“What is it you do up there?” he asked as he had a hundred times before, running his hand over her ankle. He expected nothing more than the silent smile he always received. What a smile it was too, enough to light the area shaded under the trees.
She did smile, but she spoke instead of being quiet. “You've followed me for at least a couple months now, and you still don't realize what it is I do?” She pointed to the grove around her that had slowly spread life back into the fruit trees of Heart. She even pointed to Hakim himself. She knew Martell didn't understand the power he controlled with the Breath of the Titans. He didn't understand that it was the key to restoring full order to everything in the city. He only saw it as a hammer to smash others with. “Look at the trees! Look at yourself!” She said excitedly. “Jacob here has at least a hundred family members in the city, yet each of them and more are fed! I take all my essence, and put it to the trees, to feed them through the dark times. The Ogier can't resist the death call of plants very long, one of their most admirable traits. I help them in their struggle against this false Titanbringer. I do it not by destroying him, but by building those he throws away. This is how you ferment a revolution.”
“Must there be violence?!” Hakim protested, unable to see this woman harming anyone. “Why must there be revolution?”
“Who says revolution has to be violent?” She asked, adjusting her seat against the base of the tree. “Why must we fight?”
“So we don't die. Speaking of which, I think we need to get a move on. We've sat too long in one place.” Jacob interrupted, striding over, and picking Tyrosh from the ground. She jostled on his shoulder as he ran through the trees. She started to protest, then stopped remembering she had agreed to let him when they were in a hurry. They passed towards the outer edge of the city, stopping at a brothel. The building was a rounded dome, a balcony ran under the upper windows. Working girls walked the cat walks bending over to show their wares to the passersby, some calling out specialties.
Hakim hid his face in shame, knowing he had given into temptation more than once under this roof. A man was still a man. Jacob rushed the beautiful woman through the door, setting her at a booth in the back, away from the regular customers.
Madam Marie came to their table, bringing a bowl of fruit and some watered down fruit juice. The older woman was curvaceous but not fat. She carried herself well for one who had been in her profession so long. She was also known as a friend to orphans and widows, and had instantly latched onto Tyrosh, offering her shelter and food. “Here, ancient one.” She said as she set the bowl down.
“I'm not that much older than you, so quit with the nonsense.” Tyrosh said to the madam, though her dragonhunger glowed from the attention. “I already impose on your home, no need for you to be obeisant.”
“Sorry, Tyrosh, I was raised in a traditional Heart home, we worship dragons here.” She sat in a chair across from Tyrosh. “Old habits are hard to break. I did hear news, they're stepping up Titan patrols in the next few days, so we need to get you out of the city. I have a woman who's willing to try, if you are.”
“I don't know how far I'll be able to go on my own.” Tyrosh replied, pulling the hood covering her head down, freeing her ears for the first time in weeks. She had to be careful. She slowly pulled on them til they stood straight from their forced containment. Damn shawl was messing her perfect ears up. Her hair stood like a puff ball from her head, all coppery and wiry. She tried to tame it, but it refused, and burst forth whenever she let it free. She couldn't wait for it to be long enough to keep pulled back.
“You won't be on your own!” Hakim said, all but jumping from his seat. “I will be with you!”
“And my family and I.” Jacob spoke up. “You'll be gone, and I still don't believe the trees will thrive without you. You promised to keep us all fed, and I believe you, so we'll stick to you.”
Tears filled Tyrosh's eyes. She couldn't believe the luck of life, giving her such beautiful people to help her through her struggles. She needed to find her son, her dragonhunger cried inside for him every night. “Alright, let's do it. The sooner the better.” She pulled the shawl back over her head, covering her hair and ears, and headed upstairs to her room. “Hakim, come with me please.” She called over her shoulder. Her ears heard him stumbling around before he rushed up the stairs. “I'm going to teach you a lesson today, and we're going to see if we can make me not such a gimp.”
Hakim shook his head dumbly following her into the room. She sat cross legged on the bed, motioning for him to sit across from her. He did, and she took his hands in hers. She set them across his knees, palms up. “Close your eyes and relax.” She told him in a soothing voice. He did. He could never recall exactly what was said as she guided him into a deeper and deeper relaxed state. He hovered on the edge of sleep and consciousness, when she slapped him hard between the eyes. Knowledge flooded his head, sending him into spasms at the overload that hit him. Blackness settled over him.
He returned to consciousness a few moments later. Tyrosh was dabbing at his nose with a napkin. “Sorry about that.” She said as she pulled the napkin away, blood showed at a corner. “I thought you were more prepared for what was coming. I guess I have been kind of a silent teacher. Well, no more of that. Now we talk. Think about what I just fed you.”
Hakim thought about the information she had given him. He could see it in his minds eye, knew it was the words and hand movements to a spell involving intricate box runes and symbols of power. He looked at her with disbelief in his eyes.
“Yep, you're going to help me heal my heel. You seem strong enough to take the drain, and you're definitely a sensitive. So you have at least some aptitude.”
He watched as she pulled a belt knife out and began to carve the box from his mind into the floor. She filled it with runes he couldn't read, but he shuddered when he saw them flash with power. After filling the box, she built an intricate pattern of symbols around it. Last, she put a circle of runes, these he recognized as protection runes. He'd bought similar on pendants for his children.
Tyrosh lay, placing her heel into the runes in the floor. She peeled the binding cloth back, exposing the terrible wound. “Now is where you take over, Hakim. Trust in your instincts, and in what I gave you.”
He wiped at his nose with his sleeve. No blood came away, and he felt no ill effects from her feeding him knowledge. He realized he felt recharged instead of drained as one would expect. Hakim settled into a relaxed position, sitting on his knees. He reached his hands out and touched her heel. Slowly, he began to chant, “Inta kutik?l ku?ama?aiya.”
Hakim felt the heel beneath his fingers begin to stitch. The more it healed, the more he believed. The feelings fed his healing, as he chanted “Inta kutik?l ku?ama?aiya.” over and over until he felt the healing was done. Blackness settled over him again, and he collapsed onto his side.
Chapter Seventeen
Lov walked the city, climbing across buildings to avoid the crowds and get some separation from people. Nord had left the city, an armed guard taking the tall elf to the Anuunaki army. That left Lov alone with his thoughts, trying to figure out why Manatua would turn on him.
Paxtal had come up to Lov after the confrontation in the council chamber. He had explained how Manatua was ambitious beyond caution while picking at his newest scar, and expressed his hope that Lov would find a way to overcome without killing the small orc. The young half-elf had done it once already, against all four of the brothers. Now the brother begged for Manatua's life, hoping that Lov wouldn't give in to his darker side and kill the upstart orc.
Now Lov walked the streets and building tops, admiring the architecture and grace that comprised them. Most of the buildings were plain, just hewn from the rock as if imprecise tools were used. Others seemed carved by masters. Covered in runes and symbols, with statues carved and polished to perfection. There were pyramids and buildings that stood a hundred feet above the streets. As well as simple one story structures lin
ed up with the great ones. Large open squares dotted the city, where orc merchants had set up stalls to sell goods.
Lov climbed to the top of one of the pyramids, curious what they were for. As he reached the top, he saw the rocks that capped the building weren't smooth like those that built it up. On top the stone was rough and bumpy, as if it had been worked, but not finished. As he rubbed his hands over the rough stone, he heard a scuff from behind him. Lov turned, seeing an orc woman climbing on top of the stone. “What are you doing up here?” She demanded, striding towards Lov.
The young man stood his ground. “I'm scoping the city, getting a feel for how your society deals with each other.” He turned back to look down on the city. “After all, if I'm to rule you, I must know my people.”
The woman whipped the hood covering her head off. “Rule us!” She demanded, “What do you mean rule us? We are not made to be ruled!”
Lov shook his head as he drank in the sight of the woman. She was beautiful. A heart shaped face framed large green eyes, her pale blue skin as bare as Lov's own. A small, pert nose and large, pouty mouth were compressed in suppressed rage. Her hair was thick and silky, spilling down her back in a cascade of black and auburn softness.
Lov cleared his throat, pulling his eyes away from her. “Rule may be too strong a word. More of guide. I want the orc people to step up and take their place in society.” He gestured to the street below. “You all offer the same potential as any elf or human. It only needs to be cultivated. That's what I plan to do.” He turned back to the woman to show his passion for what he was speaking about. “I want people to hold orc engineers and builders in the same regard they hold Ogier stone masons.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but a ruckus started at the base of the pyramid. Lov watched as a large orc began to flog elven slaves, the elves trying to cover each other and limit the damage. It only appeared to anger the orc more, and Lov felt his dragonhunger stir and start to growl within. He took off down the side of the pyramid, ignoring the beautiful woman he had been talking to and shouting, “Hey! Knock that shit off!” He skipped entire sections as he sprinted down its side.
The orc looked up just as Lov crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. The orc turned and snarled at Lov. “These are my slaves! I'll treat them as I wish!”
Lov reached out, grabbing a thick handful of the orc's fur. “If you harm one more hair on their heads, I'll bash your skull in with a rock and feed you to your tribe.” Lov shoved the man, sending him sprawling backwards. He crashed, hard, into the side of a building, then fell to the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs.
Lov turned to the elves on the ground, checking themselves for injuries. He growled at himself, not sure what to do with these poor souls. The scars where their ears had been cut off were still raw and red from never having been treated properly. “Follow me.” Lov told them, heading to where his rooms were. They followed meekly and quietly.
The young chief's apartments were large, the elves found plenty of comfortable chairs in the main chamber. He offered them food and water before heading to his room. He closed the door for privacy, then climbed into the bed. Lov closed his eyes and fell into the deep sleep of exhaustion.
Lov felt a hand reach down from his ceiling and rip him from his bed. He looked behind him, expecting to see a hole in the top of the building, but was shocked to see nothing. An endless shifting pattern of colors filled his eyes. He lost sense of which way was up and which was down, and his stomach began to protest. Lov looked to what was holding him, seeing a gauntlet covered fist. It dragged him deeper into the swirling pattern of colors, slowing as Lov saw the body that controlled it.
An eye glared from where a head would usually be, and Lov felt the overpowering presence of Gruumnsh. Lov watched as an area was cleared out from the swirling mist, making solid ground for Lov to stand upon. The god shrank in size, coming to stand next to the young half-elf. “So, you're the one that gives my weapon up so freely.” The voice was powerful and deep. Lov shuddered, not knowing where it came from. An eyeball shouldn't be able to talk. “Why won't you take it back from Manatua?” Gruumnsh asked.
“Why do I need it? My power comes from within, not from your weapon. But if Manatua can use it as a focus, use it to further my purposes, then I will use him, the same as I would use it.” Lov strode over to stand before the eye, staring deep within the depths. He could see shadows of the future in the pupil that was as large as his face.
“Yes, I can see the future. You can too, if you work the ability.” The god changed shape, becoming a muscular, golden skinned man, standing and looking at himself in a mirror. “I didn't call you here to chastise you for giving up my weapon. I brought you here to teach you a lesson. You need to understand your place in the scheme of the universe.”
Gruumnsh reached out, taking Lov by the shoulder, and the young half-dragon felt his body growing. They towered over the small area the god had set up for them to converse. As they grew, Lov saw more definition in the world around them. They continued to grow, and a whole new world began to take shape around them. Lov watched as large mechanical pods zipped down a rock highway, heading towards bright points of light on the horizon. “This is your world.” Gruumnsh told Lov. “Not in a hundred years, or a thousand, but right now.” The god gestured around, pointing in all directions. “All that you see is connected to your world. Every person here, has a person in your world. Every animal here, has an animal in your world. It's all connected.
“Except for the dragons. They exist outside of this reality. All of these beings are just aspects of themselves on your world. But dragons have no equivalent in any world but yours. Their struggle is an ancient one.” The god shifted the plane they were on to a world of darkness, and Lov watched beautiful swirling patterns of blues and reds appear out of the black. As the universe continued to shrink, Lov saw it was mostly empty space, except for three dragons and a Wyrm. The Wyrm was eating its own tail, the dragons struggled and wrestled with it. The tails of the dragons wrapped themselves together making a peace sign. “Their struggle will continue long past when you and I are gone.
“You have a special place in all of this, Lovonian. You are both a part of, and not a part of this universe. You offer a way to change the status quo, and make it so the connection is felt across multiple planes. To usher in a new golden age. But you must choose the right path, and dance the correct steps. You told the orcs before that you don't worship me as a god. I think that's because you realize you hold the powers of gods within you. You just need to practice.”
Lov felt himself drop, as if the ground beneath his feet disappeared, and he fell. Wind rushed by his head, and he tried to flip around to see what was below him. Every time he did though, the sense of falling backwards kept with him. He could never get a look at where he was headed.
Lov felt himself crash into his body, and he sat up gasping. “What the hell was that?” He asked himself before going to the window to look out over the city. “No more late night walks, no more saving people. It gives me weird dreams.”
Lov crawled back into bed, falling asleep quickly, knowing he would need the energy for his fight tomorrow.
Lov yawned and stretched, grabbing his quiver and bow from his room before heading out to the main chamber. Elves sat around a table gorging themselves on fruits, nuts, and meats that had been brought in for the young chief's breakfast. Lov kept his meal light, sticking to fruit and a few almonds before heading out the door.
He crossed the city, listening to the gossip of the streets. All anyone was talking about was the fight today. Most were giving odds to Manatua since he had the weapon of Jarltal. Lov shook his head and walked towards the Greatmothers’ Council building. He found the chiefs and Greatmothers all relaxing in sedan chairs. The square before the council building was full of orcs of all sizes and shapes, and they all appeared to be waiting on him.
The sun shone brightly off of Lov's blue gray scales. Manatua stood next to Gr
eatmother Kahia, she talked intimately with him, gesturing to a pale blue orc in front of her. Lov was shocked to see the woman from the night before at Kahia's feet. “...will be a perfect wedding, and will join Ar Bola to the Eye of Gruumnsh.” She turned away from Manatua, glaring at Lov. “It appears the upstart has decided to show today. Let's get this over with then.”
She gestured, and slaves rushed forward to pick up the sedan chairs. The chiefs and Greatmothers were carried deeper into the city.
Lov jumped from his, choosing instead to walk with the slaves and talk to them. Most were elves, and all begged him to ignore them. If he died today, they didn't want to suffer the consequences from talking to him. Lov ended up marching in silence, the orcs joking and laughing, eating and drinking as they went. Even Kahia was crude and disgusting, tossing her bones out of the sedan to litter the streets. A couple spit disgusting loogies out as they smoked pipes. Lov was disappointed in the Greatmothers. He had expected more structure, more rules and manners. They were all but animals even in the city.
They approached a large stadium, cut into the very rock itself. It sank into the ground, seats slanting down to the edge of a fighting pit. The pit was immense, hundreds of feet by hundreds of feet. Manatua jumped down onto the soft earth. He landed with a grunt, and walked towards the center of the arena. He carried Lov's ax, hammer head front, with a comfortable grace, and stood in the center of the pit. The butt of the spear stuck into the thin layer of sand that covered the ground. The eye seemed to glare at Lov. “Hurry up, scrotum butter! I want to show you just what this thing can do!” Manatua grabbed his testicles through his loincloth, shaking them mockingly at Lov.
Breath of the Titans: The False Titanbringer: Complete Trilogy Page 24
