The Seven Altars of Dusarra tlod-2

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The Seven Altars of Dusarra tlod-2 Page 23

by Lawrence Watt-Evans


  "No!" cried the Aghadite. "The overman is a fraud and a thief! Slay him!" He drew a sword from beneath his robe and charged forward, a dozen others with him.

  A black blur filled Garth's vision for an instant, followed by a flash of bone-white claws and gleaming fangs, and a spurt of rich red; but as Garth had anticipated, there were too many attackers for Koros to handle; even as half a dozen died screaming, others surged around and past the warbeast. Garth met them with a long sweep of the sword of Bheleu, disemboweling one, hacking open the side of another; a third came within reach and sent his own sword at Garth's flank. The overman twisted, and the blade scraped across his breastplate, bruising his flesh beneath despite his padding.

  The sword of Bheleu came free. As Garth brought it around to run the point through the neck of his near-successful assailant, he saw that a new fire was kindling in the red gem. That threat disposed of, he turned to meet the next, and saw that the P'hulites were leaving, walking calmly away, without any opposition; he had hoped-that they would aid him. A dozen allies, no matter how ill, might have turned this battle in his favor. What had been the meaning of their speeches, then?

  His blade demolished a man's face. Blood now covered half its length, starting at the tip.

  Where, he asked himself, was this Bheleu when he was needed? Garth's arms ached as he heaved his unyielding weapon about.

  A face appeared before him, and he tried to bring his blade to meet it; before the blow fell, however, the face seemed to dissolve. The mouth fell open; skin cracked like dry mud, oozing pus; white gum filled the eyes, and the man fell mewling at Garth's feet.

  The sweep of the sword of Bheleu met no resistance, the man having fallen from its path; Garth struggled to regain control and defend himself even as the shock of what he had just seen filtered through him.

  New screams ripped through the square, added to those of the men Koros was slaughtering; a blade lightly grazed Garth's throat, the dying effort of a man whose skin was peeling in blistered strips from his flesh. Gazing around, looking for new attacks, Garth saw none; instead, men lay dying on the ground, their wounds seeping white ooze rather than the natural red of blood. Those still on their feet were fleeing in terror; as Garth watched, more fell as they ran, to lie whimpering in the streets for their last few seconds of life.

  The sword of Bheleu fell unheeded from his hands. He had brought chaos and catastrophe to Dыsarra, despite his protestations.

  A cry distracted him. "Lord Garth! Help!"

  Recovering himself somewhat, Garth picked up the sword again and turned in the direction of Frima's voice.

  She was at the gates, struggling to lift the heavy bar, a task obviously beyond her strength; the rope bindings were gone, leaving smouldering ash, and a torch lay on the ground near her feet. As he started toward her, he saw that the merchants' canopies on the eastern side of the square were ablaze; that had been the new light that had appeared behind him as he faced westward confronting the mob. He had no idea who had set them afire, or why; it was something he meant to ask Frima at the first opportunity.

  He had intended to add his own waning strength to her attempt to lift the bar from its brackets; but as he approached, the sword hilt in his hands seemed to move of its own volition, and he found himself hacking at the center of the bar as he would hack firewood with an axe.

  The sword, or whatever agency controlled it, seemed to know what it was doing; at the second blow the central span shattered, the wood reducing itself to splinters in a thoroughly unnatural way. The ends remained intact, but did not prevent the gates from being opened far enough to permit first Frima, then Garth, and finally Koros to slip through into the empty night beyond.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The air was dry and warm as the trio moved down the tone hillside in an automatic effort to put some distance between themselves and the chaos of the Dыsarran marketplace; the orange glow that leaked through the gates paled until it was lost in the cloud-filtered moonlight. Somewhere behind them a faint rumbling sounded.

  A few hundred yards from the city walls, Garth stopped and gathered Frima and Koros to him. He set about checking the straps and knots that had held his supplies and loot in place on the warbeast's back throughout the fighting as he asked, "How did the fires start?"

  "I did it. With a torch from one of the posts."

  "Why?"

  "As a distraction; there were men sneaking around behind you."

  "Oh." That was disconcerting; he had been totally unaware of any such maneuver. "Thank you. And the ropes on the gate?"

  "They were tarred, to keep them from stretching in the rain; the tar burns well. That's why I had the torch when I saw the men coming."

  "Thank you. You have been most helpful."

  There was silence for a moment as he pulled tight a loosened buckle. A faint crackling came from the city; the fire must be spreading. Garth glanced up, but saw no sign of pursuit.

  "I don't know why I helped you!" Frima burst out suddenly. "You're kidnapping me?"

  "That's true," Garth replied. "But would you want to stay in Dыsarra at present? With fire, panic, and disease loose in the streets?"

  "No." Her voice was fiat and definite, all defiance gone.

  "That disease-have you ever seen it before?"

  "No, but I have heard of it. It is the White Death, which P'hul uses to dispose of those who have displeased her. She must favor you, as her priest said."

  A few days earlier Garth would have dismissed that as more human superstition; now, he was less certain. The events of the last few days and nights definitely seemed to have involved powers beyond any he was familiar with. He slid the sword of Bheleu into the place in the harness it had occupied before, wishing he had some other more convenient and more trustworthy weapon.

  "It may be," he said, "that the Forgotten King will have no use for you. In that case, you shall be free to go as you please; you may return to Dыsarra and to your family if you choose. I make no promises, however."

  "I may just escape before that." Her tone had lightened.

  "I hope to prevent that. Recall that you are unarmed and half clad, and that the city is a most unhealthy place just now."

  "Oh, don't worry, silly." She petted Koros, who was licking blood from its claws.

  Garth smiled. No one had ever called him silly before. At least, not for a century or so.

  A blaze of red light lit the sky; Garth and Frima turned to see that one of the volcanic peaks was brightly aglow. A moment later the now-familiar rumbling shook the slope beneath their feet.

  "I think it would be wise to depart," Garth remarked. He lifted the girl onto the warbeast's back, then swung himself up in front of her. He was weary and would have preferred to sleep, but it seemed quite clear that he would not be safe anywhere near the city.

  When both were astride, Koros started forward in its customary swift glide…apparently unbothered by its recent exertions. As Dыsarra and the fiery volcano receded behind them, Garth contemplated recent events.

  His life-long atheism he now suspected to be incorrect; there was something that had directed his actions since his acquisition of the sword of Bheleu. No other explanation was adequate. Whether it was in fact the god of destruction he did not know, nor did he understand the relationship between this power, himself, and the sword. Whatever it was, it had gained him powerful allies in the cult of P'hul, and it might therefore have made him enemies as well-something he would have to be watchful for henceforth. The enmity of the cult of Aghad he had earned himself, and it was plain that the cult had power in lands besides its own; that, too, he must be watchful for.

  The sword itself he did not trust; were it not his only weapon, he would have sworn never to touch it again. As it was, he was eager to deliver it to the Forgotten King and be done with it.

  The Forgotten King-there was another matter for consideration. The old man was the high priest of death; it was not desirable, therefore, to serve him any further. Garth
would deliver the loot from the various altars to him and then go his own way.

  The vague promises of fame, of possible immortality, and of some great cosmic significance were, at present, of little interest; his recent dealings with cosmic powers had left him far less enthusiastic about such matters. There were mundane matters enough to occupy his time. There was the possibility of trade with the overmen of the Yprian Coast, should they actually exist; there might well be repercussions from the events just past to be dealt with; there was his vengeance to be taken upon the Baron of Skelleth. Trade or no, he was determined to have his revenge.

  He rode on through the night, Frima hanging on forlornly behind him as she left the only home she had ever known, Koros padding smoothly along. His mind seethed with schemes to humble the Baron, with schemes to seek out and destroy the cult of Aghad, with thoughts of great deeds to be done. None of the three noticed the great red gem set in the pommel of the sword oЂ Bheleu, protruding from the warbeast's harness alongside its furry chest, where it burned with a murky flame the color of blood.

  NOTES ON LANGUAGE AND PRONUNCIATION

  The reader should remember throughout that the characters do not speak English, but a language which, if pressed for a name, they would call "Eramman." All dialogue must be considered as translations from the Eramman, and all names as approximate transcriptions. An attempt has been made to keep all names as easily pronounceable for speakers of English as possible; since Eramman is an IndoEuropean tongue, reasonable accuracy is possible as well.

  However, a rough guide to pronunciation seems advisable.

  Accents: There are two different rules to be followed in regard to where stress falls; in Nekutta (including Dыsarra), Orgыl, Amag, Tadumuri, Mara, and almost all of Eramma, the accent always falls on the next-to-last syllable in any word, regardless of how many syllables there may be. In Orыn, the Northern Waste, the Yprian Coast, and in personal names but no other words in parts of northern Eramma (including Skelleth), the accent always falls on the first syllable, regardless of the length of the word. Thus Garth, being from the Northern Waste, pronounces the name of his home city OR-duh-nin, while the people of Skelleth or Dыsarra would pronounce it Or-DOO-nin.

  The Plain of Derbarok, lying as it does between Eramma and Orыn, has no set rule; its inhabitants vary their pronunciation at whim, and there is no consensus as to whether the correct pronunciation is DER-ba-rock or Der-BAR-ock.

  Phonetics: The Eramman language has seven basic vowels, which are represented in transcription by A, E, I, Y, O, U, and Ь; most have two pronunciations, depending on whether they occur in an accented syllable or an unaccented one.

  A is always pronounced like the a in era.

  E in an unaccented syllable is pronounced like the e in get.

  E in an accented syllable is pronounced like the й in passй.

  I in an unaccented syllable is pronounced like the i in bit.

  I in an accented syllable is pronounced like the ee in bee.

  Y is a sound which does not occur in English; regardless of accent it is pronounced like the Russian bI; best approximated as something between the accented and unaccented I.

  O is always pronounced like the o in got; there is no long O in Eramman.

  U in an unaccented syllable is pronounced like the oo in book.

  U in an accented syllable is pronounced like the oo in boot.

  Ь in an unaccented syllable is pronounced as in German; in an accented syllable it falls somewhere between the German ь and o.

  The use of a circumflex indicates that a vowel in an unaccented syllable is pronounced as if accented (e.g., Orыn and Dыsarra, pronounced OR-oon and Doo-SAR-ra). One-syllable words are always considered accented, but a circumflex may sometimes appear as a reminder.

  Diphthongs are common in Eramman, especially AI, pronounced like the English word "I," and EU, which does not occur in most forms of English, but closely resembles the Cockney pronunciation of the long O-sound.

  Consonants are pronounced much as in English, except R, which is trilled or "flipped" slightly (not rolled). The following combinations should be noted: TH is always as in thin, never as in there.

  DH represents the voiced th as in there.

  BH represents a sound somewhere between b and v, as in the Castilian Spanish pronunciation of either.

  PH represents a sound somewhere between p and f; in the combination P'H the apostrophe has no sound or value whatsoever except to indicate that the P and H are both pronounced individually and not as a single phoneme. P'hul is one syllable.

  CH is pronounced as in church.

  J is pronounced as in jar.

  G is always as in get, never as in gem.

  KH represents a voiceless gutteral, like the German ch in ach.

  GH represents a voiced gutteral; it sounds rather like gargling.

  SH is pronounced as in sheep.

  ZH is pronounced like z in azure.

  A final note on the names of the gods: Eramman is a declined language with seven cases; all nouns will ordinarily have an ending indicating their case and what part of a sentence they are. Names, however, do not have endings, ever. The names of the gods are, for the most part, simply words indicating their provenance with endings removed. Thus aghadye, the nominative form of the word for "loathing," becomes Aghad, and bheluye, meaning "destruction," becomes Bheleu (yes, it should be bheleuye or Bhelu; a few centuries earlier it was bheleuye, but pronunciations change).

  Native speakers would not find this confusing, nor tend to identify a god too strongly with the single trait his name represents, because they are accustomed to names with root meanings that may not have much to do with the things named. For examples of similar attitudes among speakers of English, consider the names Grace and Victor; no one assumes that every woman named Grace is in fact graceful, or that every man named Victor is a successful fighter. How many people, upon hearing the name New York, even remember that there is an old York?

  Furthermore, many of the root-words have changed meaning or dropped out of common usage; regvosye, meaning an unwillingness to understand, is extremely archaic, and no longer used as the ordinary word for blindness. That is just one example of many.

  NOTES ON ERAMMAN MYTH AND THEOLOGY

  In the beginning, according to the myths of Eramma and Nekutta, there was nothing at all except Dagha, and a nothingness far more complete than is ordinarily considered. There was no time, no space, no matter, no energy, no life, no death, nothing at all. Dagha, existing without these things, is therefore totally incomprehensible; it is customary to refer to Dagha as "he," but actually there is no way of saying whether he is male, female, neither, or both.

  In some way, this incomprehensible being created time and space; however, being outside time himself, he could not directly interfere or manipulate anything within the space he had created. For that reason, there is no cult of Dagha, no worship, and no prayer to him.

  Not satisfied with an empty cosmos, Dagha also created beings that could manipulate it, beings that were within time and limited by it, but were still immortal and unconfined by space. These beings were the gods.

  Since they were created from nothing, they were of necessity created in pairs, each the negation of its twin. In each pair there was a god dedicated to the elaboration and ornamentation of the cosmos, and another dedicated to returning to primordial nothingness. Dagha created seven pairs in all; the seven dedicated to creation are known as the Lords of Eir (from an archaic word meaning both "tree" and "vitality"), and their seven foes are known as the Lords of Dыs (from dusye, meaning "death" and also "darkness").

  The first pair created are usually referred to by their attributes rather than their names, Life and Death; they do have names, however. The role of Ayvi, the god of life, is frequently misunderstood; he is not in any way a preserver of life, but merely its bestower. He brings the first spark to each seed or embryo, but nothing more; and the Final God does nothing but remove that spark.
/>   The next creation was of four gods rather than two: Aal, god of growth and fertility, countered by P'hul, goddess of decay; and Bel Vala, god of strength and preservation, countered by Bheleu, god of destruction. Aal is generally given precedence over Bel Vala, but P'hul is considered inferior to Bheleu; the reasons for this apparent contradiction are unclear.

  The next creation was again of four gods, but this time there was no confusion in rank; Aghad, god of hatred, fear, and loathing, and his sister Pria, goddess of love, peace, and friendship, are universally acknowledged as mightier than Sai, goddess of sorrow and despair, and Gau, goddess of pleasure and delight.

  These ten are the High Gods; their four younger siblings are considered lesser, but therefore more accessible, deities. The sixth pair is Leuk, lord of light and bringer of inspiration, and Andhur Regvos, the god of darkness and blindness.

  The seventh and final pair of Eir and Dыs are Tema, goddess of night, and Amera, goddess of the day. With the creation of these two Dagha either exhausted his power or lost interest.

  These fourteen gods amongst them created the world, to provide themselves with an arena in which to manifest themselves; and in the early days of their creation, in emulation of their master, they created lesser gods.

  All the various cults of Nekutta and Eramma agree thus far, with the exception of a few outcast religions and followers of obscure deities; however, there is virtually no agreement as to the existence, number, and nature of these lesser gods, who are actually the objects of most worship, the Eir and Dыs being considered too powerful to waste time on mere mortals.

  Most of the lesser gods are collectively classed as Arkhein, a word of unknown origin, and there are dozens, perhaps hundreds, of them, including among the more prominent Savel Skai, the sun-god; Mel, goddess of the moon; Eramma the earth-mother; Koros, god of war; Melith, goddess of storms and lightning, and her brother, (or half-brother, or son, or cousin, depending on which cult one adheres to) Kewerro, the god of wind and air, particularly the north wind and storms at sea. Others range down through such minor powers as Eknissa, the firegoddess, to the obscure and pointless, such as Quon, god of dogs, and Bugo, god of masculinity and petty aggression.

 

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