He liked what he heard, but there was something that bothered him about this messenger. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He just seemed odd.
As if reading his mind, G’nar said, “Brother, shouldn’t this man be afraid, considering his situation? Yet I smell no fear from him; quite strange seeing that he’ll be killed and eaten if we don’t like what he has to say.”
“I know, it is more than strange. But he presents us with an opportunity to learn more about our northern neighbours, as well as other nations . . . It would be a waste to kill him. No, I think he’ll be our guest for a while, but have him watched at all times. If he does anything suspicious . . .”
“Kar’ta,” replied his brother before hurrying off to make the arrangements.
Asteroth motioned for the guards to unbind the emissary. “You will stay as my guest. Now walk with me, and we’ll discuss the futures of our two people further.”
“You honour me, Your Grace,” he answered in a courtly bow.
“Asteroth is fine; what are you called?”
The little grey man smiled. “I am known as Joneras.”
ELIZABETH KNOCKED ON the door. She waited and then knocked again. Normally she would have entered a room by now, but yog’mur were quite strict when it came to how Asteroth should be approached, even though he didn’t seem to care about all the protocols.
Having waited longer than she cared to, she tried the door and found it unlocked. Theft among the yog’murgarr was incredibly rare; it was seen as cowardly and shameful to steal from the tribe when all you needed to do was ask for what you required.
She entered the large empty antechamber. The tribes had insisted that Asteroth take the previous chieftain’s house as it was the most lavish in the Black City. He had conceded to their wish but had almost all the furniture within it sent to the families who still lived outside the walls. “Asteroth? Are you here?”
There were no torches lit, which was not uncommon since Asteroth hated wasting resources and would often only have the ones in the room he was in lit. But unlike yog’murgarr, she was not night-eyed, and the black cre’per’um walls, floor, and roof made the house infuriatingly hard to navigate.
She began running her hand along the wall when she stumbled and almost fell for the third time. She had come to care about, even love these strange people, but there were times when she felt she wanted to throttle them.
Slowly, she climbed the stairs when it became clear no one was on the ground floor. The house was the size of a Zinoxian noble’s estate, and she wondered how long it would take Asteroth before he repurposed it. She made a note to mention that she could use more room to grow herbs and conduct experiments.
She had cleared the second floor and was about to ascend to the third, when something underneath her hand shifted and made a clicking sound. She stopped as she felt energies gather beneath her hand and applied their opposites. It was a simple spell among the yog’murgarr; used by the shang’gomagarr when something is forbidden to non-magic users or the Untouched as they are commonly called.
When activated, the spell continuously gathers energies in a fixed space, the size of which was at the shang’goma’s discretion, until they eventually explode. Even the most mediocre magic user would be able to feel the energies gather and cancel them out with their opposites. Though an Untouched would not realise what was happening and was likely to get injured or even killed by the explosion.
The wall vibrated as the spell was dispelled, and slowly, a section of it slid into the floor, revealing a tiny pocket in the wall, which held a lectern. A thick tome rested on it, and she quickly cast a seeker spell to detect any more magical traps.
When it appeared that there were no more surprises, she quickly picked up the book and jumped back. But it seemed that whoever had laid the magical trap had not seen the need to add a mechanical one as well. She hurried to a window and regarded it in the fading sunlight. The cover was made from some kind of scaled skin. She would have thought it wyvern scales as they were indigenous to the Viper Mountains. But to her knowledge, wyverns were all brown scaled and the scales covering the tome were jet black.
She opened it and flipped through its vellum pages. It was written in Yog’mur or something similar to it as she recognised most characters. But the grammar used was clearly different, as most of what she read made no sense. She held the book to her chest as she descended the stairs and left the house. Her heart pounded in excitement at the potential secrets held in her arms. Then she thought of what F’lar had said about her worship of Genoss. “That old hur’thlu might just be right.”
SEBASTIAN BURST INTO the great hall. The long dining table was stacked with all sorts of exotic and exquisite cuisines. King Lindred and the Queen were the only ones seated at the table, with more than ten servants attending to their every need.
“Why are you marshalling the nation to war?” Sebastian asked, annoyed.
Lindred continued eating. “Who do you think you are addressing?”
He struck the table, toppling some nearby piles of fresh fruit. “Damn it, Lindred! If it was ill advised to attack the beastmen before, it is idiotic now!”
“I will not be spoken to in such a manner! I am the eldest, Sebastian! I am the King! Who are you to question your King?!” screamed his brother, half chewed food flying across the table.
“You are stripping our kingdom of every able-bodied man and all its defences! What good will a king be if there is no kingdom left to rule?! The tribes of Viper Mountains have been united. Reports say Asteroth commands as many as fifty thousand beastmen, perhaps more. We can’t win this—”
Lindred heaved to his feet. “Asteroth is nothing but a myth! Fifty thousand beastmen, you say? Don’t be ridiculous! And even if there are that many of them, my advisors assure me I’ll have an army of a hundred thousand strong. I’ll wipe their filthy existence from this world!”
“Supai’s six thousand cocks! Has your hatred completely blinded you to reason? Even if this creature is not Asteroth, he is a gifted general. Look at what happened to the Black Griffins. Please, Lindred, do not do this. It is a war we cannot win, and even if we do by some miracle survive it, how many thousands of lives will be lost? Leave the beastmen be.”
“Soldiers are meant to serve their King,” said his brother as he sat and returned to his plate. “If you are so concerned about their well-being, then maybe you should stop being a coward and act your part as general of my army and lead them.”
“You damned bloated pig! I will not let you march our kingdom to ruin,” said Sebastian before rushing for the door.
The King jumped to his feet as if he had taken an arrow in the ass. “Guards, seize him! You go too far, Sebastian! I have always suffered your behaviour because you’re my brother, but no more!”
Sebastian punched the first guard in the face and kneed the second in the groin, but he had left his sword in his quarters. “You are a disgrace to the ri Nok name!”
The ten remaining guards drew their swords and surrounded him, keeping their distance as more of their comrades swarmed into the great hall. “My Prince, please surrender,” pleaded their captain, a man named Rodger who had become a father to a baby girl less than two days past.
He sighed and allowed them to seize him.
Lindred walked over as the guards held him down. “Let it be known that Sebastian ri Nok is hereby stripped of all lands, titles, and privileges. He and all who sympathise with him are to be imprisoned for treason, until such a date that I call for their heads. Now get him out of my sight!”
“You are mad. You will bring Zinox to ruin! May the gods curse you, Lindred! May they curse you!” screamed Sebastian as the guards dragged him away.
“CAN’T SLEEP, YOUR Highness?”
Asteroth turned to the doorway as the grey-skinned ambassador stepped onto the balcony. “Joneras, how many times have I told you to call me, Asteroth?”
The little man smiled, making his youthful face look childlike.
“Your Highness, you are a king and command one of the largest armies in the known world, an army of beastmen no less. Whose . . . ferociousness is widely feared by all. Any sane man would accord you the respect you deserve.”
“And yet you speak of an impending human invasion by these men of the Kingdom of Zinox?” retorted he, having learned humans also had their separate tribes.
“Unfortunately, King Lindred ri Nok’s sanity is somewhat questionable,” said Joneras as he moved to stand next to one of the few creatures whose power dwarfed his own.
Asteroth looked out over his city. It was close to midnight, and few torches burned in the streets, their red light gleaming off every curve of the black structures. Each was sturdy and massive and most were two stories. He had often wondered what had caused the U’norgarr to turn out so differently, and if they were even still yog’murgarr at all.
But as he stared at the hexagonal buildings that made up the Black City, he knew the answer. Why else would they build their homes in the same manner all yog’murgarr fashioned their tents? Their nature was still there, just suppressed.
The city’s design told an interesting tale, as every home was constructed closer together than those that came before. Was this why Tribe U’nor numbered a measly twelve thousand, out of the hundred and sixty thousand yog’murgarr alive at this very moment? Out of the sum of their race, Tribe U’nor did not even make up a tenth of it, despite being one of the ten tribes remaining.
However, the thousands of campfires beyond the wall reminded him of greater concerns. Those men, women, and children needed homes of their own, and he would see that they got them. But even that would have to wait, now that this King Lindred has decided to march on them for reasons known only to him and the Book Beast.
“Your Highness?”
Snapped out of his reverie, he turned to the tiny man. “You said it will take the Kingdom of Zinox two months to marshal all their forces, correct?”
“Yes, Your Highness. Give or take a few days, after which they’ll march on you. Depending on from where they march, it could take anywhere from a week to a month, if they march from Willow Way.”
“If this invasion truly occurs, you can tell your emperor that our nations are well on their way to becoming friends.”
Joneras bowed. “I am sure his Eminence will be most pleased to hear that, Your Highness. Now I must ask your leave to depart your fair city. As pleasant as my stay has been, I fear I have neglected my other duties.”
Asteroth told the yog’mur that had been detailed to watch the ambassador to escort him to their borders. “He will see you safely to the mouth of the Viper Valley. These past two weeks have been very informative. Thank you for sharing your knowledge with me and for warning us of the invasion.”
“I wish Your Highness an effortless victory over the Fat King and his rabble. May our nations grow only closer with the passing of time,” said the ewien with one last courtly bow before leaving.
He had barely left when F’lar and Elizabeth arrived. They were both so excited, they almost tripped over each other.
Asteroth let out an amused chuckle. “I take it you discovered something? You two have lately been like a bear with honey, never too far apart.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks turned slightly pink, but his father just dismissed the comment as he said, “Two weeks ago, E’lir discovered a hidden tome on the second level of this house. My son, I believe it may hold the history of our race.”
Asteroth recalled the indent that he had sworn was not there before, but had just assumed it was his mind playing tricks on him. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”
F’lar put his hand on the flustered woman’s shoulder. “It is written in Yog’mur, but a far more complex form. I decided it best that we try and decipher it before we bothered you with it. It could just as easily have been ancient cooking recipes.”
“And you’ve now deciphered it?” he asked dubious.
“Not all of it, but enough that F’lar thought we should tell you what we know,” said Elizabeth.
He leaned against the gold- and silver-trimmed railing. “Well then, what do we know?”
“We can’t seem to determine when the book was written, but we do know this was long before the Time of Proving. The tome never mentions the tribes, always referring to us as only yog’murgarr. It may even be that there was no segregation among the yog’murgarr back then,” said F’lar.
His father saw this caught his attention and continued, “The tome speaks of a time of prosperity where the yog’murgarr lived alongside the dor’gungarr in peace.”
“The dor’gungarr!” exclaimed Asteroth in almost childlike wonder. “Does it say what happened to them?”
F’lar held up his hand. “It does not, at least not in the section that we’ve deciphered. It does go on to say that this time of prosperity was ended by a creature referred to only as the Bearer of the Black Scale; a monster who could control the dead.”
His father smiled at his rapt attention and fondly recalled the times he and the other shang’gomagarr had told the children stories of the dor’gungarr. “It states that this creature attacked our ancestors without cause and that, although they fought valiantly alongside the dor’gungarr, they were eventually overwhelmed, as every warrior who fell made its army stronger. It gave our ancestors a choice: they could either serve or be killed down to the last woman and child. They chose to serve.”
Asteroth looked confused. “Serve? I don’t understand.”
F’lar motioned to Elizabeth since she had to explain the concept to him as well. “It is called slavery in the Kingdom. It is when a person is seen as property, an object that is owned by another. Slaves do whatever they are told or they are tortured, sometimes even killed. To kill a slave is seen the same as breaking a pot or plate.”
Asteroth’s eyes widened with rage. “What?! How can this be allowed?!”
She retreated at the outburst, and F’lar intercepted his son as he advanced. “It is an abnormal custom granted, but—”
“It is no custom! It is wrong, Father! And to think our ancestors were treated so . . . so . . . For the first time since hearing of the human invasion, I am glad that they are coming. I will butcher their army, and when I’m done, I’ll march on their cities. They are . . . Those people are evil, and I’ll exterminate them like the vermin they are,” he said, his black eyes mad with fury.
“Still your anger!” hissed his father as guards came rushing onto the balcony, axes drawn.
It was only when he tried that he realised he couldn’t calm down. Every muscle in his body craved the blood of his enemies as some twitched and others contracted. “Father, I can’t,” he said, his lips drawn back, exposing his wide array of fanglike teeth.
One of the guards, a man from Tribe Ur’ak, touched his shoulder out of concern when he lashed out. Asteroth barely managed to close his fist in time, letting his talons dig into his hand instead of the man’s chest. Bones cracked beneath his fist, and the guard crashed hard into the opposite wall, injured but alive.
Elizabeth finished casting her spell before anyone could really react to what was happening. There were no visible effects, but she knew it had worked as Asteroth slowly started to settle down.
He shook his head. “What just—”
She stepped out from behind F’lar. “It was one of the first spells I composed as a child. My father has always been quick to anger and would then often do things he later regretted. The spell clears the mind of emotion for a brief moment. Not powerful enough to change thought or intent, but quite useful to stop panic or . . . rage.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what happened. It was like I lost control of myself.” He knelt by the injured man. “I’m sorry. brother. E’lir I heard something crack when I struck him.”
She didn’t even need to check the man. She had seen enough wounds and learned more about yog’mur anatomy during the war than she had thought possible. “He’ll be fine. You cracked, perhaps b
roke a few ribs, most likely the former. Worst case, a bone pierced his secondary heart; his primary should be fine. Given he rests and doesn’t overexert himself, he’ll be fully healed in a month or so. But he should wait for me at my house just to be sure.”
Asteroth helped the man to his feet, and he left with the other guards after he had assured his Chieftain that he was all right. “I think it is time to finally have that assembly I’ve been threatening to have for weeks now. Tomorrow, we discuss the future of our race.”
THE ROOM WAS silent as their leader entered and took his place at the flat end of the enormous semicircular table in the otherwise empty room. Twelve others sat around the circumference of the table, each in the throne of their respective tribes, save for three of them. G’nar, F’lar, and Elizabeth sat in chairs crafted from cre’per’um.
“I have called this assembly to discuss various pressing matters. Now as you can see, I commanded each chieftain to attend. Tribe Mu’lor selected Ra’lak as their new chieftain as theirs was killed by Nor’wak To’nul during the war. And I have chosen U’nark to represent Tribe U’nor,” said Asteroth as he first motioned to a man sitting in a throne made from animal bones, then to U’nark in his throne of cre’per’um, trimmed and decorated with gold and silver. “I want to make something very clear, though. I have only allowed you to keep your positions as chieftains thus far to help your tribes adjust.”
If any of them objected, they kept it to themselves as he continued, “Despite this, you have let rivalries lead to disputes, some of which have even claimed lives. This is unacceptable, and henceforth, you will afford each other some respect. I now realise it was a mistake to let you keep your former positions, as this was the old way. We are no longer separate tribes, but one nation, and as such, we no longer need chieftains.”
This brought about an air of nervousness, but none made a sound as he added, “I do not mean that you are no longer important. We do, however, need to change the way our people think, and to do that, I need you. Most of you led your former tribes for decades, and they trust and respect you. I will lead and you will follow, and in turn so will they.
Birth of a Mortal God Page 14
