The Godling Chronicles:Book 05 - Madness of the Fallen

by Brian D. Anderson

  Gewey knew what they were without being told. He took the urn from Dina, bowing his head with deep respect.

  “If you will come with me,” he said, “I will tell you all how brave and pure Maybell is. And what she did so that I might live.”

  “We should call for Lyrial,” suggested Kaylia.

  Gewey nodded his agreement, then led everyone inside the pavilion and asked them all to sit in a tight circle. When Lyrial arrived she was laughing uncontrollably. That was, until Kaylia cleared her throat to get her attention.

  “Can he be real?” Lyrial asked.

  “He is real,” said Kayla. “And he has a tale to tell.”

  “One that I would not miss for every drop of water in the desert,” said Weila.

  Once they were all settled, Gewey began recounting his experiences in Shagharath, making certain he left out no detail and stopping several times to answer questions. It took the better part of the day, but when he was finished the group was thoroughly astounded.

  “Such things do not even exist in legends,” remarked Linis. “And this god Melek that you spoke of – it is hard to imagine that his name could be wiped so completely from memory. Such an evil would be hard to erase.”

  “And what about Maybell?” added Dina. “It would seem her true destiny was revealed at just the right time. To think she held such knowledge for so many years and never understood why until now.”

  “Without her, I would still be under the yoke of Melek,” Gewey said solemnly. “And there I would have stayed, trapped in Shagharath until the end of time.”

  “And now that you are free, will you continue to Althetas?” asked Linis.

  Gewey shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. But I can tell you that this war will soon be over. Shagharath has given me the peace in my heart I've longed for. I have been fighting a battle ever since the first moment I discovered who and what I am; Kaylia knows this better than anyone. The part of me who is Gewey Stedding, and the part of me who is Darshan, have been in a constant struggle for control. Now that struggle is over.”

  “And who won?” asked Millet in his typical, calm yet scrutinizing manner.

  Gewey smiled and spread his hands. “I did. That is to say, both parts of me have emerged as one. The Gewey Stedding in me has tempered the steel that is Darshan, and for the first time in what seems like forever, I am whole.”

  “If your destiny is at hand, should you not seek out your foe?” asked Lyrial

  “I won’t need to seek him out,” said Gewey. “I intend to draw him away from his stronghold in Angrääl. I want his only hope for victory to be my death. I may not be in turmoil any longer, but that doesn’t make me all-powerful. If I march into the jaws of his strength, he may be able to defeat me. My experience with the Oracle showed me that his power is not to be underestimated. And my intuition tells me that there is something else hidden. Something I have yet to discover.”

  He shook his head. “No. I’ll be the one to choose the time and place of our battle. But in the meantime, people are still fighting and dying. That needs to be stopped as quickly as possible.”

  “Isn’t that why we go west?” asked Weila. “To aid our kin and allies?

  “Yes,” said Gewey. “And I think we should still go. But I have an idea, though I need more time to be sure it won’t lead us down the wrong path.”

  “You have friends to help,” Lee pointed out. “Friends with experience you don’t possess.”

  Gewey chuckled. “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten that I’m still the student. I promise to consult you later. But first of all, I think Maybell deserves to have her rites performed.”

  He looked to Dina. “How long will it take to get ready?”

  “The ceremony is simple,” she replied. “It’s the Farewell Song of Ayliazarah. That’s usually followed by a celebration, though I don’t see how that will be possible.”

  Weila slapped her knees. “Not possible? Bah! You clearly still know nothing of the desert elves. We may lack for wine, and our rations will make a meager feast, but we have fire, kinship, and songs enough to last until the light of the sun dims forever.”

  “Until dawn will do just fine,” said Gewey, smiling. He pushed himself to his feet. “And now, much as I have missed you all, I would like to spend some time alone with my wife.”

  The entire group nodded with understanding, and all grinned as Kaylia stepped beside him and slipped her arm around his waist.

  After everyone had departed, Kaylia stepped outside for a moment and returned with a plate of bread and dried meat, along with a jug of wine.

  It may not have been a feast, but they ate slowly, savoring every mouthful of their first meal together since being reunited. Once finished, Kaylia poked her head out of the flap and whispered a few words to the guards. A couple of minutes later two elves brought in a large clay pitcher of steaming hot water and sat it in the center of the pavilion. Kaylia retrieved a rag from the corner, which she dipped slowly into the water. Gewey grinned sheepishly.

  “Is there a reason that you are still dressed, my love?” she asked playfully.

  He reached into the pitcher and took the rag from her hand.

  “I was about to ask you the same question,” he responded.

  Chapter 14

  Dina performed the rites for Maybell flawlessly. Her clear, strong voice carried out over the entire camp as she sang the Farewell Song of Ayliazarah. At the beginning Gewey did his best not to weep, but he found himself succumbing to his sorrow long before the song ended. The sight of his tears encouraged at first dozens, then hundreds of the other mourners to join him in openly sobbing.

  With the ceremony completed, Dina held her arms wide and smiled brightly.

  “Let us rejoice in the memory of our friend, Sister Maybell,” she called out with splendid joy. “For she has earned a place in our hearts and put a song on our lips. May Ayliazarah bless her and keep her forever in the light of heaven.”

  Though the elves had never witnessed this ritual before, they instinctively knew that it was now time for the celebrations to begin. Their cheers erupted in a symphony of elation.

  Weila had been correct about the lack of wine and good food not hindering her kin from merrymaking. Within minutes, the sounds of small wooden flutes and gleeful voices could be heard throughout the encampment.

  Gewey and Lee were soon being challenged to wrestling matches and foot races, both of which Gewey respectfully declined. Lee, on the other hand, was in the mood for some sport. He won every match, and all but one race. Jacob clearly enjoyed seeing his father having fun and was more than willing to cheer him on. He even took part in one match himself. But unfortunately this was against Weila, and he was swiftly beaten.

  As it neared midnight, Bevaris and Tristan returned. After the initial shock of Gewey’s resurrection had worn off a little they managed to report that scattered units of Angrääl soldiers had been seen, every one of them heading south. None of these units appeared interested in the fact that a large elf army was close at hand, even though their presence would certainly be well known to the enemy by now.

  Gewey pulled Lee away from the festivities and together with Kaylia led him to an outlaying area where a small fire burned. This was surrounded by bedrolls and dishes.

  Lee pushed a blanket aside and seated himself close to the fire. “With all these games, it’s easy to forget that we are now in the dead of winter.” He looked up and smiled. “At least there’s no snow. I never did care for that white stuff.”

  “Not good for a man from Hazrah,” joked Gewey, taking a seat beside him.

  Kaylia pulled a flask of brandy from a pouch in her belt and passed it to Lee. “A gift from Linis.”

  Lee eagerly opened the flask and took a large gulp. The sweet scent filled the air, encouraging Gewey to breathe in deeply.

  “So, I take it that you want to tell me about this plan of yours,” Lee said, as he passed the flask over.

  Gewey held the flask under hi
s nose. “You know, I never thought I would learn to truly appreciate plum brandy. But after seeing Shagharath…” He paused to take a drink. “I feel there are many things I will never take for granted again.”

  Lee was still chuckling at this remark when Gewey added: “I think we should take Baltria.”

  The laughter quickly ceased. Lee sat back, raising an eyebrow. “Do you think we can?”

  “I think we must,” said Gewey. “King Lousis fights in the west. And I’m sure we can agree that Angrääl is staging its attack from Baltria’s port.”

  Lee nodded. “That would certainly be my guess. It’s probably why he moved there first, and why he secured the Goodbranch. But do we have the numbers for this? Even with you leading us, Baltria is well defended. The approach is made narrow by the swampy terrain and the city walls are thick and high.”

  “True,” agreed Gewey. “But if we succeed we take away the Dark Knight’s ability to supply his armies in the west. He’ll have to pull back and try to re-take the city.”

  “That, or he’ll march overland and concentrate his forces west,” countered Lee. “Hoping to win there, where resistance is most fierce.”

  “Either way, it disrupts his plans,” said Gewey. “With Angrääl out of Baltria we can choke off his supplies, and at the same time create a supply line of our own to the west.”

  Lee nodded. “This is all true. And if we had three times our numbers I wouldn’t think twice about going through with your plan.”

  “What about Helenia?” asked Gewey. “Perhaps we could convince them to fight with us.”

  “I doubt it,” said Lee. “The king fears Angrääl, and thinks that the only reason the city remains unconquered is due to his supposed neutrality.”

  “Then perhaps Darshan can help him understand that neutrality is no longer an option.” Gewey grinned wickedly while handing the flask back to Lee. “Surely the name is known there. What would he do if a column of flames erupted in the city square?”

  Lee laughed. “I don’t know. But I would like to find out.”

  “I think you should leave the people of Helenia out of the fray,” objected Kaylia. “They are your people, Gewey, and the Dark Knight has left them in peace for the time being. We should not tempt him to change his mind.”

  Gewey thought for a moment, then nodded. “I suppose you’re right. But so is Lee. Taking Baltria would be much easier with a larger army.”

  “There is another option,” Lee suggested. “I have friends and allies there. Perhaps we could even the odds from within.”

  “Barty and Randson may still be there as well,” added Gewey. “Is there a way we can get into the city unseen?”

  “We can’t,” Lee replied. “But I can.”

  Before Gewey could object, Lee held up his hand. “If Vrykol are anywhere in Baltria, they’ll sniff you out in a second. I should take Millet with me as well. The two of us know Baltria better than anyone, so it shouldn’t be a problem to move about unnoticed. Especially when they have an elf army led by the mighty Darshan bearing down on their city walls. They’ll be far too busy worrying about you to care about us.”

  “Once you’re inside, what will you do?” asked Kaylia.

  “I suppose I’ll have to improvise,” replied Lee, giving an elaborate wink.

  “Are you sure you should take Millet?” Gewey asked.

  Lee chuckled. “I know him well. He won’t allow me to go alone. And he is even more familiar with the back streets of Baltria than I.” His smile slowly vanished. “Besides, if Millet doesn’t go, Jacob will insist that he does, and I can’t have that. If either Millet or I are caught, we’ll likely be killed. Both of us have lived long enough to welcome our end, should it come to that. But Jacob has not. I know I can’t keep him out of danger all the time. After all, this is a war. But I’ll feel better if my son is under your protection while I’m gone. The thought of something happening to him…”

  “You are like a second father to me,” said Gewey. “Well…a third actually, now that I think about it.” Lee’s smile returned. “That makes Jacob my brother. So do what you need to do. I will watch over him.”

  “Thank you,” said Lee. With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet. “I should go speak with Millet. I think I saw him with a bottle in his hand earlier. Hopefully he’s only found one, otherwise he’ll be in a foul mood come morning.”

  “So you leave tomorrow?” asked Gewey.

  Lee nodded. “And I suggest you follow quickly. Speed is your best ally.”

  Gewey watched as Lee disappeared into the camp. The sounds of the celebration suddenly seemed dull and dreary as he thought of yet another battle to come.

  “So you intend to draw the Dark Knight out,” said Kaylia.

  “Yes,” Gewey replied. “Though that’s not the only reason I see for taking Baltria. I fear that we may not arrive in time to save King Lousis. But word of Baltria’s fall will travel far faster than an army can. And I don’t think the Dark Knight will ignore such a bad turn of events to go unchallenged. As we have already discussed, losing Baltria will disrupt his supply line and stop his advance cold.”

  “Of course, taking the city is one thing,” Kaylia pointed out. “But how do you intend to hold it?”

  Gewey shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if we hold it. The elves will continue west after the assault.”

  Kaylia cocked her head. “If you don’t intend to keep it, why risk the lives?”

  A faint smile formed on Gewey's face. “When I was a young boy, my father sent me to Miss Havershan’s house in town three days a week to study. She taught most of the children in Sharpstone – at least, those whose parents could spare the extra pair of hands. The first day I went, a boy named Walton Vessty decided he didn’t like me. I couldn’t tell you why, but he made it clear that he was not my friend, and made it his mission to make my life difficult. Each day after lessons he would round up his friends and follow me home, throwing rocks at me the whole way.”

  “What did you do?” asked Kaylia, clearly bothered by the idea of someone tormenting her unorem, even as a child.

  Gewey shrugged. “What could I do? I was outnumbered, and they were all bigger and older than me. So I ran.

  “Eventually, when my father found out what was happening, he went to talk to Mister Vessty. Well, I can tell you, Mister Vessty was a mean-natured son-of-a-pig farmer. He told my father that if I had a problem with his son, best that I solve it myself.”

  “And did you?” asked Kaylia.

  “In a way,” he replied with a smirk. “My father told me that the next time it happened I should walk right up to Walton and punch him on the nose. Well sure enough, the next day he and his friends were at it again. So I turned around ready to do what my father had told me. But for some reason – and I have no idea why – I picked up a rock instead and threw it as hard as I could. It hit Walton right between the eyes and knocked him out cold.”

  Kaylia gave a loud laugh. “Served him right.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Gewey. “I thought I might have killed him at the time, but luckily there was no serious harm done. And though we never became friends, he did not bother me again - ever.”

  “So is that what attacking Baltria is all about?” asked Kaylia.

  “In a way,” said Gewey. “So far, we’ve been running and running while our enemy continues to assault us on all sides. He thinks we can’t do a thing to stop him, and hopes to draw me to his lair where I am at a disadvantage. But if we are successful and deny him Baltria - even for a short time - that could turn the tide in our favor. We will be the aggressor. People need to be shown that the Reborn King is not all powerful. Then perhaps they will not be so afraid and begin to rise up against him.”

  “And those same people may be slaughtered in the process,” Kaylia told him. “The Dark Knight is not a boy, and he will not be so easily deterred.”

  Gewey sighed. He couldn’t deny that she was speaking the truth. Nonetheless, he also knew that it was the ri
ght thing to do. As long as the enemy was allowed to press forward, the Dark Knight would remain in his fortress, unassailable and secure. The only path to victory was to disrupt his plans and force him out.

  Baltria was going to burn – Gewey knew that - and he was going to be the one responsible, either in taking the city or defending it. But it was a sacrifice he would have to make. The western kingdoms would not be the only ones to feel the agony of war.

  Kaylia hopped up, pulling Gewey with her. “Come. Dance with me. There will be time for war tomorrow. Tonight is for celebrating the memory of Maybell.”

  Gewey pushed troublesome thoughts to the back of his mind. Soon he and Kaylia were spending the rest of the evening in high-spirited merriment. Luckily, Lee had reached Millet before he’d found a second bottle of wine and they had now retired to a bedroll at the edge of the camp. Gewey spotted them talking in hushed whispers with Lee drawing lines in the dirt, presumably mapping out their entry into the city.

  It was near dawn by the time the elves began to bed down. The music continued on, but in contrast to the up-tempo melodies of the early evening, the tunes were now soft and sweet.

  Gewey spoke to Lyrial about his intentions. She seemed unconcerned.

  “It matters not where we fight,” she said. “We will follow you into any fray – and we will be victorious.”

  Bevaris was less optimistic, though he voiced only a few half-hearted objections. Gewey could tell that the man was still unnerved by his miraculous resurrection. Tristan, on the other hand, was much more accepting of the matter and had no problem in telling Gewey the foolishness of his plan.

  “You’re completely mad,” the younger knight said, his mouth twisting in a disapproving scowl. “We’ll never take Baltria. I don’t care how many fireballs you throw at them. The walls of the city are fifteen feet thick and twice as high. They’ll rain down arrows so heavily that they’ll blot out the sun.”

  “You must trust me,” Gewey replied. “I promise I can take care of the walls and the arrows. The fight will truly begin once we’re inside. I can’t be in all places at once, and I doubt Angrääl is going to surrender the city easily.”