Wine God's Sorcery: The Horse Lords
Page 1
The Horse Lords
Book 3
Wine God’s Sorcery
Diana Drakulich
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2017 Diana Drakulich
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise – without express written permission of the author.
Cover Art – Vojislav Vasiljevic
setvasai@gmail.com
Graphic Design – NA Studio Design
abgwriter@gmail.com
O Children of the Future -
Read O You who will discover
This scroll in future ages –
If God has given you
The power to read.
Read the speech of the ages
O Children of the future
Learn the secrets which are
So distant, yet in reality
So near.
Men do not live once
Only to vanish forever.
They live many lives
In different places
But not always in this World.
And between each Life
There is a veil of Shadows –
Egyptian Book of the Dead 1550 BC
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 – Strigoitsa
Chapter 2 – Sorcery
Chapter 3 – The Other Woman
Chapter 4 – Sarpedon
Chapter 5 – The Wine God
Chapter 6 – The Golden Fleece
Chapter 7 – Forgive Your Humble Servant
Chapter 8 – How Easy to be Lured
Chapter 9 – Gods at War
Chapter 10 – Procession to the Dionysia
Chapter 11 – Lusty Men of the Forest
Chapter 12 – House of the Maenad
Chapter 13 – Drugs for the Dionysia
Chapter 14 – Serpents in Their Hair
Chapter 15 – The Roaring God of Joy
Chapter 16 – The God is Here Now
Chapter 17 – Spargamos
Chapter 18 – Revenge of the Massagetae
Chapter 19 – More Blood than You Can Drink
Chapter 20 – Battle Strategy
Chapter 21 – The White Mare
Chapter 22 – Royal Skythia
Chapter 23 – Sorsha
Chapter 24 – Love and Feasting
Chapter 25 – Back to Back
Chapter 26 – The Shakya
Chapter 27 – Desire Stirred
Chapter 28 – Unarmed Combat
Chapter 29 – Interlude with the Vukari Prince
Chapter 30 – This I Revere
Chapter 31 – Messages of the Spirit
Chapter 32 – Archery Contest
Chapter 33 – War Council
Chapter 34 – Brata Rises
Chapter 35 – The Sword in the Stone
Chapter 36 – Ye are as the Gods
Chapter 37 – Final Vote
Chapter 38 – War Drums
Chapter 39 – The Gods Move Slowly
Chapter 40 – I am Now a Slave
Chapter 41 – Cup of Brotherhood
Chapter 42 – Koldun
Chapter 43 – In the Dark House
Chapter 44 – Horse Sacrifice
EXERPT – The Horse Lords, Book 4
Glossary
Sources
Chapter 1 – Strigoitsa
`Lying Diviners’ the Skythians call them
Are burnt.
When the king puts one of them
To death
He takes care not to let any
Of the sons survive.
All the male offspring are slain
Along with the father.
Only the females are allowed to live –
Herodotus, The Histories c. 450 BC
Light sensual fingers streamed up Sava’s thighs, caressing his manhood, pulsating his genitals, rubbing, tugging, tickling…. Skilled, knowing fingers stimulating his phallus, making it thicken and throb.
He writhed, his body instinctively swelling, undulating, loving the pleasure. He sensed a presence, an entity hovering over him.
Sorsha?… He managed a hoarse whisper through his dream state.
No answer. He tried to open his eyes, to see who it was. But he could not. All was submerged in a dark red mist.
A body, heavy as a great stone fell on his breast. He struggled to breathe, to move, even a little. He could not lift a single finger. Every muscle frozen.
Extreme anxiety attacked. His heart stopped, then catapulted into a mad gallop. This frozen immobility was excruciating. I must move or die.
An unearthly voice whispered erotic obscenities in his ear. Sensual fingers grasped his manhood, rubbing, tugging.
His traitorous body responded to the intense stimulation with blind ecstatic spasms of shuddering lust. Sava gasped as hot semen spurted.
Suddenly a leering Medusa with sharp protruding canine teeth and hair of writhing snakes flew in his face. A long purplish-red tongue thrust out as if to spear his mouth. Then it was gone.
Sava woke that morning on the way to Agathyrsia feeling empty, tired and depressed. A hollow ringing filled his ears. He groaned and stretched. His mouth dry as dust.
He rose and walked away behind some bushes to relieve himself. The stream of urine was hot, darker than normal and lasted long.
The nomad walked to the stream bank and knelt to scoop up water and refresh himself. But when he rose, extreme dizziness struck. He staggered and nearly fell. His good friend Brata and his highly sensitive Vukari companions gathered round, aware he was under duress.
“Why do you look at me like that?” Embarrassed at showing such weakness Sava met their searching gazes. And told them nothing.
A feeling of peace and contentment wove itself around the campfire that night after the long day’s ride. Sava took out his duduk pipe and played an old Skythian song with such feeling that his friends began clapping and calling out - Ai da! Ai da!
Lean, supple black-haired giants, the Vukari rose to dance. After a long day in the saddle, to stretch and flex shoulders, hips and spine to music was divinely rejuvenating.
The waxing moon rose over the trees, shining down like a great cool, silver eye. Sava was reminded of stories about the Neuri, also known as Vukari, `Wolf People’. He put down the duduk and turned to Vuk.
“Is it true your people change into wolves at the autumn moon?”
As he spoke the words the clapping and dancing abruptly stopped. The atmosphere around the campfire changed. His understanding of reality seemed to hang by invisible threads in a precarious, suspended state.
The Vukari were mentally linked. Sava knew that when he spoke to one he spoke to them all. Now they stared at him, golden-green eyes glowing with that unique awareness of the apex predator. And no one said a word.
Vuk stared intently into the darkness. “If I tell you, You will not believe.”
“You would be surprised at what I might believe.”
And then an imperceptible change began. Staring at Vuk in the shadowy firelight, he could almost see the shaman’s features mutating. Strange golden-green wolf-like eyes gleaming with cold, alert predator focus.
How suggestible these Vukari are. Just the mention of the animal and Vuk saw himself as a wolf. The man’s wolf self-image was so vivid, so strong; it created the same perception in Sava’s own mind.
An eerie howl split the quiet night. Then another howl ululated across the dark sky. Th
e howls sounded eerily like a human imitating a wolf. Vuk rose and stretched his tall, lithe frame. And Sava saw the latent predator in the man.
Arching his back, Vuk lifted his face to the stars and released a long echoing howl. Toxaris and Borna spontaneously joined in the howl, followed by Marat and Spartak. All howling in chorus, wolf-colored eyes luminous in the firelight.
Suddenly Sava felt as if he had been dropped into a pack of strangers. He realized he was not fully cognizant of the Vukari character. Better not to press these Vukodlaki (Wolfskins
). He was not entirely sure what they were capable of, nor did he want to test them in this remote place.
He glanced over at Brata for reassurance. But his Black Cloak brother was also staring into the darkness, his body tense, as if a powerful presence lurked just outside the darklight. The firelight played along Brata’s high carved cheekbones and aquiline nose.
How at ease Brata is with these people. He has adjusted well to their wild awareness.
Sava caught Toxaris’ eye and she smiled. Somehow the message in her toothy white grin was less than reassuring. This is all in my mind. These people are my friends. Are they not?
The Vukari stopped howling and stared, all senses focused on a presence hovering just out of sight. And then Sava saw it - luminous eyes glowing in the darkness. Two wolves, one black, the other light grey, so tall and burly they could be mistaken for bears, slunk out of the shadows.
The wolves were edgy, leery of the fire, but some invisible force drew them - the Neuri howls and pack mind. The hair rose on Sava’s arms as the wolves prowled into the fire circle. Eyes slitted, lips curled above long sharp fangs bared in greeting or maybe in anger.
The wolves’ eyes first riveted on Vuk, then swept around to meet the gaze of the others. Luminous golden-green eyes connected. The wolves were communicating with the Vukari on some level.
Sava did not move a muscle. Sorcery. These Vukari walk a sword’s edge between the minds of men and wild animals.
Instinctively his hand crept to the akinake at his belt, even as he tried to shut down mentally. Don’t think too much. Not now when the Vukari pack mind is at its height.
Eyes focused on the wolves, Toxaris’ dog Silvan silently approached and lay with his head on her thigh. She laid her hand on the dog’s large head. Silvan never took his eyes off the wolves. Sava saw his puppy crouching just to his left, keeping a respectful distance from the wolves.
“Sinjin,” he whispered.
Hair on end, the puppy slunk over to him. The moment Sava put his hand on the puppy’s soft black coat, his tension lessened. Toxaris was right. These Drakon dogs are the guardians of sanity for the Vukari.
After a few endless moments the wolves dissolved into the night. The Neuri snapped back to humanity.
“What were those wolves doing here?” Sava asked Vuk.
“They are not wolves.”
“What are they?”
“Spirits of our ancestors. They warned that we are being tracked.”
“Tracked by what?”
“A dark force. Something or Someone is drawing it.” Vuk gazed at Sava with speculative eyes. “You look weak. Your vitality is down. Did something happen to you last night?”
“That’s the problem with you Neuri – I can’t keep any secrets.” Shaking his head, Sava flashed a wry smile.
The Vukari only stared at him, their luminous eyes compelling. Tell us.
Sava told them of his dream of the evil entity who sucked out his vital juices. He held nothing back.
“So it is as the wolf spirits warned - We are being tracked by a malevolent entity” Vuk said. “That was a strigoitsa, a female succubus who seduced you last night. It drained your vital essence. Something about you is drawing it.”
“Do you have powerful enemies Sava? A black mage who has the power to summon a strigoitsa to drain your essence? Does this have anything to do with your father?” Toxaris asked, reading Sava’s inner mind.
“There is some question about my true father.” Sava responded, uncomfortable with this line of questioning.
“Why is that?”
“People say I look like my mother’s first husband, Sarpedon. I have his eyes. But he died over a year before I was even born. If I had been born even nine months after he died, I would have been slain at birth.”
“Who was Sarpedon?” Vuk asked.
“Sarpedon was high soothsayer to Idanthrysus, King of Royal Skythia. He had many enemies among the ennerei priesthood.
“Why?”
Sava shrugged. “Jealousy. Fear. My mother will only reveal small hints here and there. I think she fears for me as Sarpedon’s enemies still live.”
“How did this Sarpedon die?” Toxaris asked.
Sava grimaced and dropped his eyes. “Cruelly. Sarpedon was burnt for the giving of false prophecies.”
And I still feel His pain. Some even whisper that I am Sarpedon REBORN.
Chapter 2 – Sorcery
I admit my terror of the
Mysterious arts of …Witches
Against which there seems no protection.
Not even the dead are respected by them –
They rifle graves and funeral pyres for bones.
They cut pieces of flesh from unburned corpses
To use for blasting their neighbors’ lives.
The moment they smell death anywhere
They mutilate the corpse
Before the mourners arrive.
Not long ago a man got badly bitten
About the face by that hell pack.
He was to guard the body
But they drugged him
And bit off his nose and ears –
Lucius Apuleius, The Golden Ass c. 150 AD
“Execution is one of the ways that the Undead are created. The soul suffers from injustice. It is unable to move on to the Other World.” Vuk nodded.
“So people think your mother’s dead husband – this - Sarpedon came to her as a strigoi and begot you?” Toxaris said.
“People say I remind them of Sarpedon. That I have his eyes, his ways. They don’t say it to my face, but I have heard their whispers since boyhood.“
“Why did King Idanthrysus turn against Sarpedon?” Vuk asked.
“A group of ennarei led by one Zoltan claimed that Sarpedon betrayed the king with false prophecies. By law, a soothsayer must be accused by at least six priests and their claim must be backed up by six others. But if the second six do not agree with the first six accusers, then the first six are burned.”
“So there is great risk in bringing such an accusation.” Vuk was listening intently.
“The 12 priests all agreed that Sarpedon was a false prophet. A Lying Diviner.” Sava said.
“How was Sarpedon executed?” Toxaris asked.
“He was stripped naked and bound to a wagon filled with straw. The wagon was hitched to oxen and set on fire. The oxen took off running in mad fear and dragged the wagon until it was consumed.” Sava’s eyes were hooded against Sarpedon’s last agonizing moments. “As he burned, Sarpedon cursed Zoltan and Royal Skythia. Some even say that this Persian invasion is Sarpedon’s curse.”
“It must have been terrible for your mother to witness such a thing.” Toxaris said.
“Aye. My mother said her heart nearly died that day. She thinks Zoltan and the other priests feared Sarpedon’s growing powers.”
“Was Sarpedon a lying diviner?” Vuk asked.
“According to Zoltan he was. One thing is sure, Zoltan took over Sarpedon’s post as high soothsayer to King Idanthrysus.”
“Sarpedon could have become a strigoi and sired you. But you were attacked by a strigoitsa, a female strigoi.” Toxaris mused.
“It could be this sorcerer, `Zoltan’ is sending a strigoitsa against you. If he fears you as Sarpedon’s son, then it is in Zoltan’s interest to prevent you from completing your mission. If you succeed, you will become stronger, more influential. Zoltan wants you weak. He may have
you marked for destruction Sava.” Vuk observed.
“I could not move a muscle against that strigoitsa last night. What will happen if I cannot resist her?”
“The strigoitsa will come back, night after night. It will suppress your breath and paralyze you. She will seduce your body and suck out your life force. Every morning you will wake feeling weaker. The strigoitsa will do this until you become a dry husk of a man, your vital energy sucked out. So weak that you become susceptible to disease and fall mortally ill.” Vuk replied.
“That’s what I like about you Vuk – so blunt, so honest.” Sava’s lips creased in a thin smile, his eyes downcast. “So the omens have foretold – that my life will be cut short. Like Sarpedon.”
“Tell me this - How can Zoltan send a strigoitsa after me?” Sava asked.
“With the aid of demonic powers.” Vuk said. “Never underestimate a black mage who has worked a lifetime to develop his mind as a conduit for evil.”
“You have no idea young Sava – the Power of the Mind. As we Neuri can hear the thoughts of others; so a powerful mage can visualize evil entities and channel them into your mind. Especially during sleep when the mind is most susceptible. But don’t forget, these are still Tricks of the Mind. Such tricks can be challenged. Countermanded.” Toxaris said.
“You mean it was Zoltan who was fondling me, having sex with me?” Pah. Sava spit in disgust.
“It is said one can conjure a strigoitsa by drinking a potion made from the heart of a woman who died in childbirth along with the heart of her unborn fetus – two spirits in one. Very potent. In this state of heightened awareness the mage calls upon an entity in the demon world to manifest in this world.”
A withering chill went through Sava’s body. His mind flashed on the hissing Voices in the Man Eaters’ cave of sacrifice - `They Who Have Always Been’.
Deep down he had always sensed their presence. Known of their vast deadly power. He had just pushed IT down, out of his mind so that he could function in this, the real world.
“How can I fight a strigoitsa? A spirit? A shadow? Something that is not there? Do I challenge it to a duel? Shoot it with an arrow? How do you battle an entity from the Other World which has no body?”