Nomads of the Gods

by Gary Mark Lee

  Chapter 14. A Hard Choice

  He who kills a soldier of the Talsonar shall have their body striped of all flesh and their bones ground to dust, their name shall be forbidden and their offspring shall be slaves for all time.

  The Laws of the Talsonar.

  The suns of Gorn had not yet risen, when the city's attack siren, began to blare.

  The Talsonar had found the dead Hal-Jafar soldier's body and the Nomad daggers. It was a simple conclusion, one of the Outlanders was responsible. The reserve guards were quickly called out and they began searching the trading stalls for a young woman, who they were sure, had committed the crime.

  There had also been a report of a Sandjar near the city, they were not permitted inside the city. The scavengers were nothing but trouble, they were responsible for taking several females, who were never seen again. So, any rumors about the green creatures in the vicinity, was viewed with hatred.

  In the King's meeting tent, they had been eating and drinking, most of the night. Now, they laid back on soft cushions, playing a game of Chance-cards. Arn was a good player but the Lion-man proved to be better. The King had to hand over, a goodly amount of Sagar teeth in lost wagers. Tamar-Ran knew he had been lucky and did not press the matter, all in all, it had been a most pleasant night, for both of them. When they heard the sound of the alarm, the merriment came to an abrupt halt.

  Tamar-Ran lowered his goblet and turned towards his guards, “Gather the men, we are under attack!” He turned back to Arn, who had already put down his winning hand, to take up his war-ax, “If this is a trick of the Madrigal, I will have your head!”

  The King held up his weapon and faced the Lion-man, “If any of my tribe are harmed, I will have yours too!”

  The Hal-Jafar Captain growled and signaled to his men and he quickly left the tent.

  Agart across to his brother, he spoke in a low voice, so no one could not hear, “I will give the order to ready the Disruptors.” Arn nodded his head in approval, then watched as his brother left. He turned to the warriors, who were waiting his orders, “Gather your weapons, make ready for battle!” The warriors let out a cheer, they did not know what lay ahead but they were ready to fight and die if need be.

  Andra had managed to get away from the traders. She heard the warning signals and hid inside a darkened doorway as several Hal-Jafar soldiers, marched quickly by. When she thought the alleyway was clear, she left quickly and returned to camp.

  She was almost caught several times but her training in the Selcarie army, had taught her how to evade capture and how to conceal herself. After some close encounters, she sighted the Almadra fires ahead. As Andra moved towards them, she saw, the camp was a mass of activity.

  The battle cry had gone out and the Nomads prepared for war, the warriors saddled their Whiptails and gripped their war-axes in readiness. The Spike-backs with the Long-Range weapons on their backs, were quickly maneuvered into position, to give a clear shot at the pyramid city. The Long-Range cannons, would do little real damaged to the giant structure but with the city unprepared, there would be many Talsonar casualties.

  Kuno shouted orders to his men, making sure, every man was at his post, “Wait for the order to fire! Make sure you hit what you aim for, I do not want to see any ammunition wasted.” Then he held up his weapon, he smiled to himself, “Live or die, we meet our fate.”

  The Elders had seen this many times, war was a familiar sight to them and they knew what to do. They put the children into pits, hastily dug into the ground, then covered them with the thick armored plates of dead Rimar. It would give them some protection if the enemy began a bombardment. Then they took up weapons and went to their stations, they knew that the old could die, just as well as the young and Nomads did not meet death on their knees. So as the Almadra war horns sounded in the night, all the tribe members, made ready for war.

  The Thungodra circled the High Priestess' tent, they would kill anyone who came near, even a member of their own tribe. They were trained to consider anyone outside of the High Priestess' circle, an enemy. To the last man, they would defend to the death.

  Inside the Holy Tent, Obec prayed, in her long life, she had seen many wars and many deaths. She also believed, Isarie watched over them and only the unbelievers would die and The Chosen would live. Nearby, her Handmaidens chanted devotions to the war Gods and lifted silver incense burners to the heavens.

  “Itor promastas Isarie, protect us from harm!” they chanted, “We are your children and we serve your will.”

  In another section of the tent, Anais hid under his covers, he did not think about the Gods or the fate of the Almadra. He just held tightly onto Soffca and shook like a Rock-runner on a cold night.

  Arn had put on his battle armor and was standing on a wagon, trying to get a clear view of the trader’s stalls. He stood like a bronze War-God, showing no sign of fear. All who looked at him, felt strength, all fear was driven from their hearts.

  I will protect my people, I will be a strong King and my father will look down on me and be satisfied; Arn thought.

  The twin suns were about to break over the horizon and they would give enough light, to attack if need be. He still had no idea, what the threat was but he would defend his tribe with his last breath.

  After hearing the trade for the Grana was successful, Darken had fallen asleep. The city's warning signals suddenly woke him. He summoned his guards and shouting at his bedroom slaves, to summon his Generals.

  “Where are they!” he screamed, as he cleared his head. He drank from a cup of wine sitting near his bed, “I want Yung and Leeander, here, now!” He threw the empty cup at a cowering slave, who wasn't moving fast enough, for his liking.

  Oseena did not dare to speak or move, she lay shaking and naked, on the bed, hoping her master, would not vent his anger on her. She watched as he roared and bellowed, until he finally left the room, still screaming for his frightened Commanders.

  Seeda and Almec, did not hear the sound of the signal horns, they were sleeping, like weary children, in their mother’s arms. The fire from their lovemaking, was now quenched and they dreamed the dreams of the stars.

  Andra had managed to get back to camp, she made her way through the mass of excited warriors, to find Arn, who was about to mount his Whiptail. She knew, she was the cause of all this chaos, she killed the Talsonar soldiers, so she would take responsibility for her actions.

  She put her hand on the King’s shoulder and he turned with a look of surprise on his face. She gazed at him with frightened eyes, then shook her head, “You must stop this now!”

  Arn did not understand why she would say such a thing, “What are you talking about?”

  “It was me, I did it, you have to stop this now.”

  He still did not understand her but the look in her eyes, told him, she was serious. “The signal horns have sounded, we are under attack.” I will defend my tribe, I will be a strong leader!

  “No you’re not, it’s not an attack, it’s was me, I killed the Talsonar soldiers,” she said, “You've got to call off your warriors, don’t start a war, over something that was my fault.”

  At that moment Agart came up to his brother, he was a little out of breath, “All the weapons are ready and the warriors await for your word.” If war comes, I will stand with my brother, I will help him.

  The King looked at his brother, then at Andra, he did not understand, why she was saying what she did. Looking into her face, he knew, she was telling the truth. Although all his instincts were saying, he should fight, Andra's eyes told him to wait.

  “Tell the warriors, to lay their axes on the ground, we will not fight,” the King said quietly; is Andra lying, am I a strong King?

  Agart looked like he had been struck by lightning, he knew his brother, he would not, turn down a fight, “We are under attack, the Gods will smile on us.” The Half-Soul, she is taking my place!

  Arn gazed steadily into Andra eyes. “Obey your King, we will not fight.” Am I
a strong King?

  For a moment, Agart did comprehend his brother's words, then he bowed his head, “I will tell the warriors, to lay down their weapons.” The Half-Soul is taking my place at his side, I will not let that happen! He left.

  Andra waited until he was gone, then turned to the King, “I will explain what happened to the Talsonar and take what comes.”

  Arn put his hand on her shoulder, “You are a warrior of the Almadra, we stand together.” A King stands with his people.

  They both walked towards the city of stone, Arn holding his head high, like any true leader of the Nomads. As the sun rose higher into the sky, the Governor of the Talsonar emerged from the Pyramid City, to meet the Almadra leader.

  The people of the city, did not often see their Governor, he spent most of his time, high above them, to most he seemed like a God. They might catch a brief glimpse of him at the arena, watching the gladiators fight and sometimes cheering, as games of life or death, played out before him. Sometimes, he would appear at senate meetings to announce a new law, or to order a new tax. To see him this close, was an event few remembered.

  This was no ordinary event, there was a war to prevent and wagon loads of Grana to secure. Darken knew, he could not leave it in the hands of some official or diplomat, he must do this personally.

  There was much quarreling but after a time, his Generals agreed to a meeting of the two sides, they would talk, halfway between the Nomad's camp and the stone city.

  There they would meet, under a sun covering and begin the negotiations. Each side would bring twenty of their best soldiers and leave the rest behind. The Nomads were not permitted to ride their Whiptails and the Talsonar were not to bring any of their Runners. The city's Long-Range weapons, would still be trained on the Outlanders camp. At the first sign of trouble, they would blast it out of existence but if they did, the precious salt would be gone forever. The Nomads knew this also, if there was any betrayal, they would destroy the Grana wagons themselves, then die, taking with them, as many Talsonar as they could.

  So at a prearranged time, the two sides marched towards each other, both hoping for the best but prepared for the worse.

  Arn led his strongest warriors, the Almadra wore their best armor and carried their heavy shields, used to enhance their appearance, not for use in battle. They carried war-axes and maces, to defend their King and die at his side if necessary. Beside him was Agart and next to him walked Andra. To many of the warriors it was an insult, that an Off-Worlder, should be given such an honor. If there was any trouble, she would only get in the way of the fighting. However, the King had spoken and Andra would march with them.

  Two warriors were nowhere to be seen, Seeda and Almec, had not returned to camp. It was suspected, they had been killed by the Talsonar. If that was the case, any peace treaty it would be impossible. Arn would never rest, until those responsible for his sister’s death were punished. He would order his warriors to fight to the death and the Almadra would be no more.

  Osh had not returned either, although it was not an issue to the Madrigal, it was a concern to Andra. She did not mind the Sandjar being missing but she wanted to see her friend again.

  Governor Darken was also very concerned, not over the death of a Hal-Jafar, they like all good soldiers, were destined to die anyway. If a full-scale war broke out now, it would spoil his future plans. The Almadra would perish soon enough, as would all the Outlanders but this was not the time or place for their ending. He was anxious to see the tribe's new King, he was said, to be too young and to hot tempered, to be a good leader. He would see for himself and like all good games of Mind War, first he would probe for weakness and then attack.

  The Governor’s two most powerful Generals were with him. Leeander and Yung had been instructed, not to order their men into battle, unless Darken gave the command. As Yung marched beside his commander, he could not help but think, how wonderful it would be, if Darken was suddenly killed. He could seize power and take the city for himself. He glanced over at his rival Leeander, he could be a threat but if he would not bow to him, he would be eliminated too.

  Leeander's thoughts, were only about defending the city and making sure the Grana was theirs, he was sure, Yung would never be so foolish, as to start a war now. They both knew, attacking one tribe, meant war with all, of the others. If that came to pass, the Nomads need only stop the shipments of the precious salt and soon all would be destroyed.

  As the twin suns reached their zenith, the two sides met under the sun canopy, they sat down to try to avoid a battle.

  Darken looked at the young King; This young pup, thinks he can make demands of a God? I will let him strut a bit, I can wait. The Governor was the first to speak, “You are very young to be a King.”

  He could see the Almadra leader's thick arm muscles tighten, Arn looked at the metal plate in the Governor’s head, “And do all Governors of the Talsonar, only possess half a head?” he said loudly.

  There was a tense moment, the warriors and the Hal-Jafar, reached for their weapons. The Governor saw, what he was looking for, this man will fight if necessary but he held his anger. He could reason with him; Ran was right, this young King has courage. He managed a little smile, “Only the good ones! We are not here, to talk about our adventures though, we are here, because one of your warriors, killed one of my men.”

  Before Arn could answer, Andra came forward, holding her head high, she spoke in a loud clear voice, “I killed the soldier, I’m the one responsible.”

  The Governor looked stunned; a female, took down one of the mighty Hal-Jafar and such a small one at that, “Am I to believe that this... this female, could kill one of the Hal-Jafar?” He looked around at his men, who started to chuckle at such an outlandish story.

  “Why not? He deserved it,” Andra continued, “he was nothing but a fat, foul smelling…”

  Before Andra could get herself into further trouble, the King broke in, “This woman is a warrior of the Almadra and being so, is under my command. If she is guilty of killing a Talsonar, then she will pay the price. Do you have any proof of her crime?”

  Darken signaled to one of his aids. The man came forward and put a bundle on the floor, then he unwrapped it, everyone could see, two blood stained daggers. From the markings on the hilts and the thickness of the blades, they were the Dragons-teeth of the Almadra.

  Arn knew, it would only take three shell necklaces and a small Rimar horn, for anyone to trade for a set of daggers. As for the blood, it could be from anyone but it would be useless to argue. Looking into Andra's eyes, he knew she had killed the soldier and she would have to be punished.

  He looked at Andra, then at the Governor, “What do you want?” he asked coldly.

  Leeander came forward, he was in no mood for negotiations. One of his men had been killed and the law was clear, “Whoever kills a Hal-Jafar, shall have their flesh torn from their bones!” he said, with an air of authority.

  Andra did not relish the idea, of her body being torn limb from limb but she was a soldier. Like all soldiers, she had taken an oath to die if necessary. She stood proudly to attention, showing none of the fear inside her, “I killed the man and will suffer the consequences.” My comrades are dead and it was my fault, I should be punished.

  Arn took her arm and pulled her back, “I am King of the Madrigal and I will decide what the punishment will be.”

  “That is not the law,” the General screamed out, “Nomads do not tell the Talsonar, what will be done with a murderer. We have the right to take her life and if any Outlander stands in our way we will…”

  Darken suddenly raised his hand, “Enough!”

  The General suddenly stopped talking and moved back, Darken waited for a moment, to let things cool down. He spoke in a soft voice, as he looked at Arn, “The death of one soldier, is not much, when you compare it, to the deaths of those in a war but our laws are clear. Your warrior has killed and there must be a price to pay.”

  The Governor close
d his eyes to think things over; this pup is brave yes but he has feelings for the woman, he is another toy, I will move him. He opened his eyes again and looked straight at the King, “I say a wagon of Grana and there will be no war.”

  A loud gasp arose from everyone in the room, one full wagon of the green salt, was worth far more, than a thousand Hal-Jafar. It was clearly a test, to see how far he could push the new King. Harsh as the punishment would be for the woman, it was better that one warrior should die, than give up the wagon of Grana.

  Arn looked over at his brother, Agart knew, his King was asking his advice on the offer. The Half-Soul is not The Chosen of Isarie, she must pay; he shook his head.

  Arn understood what his brother was saying, as a King, he had to make sacrifices, the ways of his tribe were also clear. A warrior took his punishment and asked for nothing more. A wagon of Grana, was worth the lives of many warriors and the woman was after all, just a Half-Soul. The Gods would forgive him, for making the choice to send her to her doom.

  As he looked at Andra, it was clear, that even if the Gods forgave him, he would never forgive himself. He was a King but he was also a man and although his head told him to forfeit Andra, his heart told him to save her.

  He held his hand out to the Governor, “I will trade,” he said softly.

  There was grumbling from the Almadra warriors, they knew, a wagon of Grana was not worth one warrior's life, let alone a Half-Souls. They knew their King was fond of the Off-World female but to trade their life giving salt for her, was an offense, not only against them but against the Gods, they would remember this day for a very long time.

  Agart could not believe, that his brother would sacrifice so much, for his love of a woman; my brother has gone against the laws of our tribe. The Gods watch us and know our hearts. He looked at his brother and bowed his head, “I will order the wagons to deliver the salt.” Then he left the room.

  Darken did not expect the King to agree to his demands so quickly; this King has a weakness, he cares for this woman, a leader who puts love above power, is a fool and fools can be defeated!

  He smiled and took Arn’s hand, “Done,” he said, with a slight smile on his scaly face.

  “There is still the matter of two missing warriors,” Arn said withdrawing his hand.

  The Governor shook his head, “I have no reports of any warriors, if you have lost some, it is your concern not mine.” He signaled to Tamar-Ran, who had been standing at the back of his entourage, “I think I may have something that might interest you.”

  The Lion-man came forward, along with two of his most trusted men, they were carrying dirty sacks, that were full, they placed them on the ground and stood back.

  The Governor gestured to his henchmen and Ran came forward to cut the bags open. He up ended the sacks and out poured, an old man and a small green Sandjar. They were bound and gagged, it looked like they had been beaten.

  “I think these belong to you,” Darken could not help but smile, he was holding the two captives, as pawns in the negotiations, if necessary but now he had the Grana, they were no longer needed. “We do not need a Callaxion and if we did, it would not be a worn out one. As for the Sandjar, I can have him killed if you like.”

  Andra was about to go to her friend but the King held her back, “Thank you for returning them to me, they are just trade goods and the Sandjar is my pet. I think our trade is done.” He turned to his brother, “Gather the wagons, we travel to the Pass of Moke.”

  “It shall be done,” Agart motioned to the warriors to leave. They picked up the two bound captives and returned to camp.

  Arn had one more thing to say, before leaving, he came close to Darken and starred into his yellow eyes. “If I find out that the Talsonar are to blame for my missing warriors, I will return with a hundred thousand and we will not leave, until every stone of the city is ground to dust.” He turned and left with his men.

  When they were gone, Darken spoke to Ran, in a low voice, “Follow the Nomads and make sure they leave our lands.”

  The Lion-man understood his orders, he left, to make sure the Nomads would be of no further concern.

  Some hours later, Seeda and Almec woke from their peaceful sleep, it seemed like no time had passed at all. When you sleep in the embrace of Ice crystals, you do not dream, you do not need too. All fantasies are fulfilled, all desires satisfied and all hopes are reached. Without the need for hope, there is no future, when you sleep at last, it is like dying the death of an unbeliever, without an Afterlife. No green fields, filled with sunlight and warmth, no joyful meeting, with long past loved ones. Nor is there the cold and dark ice caves of the dammed, no frozen torments to last for an eternity, or the burning Pit of Marloon, there is simply nothing.

  The two warriors sat up and looked at their naked bodies, their vision no longer clouded with the fire of last night. In the bright sunlight of day, they could see every tiny flaw. It was like seeing someone for the first time, you do not love them, nor do you hate them, you simple do not care. Then the memory of what happened, slowly returned, they understood what they had done and why.

  Seeda took Almec’s hand again, this time there was no spark but it felt good anyway, “I never felt anything like that before, I never knew such desire could exist.” Other Worlds, I have seen Other Worlds!

  “It was more than I ever thought possible,” his voice was soft, it made Seeda feel warm again.

  They looked up and saw the twin suns had reached their zenith, they had slept the night away and lost most of the day. In a panic, Seeda began to gather up her clothing and armor. “By all the Gods, half the day is gone, they will be wondering if the Screels have gotten us,” she started to pull on her hide leggings, then her sand boots.

  Almec pulled her playfully to the ground, “It would take more than sand demons to pull me from your side,” he started to kiss her again.

  Seeda was tempted to kiss him back but she pushed him away, she started to think like her old self again, realizing just what she had done. She stood up and pulled on her chest plate and arm bands, “I think we’ve had enough for one night, now are you coming or do I have to walk back to camp alone?”

  Almec would rather have stayed but it was getting late and he suddenly felt very hungry. “I will go with you but when we get back, you can bring me a plate of well-done Rimar and a nice mug of well-aged Po.” The tribe will see and we will be mated.

  Seeda knew what he was asking her to do but it would take more than one night of passion, for her to move her belongings into his tent. “You can get your own drink but perhaps I will share my bowl with you,” she smiled.

  Almec reached for her but she bolted from the rusting hulk, with her young lover racing after her. They were some distance from the fallen ship, when Seeda suddenly stopped, “Wait, I forgot something,” she started back to the ship but her lover, held her back.

  Almec knew why she was going back, in their haste to return to camp, she had left behind her trading pouch, containing the forbidden Ice. He looked at her; the Ice, she wants to return for the Ice, I must stop her, I must save her. “Let us go now, we do not need anything to fill our nights, we have each other,” his voice was filled with love but there was also a hint of a demand.

  For a moment, Seeda almost went with him, then she thought; I am not a bed warmer, I am my own person, the Gods do not control me, I want Other Worlds!

  She pulled away from him, without saying a word, she went back to the wrecked ship, she found her trading pouch, half buried in the sand. She picked it up and held it for a moment, she was tempted to pour its contents to the winds but she did not. She put the pouch into her belt, then walked back to Almec, who was still waiting for her.

  As they walked back to camp they said nothing, they did not know but their lives would never be the same again. As a child, Seeda had tried to read the Book of Isarie but she could never get through the long pages of words that had no meaning to her. Perhaps if she had been a better student, rather t
han spending her time riding Whiptails and fighting with her brothers, she might have remembered one passage. It would have meant something at this time.

  On the thirty-ninth page of the Holy Book, Isarie has created the first two Nomads from the dust on the ground, she holds them in her hand and gives them two green crystals.

  I give you the Salt of the Earth.

  It is the life I give you, it is yours.

  But taste no other, for in their dreams is death.

  Someday those words would return to her but for now, they were just memories, as meaningless as the sand beneath her feet.