Word of Truth

by Rhett C. Bruno

  Memories ran through her mind, of all the countless ceremonies held in this hallowed place by Caleefs of old. Tournaments, executions, funerals—none were so momentous as this. She wasn’t nervous, though it remained strange to hear her heartbeat so clearly, pounding along with the drums and no other sound.

  Pi watched her on approach, his chin lifted proudly. His lips were straight, and his expression stern, but Mahi had been around enough young men. Could he do what was required to consummate their marriage by Glassmen law after the sun fell? Could she?

  Bit’rudam wore a similar expression, likely concerned over the same thing, being brave, even though Mahi knew he had to be agonizing on the inside. She knew she’d made the right choice having him be her guard. If Pi grew large like his father and violent like his mother, Bit’rudam wouldn’t hesitate to stab him in the back.

  All those thoughts and more assailed her mind until she stopped directly across from King Pi. Dellbar the Holy put on a weak smile, the lines around his lips far more profound than his age would indicate.

  “You look stunning, my Lady,” Pi said. Again, his tone was confident, though difficult to read. Mahi knew how she looked in her outfit and makeup—like a goddess. Any other young man Pi’s age might have been drooling, but not him. It was all so business-like. She couldn’t even tell if he meant the compliment, only that he intended to flatter her.

  Mahi smiled and nodded.

  “Friends. Allies. Men and women of the Glass and Sands. What a fortuitous day, here, beneath the vigilant Eye of Iam,” Dellbar pronounced, loudly as he could.

  He seemed in better spirits than at the feast. The winds swirling within the arena should have muffled his voice, but instead, it projected far beyond Mahi expected it would. Judging by the vision of the man, she’d expected little more than a whisper.

  “And the Lord of the Sea, graciously inviting us to walk upon sands where, in his honor, so many have spilled their blood,” Dellbar added.

  Mahi couldn’t help but note the improper use for her god’s name.

  “The God of Sand and Sea,” Pi corrected, gently, so only they three could hear.

  Mahi’s breath caught. Dellbar cleared his throat.

  “Yes, of course, my King,” Dellbar muttered, then raised his voice. “A rift has existed between our lands for far too long. Yet all are here, in the name of love and unity. In the face of death and curses, these two young souls are intertwined by a history of miracles.”

  “Our Caleef is the only miracle!” barked a man from the crowd.

  All eyes snapped up to see an older Shesaitju man standing in the middle of the lower level. No sooner was he revealed than Serpent Guards were on him, dragging him away, squirming and shouting in Saitjuese.

  “Afhem Babrak is right about her!” yelled another, across the arena. A few others rose to join that man in protest, and they too were removed, though in a far more aggressive manner.

  Before any more dared speak, the Serpent Guards made a show of force. They emerged from all the arena entry tunnels along the concourse’s edge, slamming their weapons down in unison. A deafening clank echoed, followed by a growl of thunder from the nearing storm.

  Dellbar winced. Mahi peered down, expecting the same from Pi, but his attention had turned to the west archway into the arena undercroft. Concern rippled across his features, but when he turned back to Mahi, he was back to his young, intrepid self.

  “Yes, and so…” Dellbar cleared his throat again. He regarded the sun, blinded eyes unaffected, then circled them with his fingers. “It is with great pride and honor that I present beneath Iam’s vigilant gaze, these two brave leaders. Pi Nothhelm, the Miracle King, Lord of the Glass Kingdom and Herald of Iam’s Light; son of Liam Nothhelm the Conqueror. And Mahraveh of Saujibar, Caleef of the Black Sands, daughter of Muskigo “the Scythe” Ayerabi, and champion of the Tal’du Dromesh.”

  Dellbar reached into the folds of his robe and produced a small vial filled with Black Sand.

  “Your hand, Lady Mahraveh,” he instructed.

  She glanced over at Bit’rudam and Tingur. The latter nodded her along while the former watched without really watching. Mahi extended her hands, and Dellbar opened her fingers, so her palm faced upward.

  “In your hand, you hold your land,” he said as he uncorked the vial and poured the dark sand out over her palm. She welcomed the feel of the grains against her fingers and within the grooves of her hand. It felt like home.

  “My King, your hands,” Dellbar went on.

  Mahi noticed Pi peer again toward the west entry to the undercroft before he, too, followed the instructions.

  “In your hand, you hold your land,” Dellbar said, pouring a vial filled with tannish-red colored sand. Having only seen her own black sands, and the pure white sands of the M’ stafu Desert to the north, Mahi had never seen sand like it and imagined it had to be from the coast off Yarrington.

  “And so those lands, in your names, will be as one,” Dellbar said. He lightly positioned their hands, one atop the other, with Pi’s in the upper position. Mahi resisted a bit out of instinct.

  “It is said that Iam’s greatest gift to us is the light which guides our way from above,” Dellbar went on. “But I don’t believe so. That same light allows the wicked to prey, and the vengeful to find their quarry. It is why we of the priesthood do not see with our eyes, because in truth, Iam’s light comes from within. His greatest gift to Pantego… is love.”

  Dellbar produced a cloth that glowed like a nigh’jel, as if covered in luminescent paint. In its center, stitched in pure white, was the Eye of Iam. Dellbar raised it to the sky, the sunlight catching its folds and glinting.

  “And love will blossom here today,” Dellbar said. “Beneath Iam’s vigilant Eye, two souls have found their light. And now, in heart, mind, and land, they shall be as one.” He began to wrap the cloth around their sand-filled hands, then tucked the remaining fabric.

  The grains shifted and blended. She could feel the gazes of her people fixated on her, judging her every move.

  “Just as these sands could never be separated, so shall you two be.”

  Mahraveh stared down at their hands.

  “Do you, Pi Nothhelm, King of the Glass, take Caleef Mahraveh of Saujibar, as your Queen and wife? Will you swear, in Iam’s name, to be true to her, to foster her light, and to protect her with all that you are until the Gate of Light greets you?”

  Pi’s cobalt eyes stared straight into Mahi’s. A hint of fear now showed in them, but only for a second. He blinked, likely thinking she’d see it as a sign of weakness. Instead, Mahi welcomed it. It would be weakness to deny what he was feeling, and for a boy locked in a castle all his life, she was as foreign to him as he was to her.

  The sand continued trickling through his fingers as they remained merged with hers. Blending them thoroughly would take time. But they both were clearly willing to try.

  “I do,” he said, soft, but firm.

  Dellbar then turned to Mahi. “Do you, Mahraveh, Caleef of the Black Sands, take Pi Nothhelm as your King and husband? Will you swear, in Iam’s name and on the Eternal Current to be true to him, to foster his light and to protect him with all that you are until the Current takes you.”

  Murmuring began as he mentioned the Current. It surprised Mahi as well. She noticed the slight smirk tug at Pi’s lips as Dellbar spoke it, and realized that it had to be his doing. From what she knew, his father would have cut out his own tongue before uttering such a thing, ceremony or not.

  “I do,” Mahi stated proudly so all could hear.

  No sooner were the words through her lips than an incoherent shout echoed from the western entry of the undercroft. They all looked that way and spotted Torsten Unger standing in the opening. Blood covered his side as he leaned against a Glass soldier, hardly able to stand.

  His eyes went wide. An earsplitting crack rang out, and the ground shook, throwing Mahi and Pi. Pi fell off his pedestal, and hands bound together dragged h
er with him.

  The entire crowd screamed but were soon drowned out by a guttural bellow that was far from human. Shieldsmen and Serpent Guards ran to the King and Queen. Mahi scrambled to lift herself and Pi to their feet, tearing the cloth tied around their hands in her efforts, spilling the mixed sands.

  The ground quaked again as the dam made of immense boulders at the south end of the arena blew apart along with the warships moored just beyond. The rocks fell loose, some heaved up into the stands, crushing people there. Wood splintered and shot out like arrows, and through the many growing breaches in the rock extended what looked like massive tentacles.

  They thrashed and tore, breaking apart more rock. Seawater and debris gushed through, assisting them further. The storm offshore was now closer than what seemed possible in so short a time.

  Mahi saw the embodiment of evil rise over the breaking barrier; soulless black eyes and a maw filled with thousands of razor-sharp teeth. One massive wave sent it tumbling into the arena, limbs flailing.

  Guards were pulverized, crushed, their armor doing absolutely nothing to protect them. More thrashing tentacles sent others through the air. As water cascaded in, one of the warships snapped in half against the rock. It was impossible to tell if there was more than one of the beasts.

  “Run!” Mahi shouted.

  Pi froze, staring. That subtle show of fear turned to full-on terror. She grabbed him and ran for the arena walls.

  “What is that!” he screamed.

  She had no idea how to answer, even if there’d been time.

  In ancient times, sailors told stories of great sea beasts like giant octopuses called Current Eaters. Still, Mahi had always thought them things painted on maps to turn travelers away.

  She and Pi reached the wall, the sound of rushing water and terrifying roars at their backs. Lord Jolly was on one side, his sole arm around blind Dellbar the Holy, guiding him to safety, if there was such a thing. The stone wall surrounding the sands was tall, with the top half coated in spikes. Impossible to climb for a reason.

  “My Caleef, this way.” Bit’rudam waved them over.

  It was now clear there was more than one of the things, and Tingur stood facing the legendary beasts as if he could do anything to slow them.

  Bit’rudam barked orders and Serpent Guards formed at the base. Without hesitation, they launched one up. His chest plunged into the spikes and pinned him there in sacrifice. Then, they started lifting people over, using his body as a shield against the spikes. Thankfully, he had no tongue with which to scream.

  “Sir Unger!” Pi yelped. Mahi grasped the King’s hand as quickly as she could, stopping his attempt toward Torsten and yanking him back toward Bit’rudam instead. Torsten Unger laid on the sand nearby, both hands digging to drag himself toward them. Floodwater slowly filled in around his face.

  “My Caleef, you first!” Bit’rudam said.

  “No, take them,” she replied.

  Before he could respond, she sprinted for Torsten. Without him to lead the Glassmen, fighting Nesilia would prove even more challenging.

  The floodwater had neared her knees by the time she reached him. A Current Eater had caught onto the side of the arena and clambered up the stands, devouring and mashing everything in its path. Stone blocks, which had stood for thousands of years, were torn loose and flew every which way.

  “Sir Unger, get up!” Mahi yelled.

  She knelt and wedged her arm beneath him. Luckily, he was mostly out of his armor, or he would be sinking like a rock in the rising water.

  “She played us for fools,” he mumbled. “She wanted this.”

  “Nesilia did this?” Mahi asked, peering back at the dam. With every passing second, its integrity was further compromised. Waves and ship debris surged over and through it, filling the arena, sloshing onto the stands and causing the crowds to slip or fall in.

  “Who else,” Torsten said.

  Mahi continued digging her way beneath him and groaned. “Sir Unger, you have to get up!”

  “Can’t move… I…”

  A Current Eater roared so loudly, Mahi’s very bones chattered. A large wave carried another, and it smashed through what was left of one warship and into the dam, blowing it fully open.

  The coast of Latiapur was one of sharp bluffs with shallow beaches forming along it at low tide and very few treacherous paths up. Until now, the water rarely rose more than a few meters up the dam. The sea had been rough from the storm, but this was something else. She’d never witnessed the tide so high or winds so fiercely focused on a single spot—nor had the memories of all the Caleefs within her. Warship sails became thin shreds as if the very air was filled with knives.

  “Mahraveh!” Bit’rudam screamed.

  She glanced over and saw him waiting for help from the Serpent Guards. Pi and Lord Jolly were busy hefting Tingur’s heavy body over the guard who’d sacrificed himself upon the spikes. Dellbar the Holy sat behind them on the stands, catching his breath while the mostly Shesaitju crowd fled in a panic.

  “Go, now!” She grabbed his waist and hoisted him up.

  The rushing water gave him no choice but to go with it. The guards helped him the rest of the way, and soon after, they were pounded by the sea. Mahi took a lungful of air before she too was overtaken.

  She clutched Torsten’s hand and swam as water engulfed them. Her father had taught her never to tire herself fighting the current but to wait and ride it until it settled.

  The Current always wins, he’d said more times than she could remember.

  But her father had never been drowning in a place like this.

  Mahi flipped over and saw that they zoomed toward the spike wall. She released Torsten, using the momentum to shove down, then pressed her feet on the wall between dagger-sharp edges. She pushed off as hard as she could, tackling Torsten, so their backs struck the smooth, lower portion of the wall once the current overtook them.

  They were pulled back out in the undertow. Through the murky water, Mahi saw the dark mass of a Current Eater hurdling toward them. Submerged, it wasn’t so clumsy. All its tentacles were tucked behind its bulbous head as it dashed forward, toothy maw opened wide and aimed straight for them.

  A stout, gray-skinned figure plunged through the surface and banged into its side, knocking it off-angle. The beast’s head crashed just adjacent to her and Torsten, black blood swirling into the water as the spikes stabbed it.

  Mahi found herself lost in a flurry of tentacles, lucky none crushed her head, though many pounded her flesh. She clasped one of its suction cups, which really seemed to upset it. It whipped into the air, and once she emerged from the water, holding up Torsten’s body was no longer so easy. Her elbow stung as his weight bent it back. Air blew across her face and made it difficult to draw the breath she so desperately needed.

  “Let go!” someone yelled.

  She listened without thinking, getting a quick glimpse of Torsten falling onto the concourse below. The tentacle swung back up, and Mahi dared not let go. Instead, she flung herself around it, finding her footing on the lumpy meat of its top side.

  Another tentacle lashed at her, its tip as sharp as the Current Eaters’ teeth. She ducked under it, then sprang up, hopped over another, and leaped toward the stands.

  “Mahi!” Bit’rudam screamed as she soared above him. He stole a spear from a guard and hurled it. One of the beast’s tentacles was pierced just before stabbing Mahi, harmlessly slashing the base of her dress instead as it recoiled.

  She tucked into a roll upon landing and didn’t have long to react. If this Current Eater was a mindless servant to Nesilia, that certainly didn’t show. It perched over the side of the arena, the water now filled all the way to the lower stands. It unleashed an earsplitting roar.

  The Serpent Guards shoved by Mahi to attack it, slicing at tentacles that slapped down all around, impaling some, crushing others, and sweeping out legs. Dozens of frantic members of the crowd were caught in its wrath as well.

>   Mahi dropped to all fours as one wet limb whipped overhead, then scrambled low to Bit’rudam and the others. Her extravagant and constricting dress tore more and more with each vigorous motion, allowing her to move unencumbered.

  “My Caleef, we have to get you out of here!” Bit’rudam yelled.

  She quickly took stock of everyone. Torsten was on his hands and knees wheezing. Dellbar stood over him, glowing hands upon his back as he whispered a silent prayer. Lord Jolly had Pi backed into a nook between two rungs of stands, arm extended to guard him. Gone was any semblance of Pi’s bravery, and Mahi couldn’t blame him. Many veteran warriors who’d come to watch the marriage ceremony were equally panicked, and some had already escaped.

  “Where’s Tingur?” Mahi asked.

  “He jumped in to save you,” Bit’rudam replied.

  Mahi peered over the ledge at the raging beast. The guards kept it occupied as they were picked apart. Its many tentacles acted as much like a shield as they did daggers, and even if they could find an opening, it was too immense for them to deal any real damage. Above all, it was careful never to expose the back of its head where she imagined its brain would be. It was smart, as well as dangerous.

  She didn’t see Tingur anywhere.

  Behind it, across the arena, another Current Eater ascended the stands, slaughtering everything in its path. A third had its tentacles around the edge of the structure where it transitioned into the dam, ripping the walls apart and widening the breach to allow for even more water to pour in. The storm cast everything behind it in darkness, a wall of driving rain and whipping wind somehow planted right outside the arena.

  “We have to save him!” Mahi yelled.

  “We can’t,” Bit’rudam argued.

  “He—“

  “You can’t, my Caleef. You and the King must survive.”

  Mahi bit her lip, eyes darting back to the raging waters, then nodded. “All right. Get them, everyone. There’s an exit this way.”

  Bit’rudam jumped onto a lower bench and yelled, “Defend your Caleef!”