“Majesty if you would be so kind, I’d prefer to attend to other matters. I am lost in the affairs of finance, trade rights, land grants and tax revenues.”
“Ha!” Rederick blurted. “No, I will not be so kind today. First, I want everyone present as I appoint Lord Menak the position of Loszian Counselor. Second, if you truly are to blame for all of this, consider this to be your punishment.”
The Dahken seemed to shrink suddenly to half the size of the large king as in sank the weight of his words. Cor thought that he’d rather fight an endless number of Nadavs for all eternity than sit through such a Council session, for surely that’s how such a session would feel. Like a petulant child, he kicked a booted foot at a fist sized stone, smooth and round on one side and jagged on the other. In a slight spray of dirt, the stone lifted from the ground and bounced its way down the ridge. King Rederick laughed, wrapped his arm around Cor’s shoulders and led him to the large tent to which the Council had been called.
* * *
Cor’s head throbbed like nothing he had ever felt before. After Menak’s acceptance of the position, to which there were many mixed reactions, the Council and the Seven Lords sat in conference for hours upon hours. They had started before midday, and the whirling negotiations, subtle shrewdness and mathematics of it all had caused Cor’s head to spin after only an hour or two. The talks had continued on until well after a reasonable time for dinner, and finally Rederick called for an end to it all.
“We’ll adjourn until tomorrow,” he said, painfully rubbing his eyes, and they all filed out of the tent into the late sun. The orange orb hung low in the early evening sky. Cor was only too happy to escape the entrapping machinations of the Seven Lords. More than once he nearly slapped the table and called for Rederick to give the Tigoleans whatever they wanted just to end the torture. They hadn’t even begun to introduce the Loszians to the laws of Rederick’s rule.
Cor stepped lively to catch Keth, who seemed to be moving away from the council tent rather quickly. “Where are you off to?” he asked the younger Dahken.
“You know where, Lord Dahken,” Keth replied, not unkindly.
“Do you trust her?”
“It seems we are always asking each other that question… About as much as you do, but she did swear to you. I don’t think she’ll betray us again, if that’s what you’re asking,” Keth clarified.
“Do you know why she came back? She could have gone anywhere in the world, and she came back to you, maybe even to die at your side.” Cor paused before he asked the question again, “Why?”
“I’d like to think she loves me,” Keth answered softly, “but the truth is she had no place else to go.”
Cor stopped his pace, causing Keth to continue past for several yards before he realized it. The younger Dahken turned, and his inscrutable face masked whatever he thought or felt. “What is it?” he asked.
“Be with her if you love her, but be careful,” Cor warned. Keth nodded with a tired smile, turned and continued on his course for his tent.
Cor trudged to his own tent, the action of the previous day mixed with the headache causing mundanity of Council adding substantial weight to his limbs. He felt as if they dragged him down, and by the time he reached the tent, his legs no longer wanted to move. A Western guard in full plate armor stood outside – a requirement of Rederick even though Cor assured the king that both he and Thyss could protect themselves and their son. The mailed guard stood slightly more erect as Cor passed and ducked through the low hanging canvas flaps.
Inside he found Thyss sitting cross legged upon the hard ground with a wooden bowl in her lap. It seemed to contain a stew of sorts with some kind of white meat, rabbit most likely, and numerous tubers. Cor’El sat in front of her, and she fed them both from the bowl, taking a bite for herself and then following it up with a mushy tuber for their son. Thyss had been thrilled when he cut his first teeth, because she used it as a reason to immediately stop nursing the boy.
Cor suddenly felt far too tired to be bothered with removing his armor. He unstrapped his belt holding Soulmourn and Ebonwing and dropped heavily onto the ground, using the tent’s strong center post to prop him upright. He let his belt and weapons drop beside him, and he thought he heard a slight cry of indignation.
“Are you hungry?” Thyss asked without looking up.
“No, just tired.”
Thyss fed Cor’El another bit of what looked like potato and growled in annoyance when he spit it back out. She wiped it off of his chin as it slid downward and flicked her hand out to the side, sending the smashed former contents of his mouth through the air to land somewhere unseen. Cor’El seemed to follow it for a moment and then opened his mouth again.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you all day,” Thyss said.
Cor felt a slight sense of alarm, but was too tired to care. “We’re going to have another child?”
“By the gods, no!” she almost yelled at him, but the words turned to laughter. “No, I wanted to talk to you about things that happened yesterday, incredible things.”
“Like you almost getting yourself killed?”
The upturned corners of her mouth quickly changed direction, and her face hardened. “No. Must you do this? Look, we live in a fucking dangerous world, and one day I’m going to fucking die. You’re going to have to deal with that fact. As far as yesterday’s concerned, thank the gods we brought him with us and didn’t leave him in Byrverus as you wanted to do.”
“I’m sorry,” Cor mumbled like a sullen child as his son crawled across the few feet that separated them. The gray skinned baby pulled himself by Cor’s legguards up into his father’s lap and began to babble happily. “You’re right of course, but I think I’m done thanking the gods.”
“I’ve never been much for religion, but even I know blasphemy when I hear it. The gods have given you power beyond the imagination of mere mortals, even other Dahken. They have blessed our son with even more. I have no doubt that he will rule all of Rumedia, should he so desire it.”
“Should he so desire it,” Cor repeated quietly, and Thyss took it for agreement. He raised his voice a bit for his next words, “However, I don’t think they actually gave him or me or you anything. We’re born with it. It’s in our blood. If anything, all they gave him is the knowledge, the understanding that it’s there.”
“How did you come to such a conclusion?” she asked suspiciously.
“Dahk told me,” Cor replied bluntly in a tone that left no room for question.
Thyss digested his statement for a moment, and at her silence, Cor leaned his head back against the post. He was about to doze off when she asked, “So what do we do now?”
Cor widened his eyes to stave off the sleep that was about to claim him and cleared his throat. “Now? Well -”
“Excuse me Lord, Lady,” said the guard from outside, raising his voice to be sure he was heard in the tent.
“What is it? Enter,” Cor called out.
The mailed guard ducked into the tent, causing the small space to feel somewhat crowded. Cor bolted upright off of the tent’s post when he saw the diminutive figure that followed the guard. The man was clearly Tigolean, aged and wizened with white hair and tightly stretched skin. His white mustache looked almost comical in that each end of it dropped at least eight inches below his chin, long in contrast to his height that was only just over five feet. His back was bent, a trait common to the old, and Cor thought the man may have been closer to six feet in his youth. The man’s eyes seemed almost black, like bottomless pits of ancient knowledge.
“This old man insisted on coming to you,” the guard explained. “I tried to tell him that the hour was late and that he should come back tomorrow, but he would not listen.”
“It’s fine,” Cor dismissed. As he stood, he gently set his son off to the side, and the boy immediately charged off on his hands and knees after something he’d spied. “Please leave us.
“I was told you’d come,” Cor said once
the guard had done as he was told.
“Then you are Lord Dahken Cor Pelson,” the Tigolean concluded with a slight bow. His Western was perfectly concise and exact with no trace of an accent at all, cleaner and purer than most Westerners. “I recognize you from the Chronicles I have recorded about you and the lovely Lady Thyss and your son. May I ask, how did you know I would be here this day?”
“Well, I didn’t know it would be today,” Cor replied, “but Dahk told me you were coming. You’re a scholar.”
“Dare I to sound presumptuous, I am the Hand of the Chronicler, or one of them at least. The Chronicler Himself has entrusted to me a new Chronicle, perhaps the greatest and most important ever written in history. I knew that I must bring it to you at once.”
“Would someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?!” shouted Thyss, and both men looked at her as if appalled.
“Lately you seem to be using that word quite a bit,” Cor chided.
“In absence of the action,” Thyss mumbled.
“At this point,” Cor said calmly, ignoring her statement, “you know about as much as I do, just what was said right here. The only other thing I know is what Dahk said – this man is here to tell us is the truth.”
“Lord Dahken if I may step outside a moment,” Ja’Na motioned to the tent flaps behind him, “your man required me to leave something outside.”
Cor nodded, and the aged Tigolean disappeared. Thyss looked as if she might explode, either literally or in verbal profanities at any moment, and Cor took her hand and kissed it lightly for calm. The old man returned within a few breaths time, and in his hands was a beautiful block of ivory. He knelt and placed it lovingly on the ground and then revealed it as a case, sliding the lid upwards off of the bottom. Inside was a scroll, resting easily on a velvet bed.
“Lord Dahken, I have come over a thousand of miles to bring you this Chronicle.”
* * *
I’ve finally done it. I’ve finally finished the last element of my plan, my duty to the people of Arcturus and SACA. I’ve used the station’s arrays to send dozens of transmissions across this small corner of the universe that mankind has explored. Earth, Mars, Pollux, Aldebaran and every other colonized world and space station will receive these transmissions, and in them is contained the entire history of Arcturus V and how it came to be what it is. I’ve held nothing back.
It provides clear evidence of everything for which Zheng is responsible – deaths of thousands, genetic manipulation and the absorption of basic human rights just to name a few of the big ones. Some of the transmissions will take decades to reach their destinations, but that doesn’t really matter. The ships in orbit around Arcturus will disseminate the information far more quickly. Zheng will have nowhere to hide. All the people of SACA will know what he has done. Unfortunately, his command is large, and who knows how deep he has his fingers dug into the main fleet.
It’ll probably mean civil war. The good news is that it will give SACA and the Earth Muslim Coalition a common enemy, common ground to continue to build their relationship. People will die, but they’re military. They knew the risks when they signed up like I did. Hopefully, it will save far more lives in SACA and the EMC as they work together than it’ll cost.
I also sent private messages to Dix and Martinez. They’re coded for privacy, but Dix is good. She’ll find it, I’m sure.
35.
“The Loszian gods must die,” Cor said. Rederick looked up sharply to meet his friend’s eyes, and Menak shifted very slightly in his chair.
It had been another long day of negotiations with the Seven Lords, but as the sun began to reach the horizon, agreements began to forge. The expectation was that all would be finished before noon the next day, with the Seven Lords choosing one from their number to serve on the Council. Rederick couldn’t easily argue the point as the Seven would be so intertwined in the happenings of the Shining West for decades if not centuries to come. Of course, their lands in the West would be subject to Rederick’s rule as well.
The king had happily called an end to the day’s meeting and dismissed all involved, and he was less than happy to see neither Cor nor Menak move from their seats. Clearly, the two had already schemed together, and Rederick had assumed it had something to do with the block of marble that lay on the table next to Cor’s place during the deliberations. He hadn’t expected Cor’s statement.
“Must we discuss it now?” Rederick asked with a groan. “Can it not wait until tomorrow? Never mind, I know you, and I know that you’ll not let it rest. How do you suggest we kill gods?”
“They’re not gods,” Cor replied. “I don’t know what they are, but they are not gods. They’re men, ancient, powerful men. The Loszians, Dahk, Garod, all of them are just men.”
“I don’t understand how you can say such,” Rederick gasped. “Garod grants me the ability to heal, Dahk gives your kind their…gifts… and other gods bestow upon their followers other powers. How are they not gods?”
“Majesty, I don’t wish to offend your sensibilities. I only say that if you read the scroll contained within this case,” Cor said gently, placing his hand on the ivory, “you may begin to understand. Dahk has spoken with me twice, and he told me that the Chronicle in this case is absolutely true. If you view him a god, would you doubt him?
“It doesn’t matter right now anyway. We can have those debates later. Right now, I have to deal with those that our gods call The Others.”
“Lord Menak, how do you feel about the death of your gods?” Rederick asked the Loszian.
“Majesty, I have had little need for them over the years,” Menak answered. “Just as I long avoided the entangling web of politics that my fellow Loszians weaved for so long, I also ignored the gods. Some of my contemporaries might have… concerns with the Lord Dahken’s decision to rid Rumedia of our gods, but I do not. I know that my race continues on through our blood, and we no longer need them.
“Regardless, they cannot be trusted. It is difficult enough to control the ambitions of men, and we must worry for the ambitions of gods as well? How long before another Nadav prostrates himself before them and asks for limitless power to conquer the world? Will we always have Lord Dahken Cor to save us?”
Cor nodded slightly as Menak spoke. Cor had come to him before the Council, and it had taken little to no urging to convince the Loszian of what must be done. As it turned out, the sorcerer was in full agreement from the beginning, and the two spent only a matter of minutes forming their plan. It was only a matter of informing King Rederick of what must be done.
Cor’s mouth twitched very slightly at the thought of asking gods for limitless power. How long before men and women understood that they had to ask no one? Am I the first? he wondered. That would make Cor’El the second, for already the boy knew power. As strong as Thyss was, she had never figured it out, though she had had glimpses of it.
“Well then, how do you intend to do it?” Rederick asked.
Cor simply stared into empty space for a moment before he realized that both the king and Loszian seemed to be waiting for something. “I’m sorry. What?” he asked.
“How do you intend to kill gods?” Rederick asked again.
“The same way I killed the Loszians in the valley.”
“I do not completely understand that as it is,” Rederick grumbled, furrowing his brow.
“The Loszian gods are some weeks ride away, in a meteor that crashed to Rumedia thousands of years ago. As it was explained to me by Taraq’Nok, the meteor was their repository, the place that held them.”
“As it still is,” Menak interjected. “That is where Nadav went to kneel in supplication to the gods.”
“Whatever they are, they’re in that crater,” Cor concluded. “I will go there and turn the crater, the meteor and everything within it to blood.”
* * *
Late in the night, well after the sun had passed below the horizon and the moon was high in the sky, Cor gently slid out from unde
r Thyss’ arm. He stood from their bedroll and looked down on her sleeping form. Cor’El lay nearby on a pallet of wool blankets, his left thumb in his mouth. Cor didn’t know which one he loved more, and nor did he care. He didn’t want to leave them behind, but he knew this was his only opportunity. If Thyss caught wind of his plans, she would never allow him to go alone, and he couldn’t possibly risk them.
He looked wistfully at his armor, the black armor of Noth that had served him so well for years. He wished he could take it with him, but he couldn’t risk waking the others. Instead, he quietly pulled on a simple wool tunic and breeches and pushed his feet into his hard leather boots. No doubt the boots looked odd without his sabatons and legguards, but fashion was not Cor’s concern at this point. He took his sword belt and stole away into the warm night, and it was not far to Menak’s tent.
“You are late, Lord Dahken,” Menak whispered.
“Thyss didn’t go to sleep right away,” he replied. “She had other plans.”
“Tell me no more. Are you prepared?”
“I am,” Cor answered. “Into the circle?”
“Of course. You take no supplies? Food? Water?” the Loszian asked.
“I can fend for myself. Besides once Thyss realizes what we’ve done, she’ll be riding hard for the meteor anyway. I hope she doesn’t burn you to a crisp,” Cor said with a mischievous smile.
“I assure you that makes two of us. Good luck, Lord Dahken Cor.”
“Menak, you’re a good man.”
The Loszian only raised an eyebrow as he slapped his palm against the exposed stump of his wrist. As the light flooded everything in his vision, Cor thought for just a moment that he heard a child crying in the distance.
When his vision cleared, Cor found himself standing atop a grassy ridge, the bright light of the moon illuminating everything around him in shades of purple, blue and gray. He’d been here before, both in a dream and once in person during daylight. To his right, he saw the millennia grown over ruins of Noth’s tower, likely only visible to him because he knew they were there. To his left was the great trench dug by the meteor that had destroyed the tower those years ago. In the moonlight, Cor could only make it out as a depression that grew deeper until it became a trench.
The Cor Chronicles: Volume 04 - Gods and Steel Page 27
