“Your King is dead!” roared the giant brandishing his axe threateningly.
“Save me, help me.” pleaded a fallen wounded soldier raising his arm weakly.
Dar Thadian snapped his head in the soldier’s direction and strode over to the man clambering over corpses as he made his way to him. Without pausing he swung his axe in a deadly arc and slashed across his back, cutting through his armour and across his spinal cord. The blackened blade buried itself deep within the body but he wrenched it clear effortlessly and looked for his next victim with a crazed look on his face.
A light, slow soaking drizzling rain began to fall washing the blood off his armour in crimson rivulets as he moved slowly amongst the men carpeting the battlefield. With his axe poised he lingered over the fallen looking for any signs of life or soldiers feigning death. He prodded a limp and lifeless body with the tip of his boot and grunted before moving onto the next. Suddenly the giant heard a quiet groan behind him and he spun around and located a young soldier lying face down in the churned muddy ground. A low growl erupted from his throat as the wounded man tried to crawl away but Dar Thadian stalked over to him and planted a foot onto his back.
“Please.” gasped the soldier weakly.
The axe rose and fell, cleaving deeply into the man’s neck sending a spray of blood into the air and the giant closed his eyes savouring the moment. Suddenly he heard the sound of someone approaching and he snapped open his eyes to see Magdalenian approaching him. He was garbed for war in full silver armour with his sword sheathed and his helmet held under the crook of his arm.
“It is over,” he said wearily. “Put up your weapon, Gilgamesh.”
“It is over when they are all dead.” growled Dar Thadian narrowing his eyes.
“Put up your axe, it is over.” he repeated with grief etched on his face.
“Let us rule the lands together, Magdalenian,” hissed the giant cradling the axe over his massive shoulder. “We will take dominion over them.”
Magdalenian gazed around him as his remaining army moved amongst the dead, pillaging the corpses and stripping them of their armour and shook his head sadly.
“No, this will be the last day that we walk amongst them.”
“I do not follow you. I am the Dar Thadian and I will be their God and they will be my people.” snapped the giant.
They stared at each other in stony silence for a few moments before he hawked and spat at the feet of Magdalenian then turned and walked away. Hephaestus moved to stand alongside him and followed his gaze and they both stared after the Axe-Hound until he was lost from view on the battlefield.
“He is consumed, there is the seed of madness within him.” said Hephaestus quietly.
“This I know.” replied Magdalenian.
“A seed can sprout into something far more powerful. In the forest if you allow a dominant tree to grow it will in time kill off all the weaker saplings around it.”
“He is one of us. I still believe that.”
“Do you?” asked Hephaestus grimly. “My advice is to cut the cursed tree down.”
“I have done enough killing to last me a thousand of their lifetimes. I am tired of the brutalities of war and have no stomach for slaughter. The war is over, this is the end and we will live amongst them in anonymity as we did before.”
“There is no end,” snapped Hephaestus rounding on him angrily. “It is never the end for them. No, they will select a new contender for the throne and a new threat will arise. It is how it has always been and how it will always be. People kill people, it’s what they do and the powerful attack the weak. We have changed much which is true, but it is ignorance to believe that the war is over. It is merely beginning to take root once again.”
Magdalenian sighed and scanned the battlefield once again and listened to the muffled moans of the injured and dying.
“This will be the last day we walk amongst them as Gods.” he said softly.
“As you wish.” replied Hephaestus spinning on his heels and walking away.
Memories of the dream faded and Magdalenian woke in the darkness under the stars lying stiffly in the same position on the ground and cold. He looked up and the dark silhouette of Hephaestus was sat staring back at him unblinking by the unlit fire.
“You let the fire die out.” said Magdalenian shivering as he pulled his cloak around him tightly.
“Yes, yes I think that I did,” answered Hephaestus. “You see I thought about collecting some wood, truly I did but then I thought about all the infections I could catch that are transmitted by animal urine and thought better of it. A little warmth is not as important as my health.”
Rubbing his gritty eyes Magdalenian sat up and yawned then stared at the extinguished fire with longing.
“You also snore in your sleep which is a valuable reminder why I enjoy my solitude so much.”
Magdalenian didn’t respond letting the cobwebs of his dream fall clear from his mind.
“I heard you talking in your sleep,” commented Hephaestus after a few long moments of silence. “It still haunts your dreams doesn’t it?”
“Memories live long,” whispered Magdalenian. “I should have stopped him then and saved so many innocent lives.”
“You have to admit that there’s a barbaric simplicity about the man. There are no shades of grey with Dar Thadian. It’s either black or white to him. Those who are the enemy need to be vanquished.”
“A killer is not simplistic.”
“You know now that you have released him he will seek his revenge against you.”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“Then you must also know that the threat of Old magic might be closer than you think.” said Hephaestus.
Magdalenian glanced to his side at the heavy wedge shaped object wrapped in oilcloth resting on the ground next to their saddle bags.
“A weapon of evil.” called out Hephaestus.
“The weapon itself is not evil. Evil is in the hands of the wielder.”
“He killed King Idra with that weapon and the King brought great evil to the land.”
Magdalenian nodded his head silently, staring off into the distance lost in thought.
“You admired the King?” asked Hephaestus.
“He had been a good King once, in his early years. He had done many good things during his reign and fought heroically till the last but the throne does strange things to a good man.”
“Have you ever asked yourself, why is it immoral for humans to kill other humans yet it is moral for us?”
“Why? Because we must fight for them if they are to live in this world. They fight to conquer whereas we fight for living.”
“We did what we had to do.” said Hephaestus.
“Yes,” whispered Magdalenian. “The death of one King saved the massacre of thousands yet the slain still weigh heavy on my shoulders.”
“That’s not what I was talking about. There was no other way, he had to be contained. The Axe-Hound should hang his head for a thousand years in shame for what he did.”
“Yet now I have freed him for my own selfish reasons because without him we cannot challenge the Meldlings.”
“You have already been inside his head?”
“I have. I have sent him to the aid of Akkadian. Their relationship stabilises him and calms the beast within.”
“Then it seems we have all been freed from our own obscurity in one form or another and yet you swore we would never reveal ourselves again.”
“Our intervention is needed otherwise the world we know will collapse into chaos.”
“And what of the next time or the time after that?” queried Hephaestus.
“This will be the last time.”
“You said that the last time,” he reminded him. “What now?”
“I am going to find myself an army.” answered Magdalenian simply.
“You will lead us into battle again?”
“Not this time.”
“The
n who?”
“I seek a faceless man. He will lead us against the might of King Gomorrah and his Meldlings.”
“And where will we find this man?”
“In the lair of the beast, the city of Tarlath.” whispered Magdalenian.
Chapter Sixteen
The capital city of Tarlath
Unfortunate’s alley
He traced the contours of his face with his finger tip marking the strange feel of his skin from his forehead to his lower jaw as he touched his ruined flesh in grim determination. With a shudder he pulled his hand away just as the door opened and Ingrith stepped quietly into the room. She was old and almost painfully thin with straight iron grey hair and a stern face with thin lips, sunken cheekbones and storm coloured eyes yet despite her apparent frailty she radiated an aura of roughness and carried a no-nonsense authoritarian approach. For a long few moments she just stared at him with her hands planted on her thin hips then looked across to the hand mirror she had left him still unmoved on the table.
“How long will you hide your face from yourself?” asked Ingrith critically.
“I would rather have died.” said Leonidis bitterly.
“But you didn’t die!” she snapped. “You have stood a very painful event from your past which would have finished most men but you are standing tall now.”
“I-I can’t…just not yet.”
“You told me you faced a Meldling and survived so you have already faced one beast. Now you have a very different beast to face and you should face it bravely.”
Ingrith approached the table and picked up the hand mirror and extended it towards him.
“See who you are now, right now, in this moment.” she said.
Leonidis shook his head slowly and swallowed hard with his fists clenched by his sides.
“Very well, but when you wish to finally see it may be too late.”
“I wanted to thank you for helping me.”
“An empty gesture,” uttered Ingrith in a sharp manner as she placed the mirror back onto the table. “You want to thank me, repay me with some coin. I have only to look into your face to know that you will succeed out there.”
He flicked a nervous glance over her shoulder towards the door and she glared at him coldly.
“Before you lapse into self-pity about re-entering into the world with your new appearance, think again. One of my workers is a poor orphan child who is seven years of age. He is disfigured because his legs had to be amputated because of Ergot poisoning. His time is spent on a low wheeled cart pulling his body along the streets by his bare sore hands as he begs for coin. My pity and respect is reserved for that boy because he hasn’t given up and still has a use to me.”
“You are a callous woman.” hissed Leonidis angrily.
“And you push my tolerance beyond all bearing so it’s time you learned some harsh truths otherwise working on Unfortunate’s alley is going to give you a short career. Understand this, I don’t care if it itches and burns or feels like fire dancing over your skin. While you are indebted to me you will remain here on my terms and these four walls don’t earn your keep. Out there people will take pity on your face and give you money and that is the only way you are going to earn me some coin so stop obsessing over what you can never have back and get out there and use your physical ailment to my advantage.”
He felt a knot of anger in his stomach but Ingrith noticed it and smiled.
“I see anger in your eyes. That is good. You’re hardly the first of my workers to feel it against me. Tell me Leonidis, what were you before?”
“A nobody.” he said bluntly.
“Even a nobody is a somebody. You said you were imprisoned. What was your crime?”
“I stole from a baker.”
“Was you good at stealing?”
“I still have both hands.” he answered.
“You are a survivor then and understand the streets but I fear your attitude won’t see you last long here. On a positive note, thieves target those who own more just like beggars. Both have tricks and methods to get what they want. How old are you?”
“I am in my twenty second year.”
“Do you have family?”
He shook his head slowly and she grunted out loud.
“We are your family now. Out there you are an outcast to them but here within the circle you are family.”
“What sort of a life awaits me out there?” whispered Leonidis.
“A dangerous life and one of low quality. At best society will view you with suspicion and scorn and at worst you will be invisible to them. I’ll give you until tomorrow and then I will place you with one of my best workers. Learn from him.”
“What if I say no?” he asked.
“Then we have a problem that needs rectifying.” she answered briskly.
Turning Ingrith made as if to leave the room but paused with her hand resting on the door handle and looked back at him.
“You have missed much whilst you have been healing. The King’s daughter has been taken and Gomorrah’s champion has been declared a traitor to the realm. News spreads fast on the streets.”
“I will see Gomorrah slain for what he has done to me!” hissed Leonidis angrily.
“Perhaps one day you may get your chance at revenge, but for now you work for me.”
They stared at each other in silence for a moment then Ingrith pointed over to the hand mirror.
“Follow my advice and face your fear sooner rather than later.”
Then she opened the door to the room and was gone. For a long while Leonidis just stood there and stared at the place where she had stood then his eyes flicked over to the table and the hand mirror resting on top of the surface. Licking his ruined lips he took a few hesitant steps towards the table but which each step he felt a growing sense of dread building within him. Reaching up with a trembling hand Leonidis gently touched his face once again and his heart began beating rhythmically in his chest. Closing his eyes he took a few more steps forward until he felt the edge of the table against his lower torso but he still couldn’t bring himself to reach out and pick up the hand mirror.
Taking a deep calming breath he picked up the mirror and slowly lifted it up to his face. As he did so his breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t take his eyes away from the ghastly reflection looking back at him. Then he was powerless to stop the tears from flowing.
Chapter Seventeen
Llewelyn
The hooded man and the giant weaved through the clutter and throng of carts and maze of stalls that were clustered around the marketplace. In Llewelyn the market was the centre of town life and a hive of activity selling and trading every conceivable object and service that could be bought, sold, haggled and bartered. Craftsman’s homes with their open workshops lined the narrow busy streets on each end and hanging signs displaying emblems of their trade hung proudly from the outside. Here were soap makers, jewellers, shoers, barrel-makers, potters, cloth makers and tanners selling their wares displayed on their open fronts and enticing passers-byes to stop and examine their goods. There were numerous stalls as far as the eyes could see selling foods of every description from live animals, fresh vegetables and fruit, bread and cakes, meats and poultry. It was noisy, segmented and crowded with sellers each trying to shout over the other broken by the occasional noise of the town crier making announcements and telling the time. As the two travellers made their way people stopped and gaped at the height and width of the giant walking towards them and Akkadian gave a wry smile.
“You attract attention like flies around dung, Axe-Hound,” he said chuckling. “I was hoping for a modicum of anonymity.”
With a scowl of irritation plastered over his face Dar Thadian nudged his way forcefully through a large crowd as barefoot children ran back and forth pointing fingers at him and calling out names.
“Commerce has grown in the last 500 years. It is even bigger than Pirash, so I’ve heard. Here you can get wealthy by reputation alone.” contin
ued Akkadian peering out from under his hood cheerfully.
The giant grunted and shouldered into a man in his path sending him sprawling to the ground awkwardly. Reacting angrily the man jumped to his feet with his fists clenched and rounded on Dar Thadian but when he saw his opponent he swallowed hard and backed quickly away.
“Stop growling at them like a feral dog!” chastised the swordsman shaking his head. “This is a place of trade not some animal pen fighting for kitchen scraps. Soak in the atmosphere, my ill-tempered friend.”
Suddenly a door to one of the shops opened and a woman threw a bucket of dirty foul-smelling water somewhere towards the open drain channels running alongside the sides of the street drenching the giant’s boots before he could move out of the way. She gave him quick a derisory look then turned her back and slammed the door shut.
“Not quite the soaking I had in mind,” commented Akkadian. “But never mind, the piss will mask your body odour which may I add is quite overpowering in its intensity. You smell like a rotting cadaver double-dipped in cow dung.”
Dar Thadian sniffed beneath his arms, smelling vigorously then growled angrily once again under a heavily furrowed brow.
“I’ll say it again; stop making a sound of hostility. Growling is not a socially acceptable way of communication. We’re here now so all I want you to do is stand behind me and look menacing. You’re good at that.”
They found themselves standing to the side of a stall covered by a cloth hanging as a roof cover which ran down the sides like a makeshift tent with a simple leather animal hide as the entrance and outside hung a wooden sign which read ‘No theft, nor trick nor falsification’.
Four Gods Page 12
