibly deep trench, somehow he’d emerged and stolen his birthright.
The worst blow was to find out that the Idiot was his brother. Maybe he’d been dropped as a child, but Zohak knew that Atar could not be normal. It was as the old seer Monu had said. Atar wasn’t just an idiot; he was an “Evil Idiot.” There was no more time to be lost.
Zohak crept down the stone wall. His horror at this new ability didn’t stop him. His fingers had claws that extended to allow him to move easily. He scuttled from the shadow of one tree to the next. The Idiot had gotten his blankets and was waiting. He dreamily put his stupid melon of a head on a blanket and shut his eyes. Silently Zohak made his way in the dark, finally standing over the moronic shape of the Idiot. The man who’d taken what was his: his horse, his wife, his heritage as the Firestarter, and now his kingdom.
The snakes on his shoulders trembled with suppressed rage. They grew. They extended themselves, ready to spit the most toxic poison onto the vile Idiot.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Atar opened his eyes and stood. Kava stepped out of the shadows. He had his hammer in one hand and he dragged a medium sized anvil on a wooden pallet. Zohak was cringing on the ground with his hands over his ears. The snakes mewled in terror. Kava grabbed one snake and held it on the anvil. His hammer came down again and again until the thing was nothing more than mush. He grabbed the other cringing snake and then did the same. Finally, he looked at Zohak with eyes red from grief and anger. “Now it is your turn.”
“No, Kava. I must kill him,” Atar said. He looked like Mithra in a killing rage. Atar raised his mace and it whooshed down, but it stopped in mid-air. They saw the Goddess Anahita materialize. Her hand held back the mace. “Why?” Atar asked in a growl.
“My dear heroes, it cannot end this way. Zohak cannot be killed, just as his father, Dahaka, cannot be killed. Zohak’s fate will be far worse than death. Kava, you must make a very heavy iron chain and long iron nails. Atar, Bulliwuf, and Kava are to take Zohak to Mount Damavand. There you will chain him in the deepest cave and nail him to the stone. He will live there until the end of time. That place will be so foul that if even a bird flies over it, that poor creature will fall down dead. It is decreed, so shall it end.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Your Majesty, with your blessing, Bulliwuf and I will set off now. We plan to find that fabled land of the Water Dogs, where white horses graze near a crystalline lake.” Atar bowed slightly.
“It is you, Atar, the real Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms, from whom we ask for blessings,” Sugreeva said solemnly. “I have accepted your command and I will rule, but only as your humble servant until you so choose to return.”
The nobles in attendance were polite enough to look away as Sugreeva wept openly. Many others began to weep. Beerta of the Horde wailed and her followers raised a ululating cry of grief. Atar lift a hand and they fell quiet.
He was wearing his tiger skin with the teeth framing his face. He pulled it down. “I will always hear the call of my people. I give you three of my hairs. If you ever need me, burn one of them and I will appear within three days.”
The court bowed to him and followed him to the gates of the city. Mounted on Ishria the Stormy and flanked by Bulliwuf the Proud, Atar the Firestarter struck out of the city with a ferocious Paralatae Scythian war cry.
For hundreds of years minstrels sang ballads of his bravery and kindness. Scythians, Mongolians, and Persians told stories as they sat around campfires. The story of Atar and Bulliwuf lived on.
In the land of the Water Dogs, Ishria grazed freely with the white mares near the crystalline lake.
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About the Author
KB Forrest has researched ancient Indo-European history and folklore for several years, and brings to this novel his story-telling flair and the accurate details today’s readers demand. He is skilled in animal husbandry, primitive survival skills, and horsemanship. These talents allow him to imbue his stories with realistic elements.
KB lives on a farm in Northern Mississippi with his faithful dogs. He raises Brahman cattle and a large variety of birds. When not writing, he paints in oils and watercolors.
Table of Contents
- A hissing sound made him startle awake. The things were hungry. Desperately hungry. His shoulders burned. Nausea bloomed in him. It affected not just his stomach, but also every part of his body. The things wanted food. The vile, snaky odor of the creatures assailed his nostrils, but he refused to move. One of the creatures slithered through his hair as if it knew how the feeling terrorized him. Zohak opened his eyes to see one of them looming over his face. Suddenly, it attacked him, and when he screamed, it slithered down his throat questing. Questing for food. It did not find what it wanted, so it emerged as he gagged violently.
- “The only thing senior about you is your dragging, flaccid man-part,” the first said.
- Zohak smiled slowly then he laughed in his rich baritone, seemingly delighted with the proceedings. “My people! Can you ask for a clearer sign from the gods? I have come into my power as king, as you see. I am almost a god. Indeed, I am part-god, as is clearly obvious.” Zohak stepped forward and the snakes waved in the air above his head, tasting the air and relishing the fear of the watchers.
- Bulliwuf addressed the court. “I am only a guest, but I will state for the record that rather than being a sign from the gods, the snakes Zohak sports are a gift of the demons. In particular…”
- Atar was most displeased to see Heslin the Speaker Mage among the party of soldiers.
- Atar looked down at the excited, chattering faces. The people stood well back from their path. He could hear a blacksmith somewhere clanging on his anvil. The sharp sound of iron on iron carried over the noise of the people. Atar caught glimpses of little gardens in front of the modest houses, but for the most part, all he could see was the crowd. The dusty main street was lined with shops. It did not take them long to find the inn. It was a solid two-story structure with a steeply peaked roof.
- The mayor shivered at the sight of Bulliwuf, but his wife sashayed over to fuss over him. The table was laden with food. Monases, Tiridates, Heslin, and Ezad were seated to Atar’s right. The wife whispered into Bulliwuf’s ear and he answered softly. Atar was jealous when he saw Bulliwuf’s fingers gently and subtly graze the woman’s arm. She went back into the kitchen part of the house and returned with a large roast that was barely cooked. This she placed in front of Bulliwuf. He ate with the dignity of a king, but with the voracious appetite of a werewolf.
- “Atar, it is something that they are not a part of,” Bulliwuf said.
- The shivering town crier reached the settlement near the Dragon Caves. The torrential downpour obscured the outline of the town. This was the last of sixteen towns on his particular route and he was glad his circuit was over. Vainly, he squeezed water out of his dripping tunic. The news of Zohak’s ascension to the throne had, of course, spread like wildfire. The shocking murder of the beloved Queen sent shockwaves through the land. To his relief, people took note of him immediately, even as he approached, thanks to his distinctive uniform. Despite the rain, they assembled in the town square, eager for news.
- Sophene hurried to her huge closet and rummaged around until she found the leather pack that she had used for part of her luggage. Working fast, she snatched two changes of clothes and a quilt from the bed. Warmer clothes would have been better, but she didn’t dare waste the time. There was just enough room at the top of the pack for a few days worth of food.
- The mother choked back a sob. “It’ll come to no good. Our dear daughter! The Emperor has never even been to this
part of the city. There’s no way he could have seen her and fallen in love, but they say she will be a royal wife? It must be some terrible plot.”
- Atar and the party camped in the early evening on the wide-open country. The sunlight was maturing into a golden glow that spread across the land. Atar looked out at the mountains on the horizon. A warm wind was blowing like silk across his skin.
- Slowly, Atar raised his bow, careful not to make any sudden moves. With his powerful archer’s forearms, he drew the bowstring back. He aimed carefully at the vital organs in the forward part of the creature’s ribcage. There was an eternal moment just before Atar let the arrow fly. The buck never saw it coming. He died instantly, collapsing to the ground without a sound.
- “And what of me in particular? What do they say of me?” Zohak asked.
- “Bull! She was all beautiful and peaceful in her bridal bed.” The man broke off, as his blue eyes filled with tears. He was thinking about his own daughter. Worry filled his heart. He feared he had made the greatest mistake of his life. She had been taken for the tithe. The soldier had said she would work as a servant in the most sumptuous part of the castle. He had said that she would be trained to apply cosmetics for the ladies of the court and would do no manual labor. She would have fine clothes and learn fancy talk. She would only be working a few hours of the day and the rest of the time, she could visit with friends or do whatever she wanted.
- Atar urged Ishria forward to where Sugreeva and Heslin were bobbing along at the very front of the party, crowing to the world.
- “Hello?” came an irate voice from the front of the party. “I told that barbarian to set out my tea. Sophene? Sophene? Why is no one stopping for tea?” Sugreeva asked. “Well, hurry up! Honestly, do you expect me to eat in the saddle?”
- “You give it to him Kava!” one man shouted. There were excited murmurings as Kava shoved his way through the crowd, which parted for him with alacrity.
- “Fetch him at once,” Zohak ordered. “I assure you, good citizen, that this was an error on the part of my service members. How can I make this right to you?”
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