Nomads of the Gods

by Gary Mark Lee

  Chapter 50. The Gods Arise

  I am the God of Heaven and Earth.

  Before me was my father, the God of past and future.

  After me will come another God, greater than those before.

  But that time is beyond Eternity and it is only the beginning.

  From the Book of Isarie.

  General Leeander gave the signal to attack, he'd ordered is soldiers to march all night and now he ordered them into battle. They came from the East, ten thousand and more seasoned troops and hungry Yangmar. They moved quickly to the aid of their comrades, eager to feel the enemy die at their hands.

  The Nomads were caught in a trap, there was nothing for them to do but fight and die with honor. They would not die quietly, they screamed their war cries and swung their battle-axes in fury, the fighting madness was upon them now and nothing would stop them from killing, killing, killing.

  His face caked with blood and bleeding from numerous cuts, Kadar shouted to his warriors, “We die but the Gods will remember our names!” Then he continued to fight and men fell to his weapon again and again.

  From his battle wagon, Darken smiled as he watched his reinforcements pouring into the fight. They know my power, they know they face a God; he thought.

  As the war raged on, the Shadow-men struck at all around them, they killing Nomad and Talsonar. Long years of hiding and the torment they had undergone, poured out in a frenzy of blood and death. When their arrows were exhausted, they drew steel weapons and continued to kill the people of light.

  Obec and her Handmaidens, watched the carnage, the battle had reached the Holy Wagon and her Thungodra were fighting for the High Priestess' life as well as their own. The warriors of Isarie, were strong and they had the power of belief, the strength of a Goddess. They stood together like a dark wall of death and no one, Shadow-man, Talsonar or any who did not believe passed them. They died with a prayer and a smile on their lips, knowing they would soon be standing at Isarie's side, to guard her in the Golden Hall.

  Overhead, the sky grew more violent, thunder shook the dark clouds that rolled over a land soaked red with blood, mixing with the cries of death.

  The Darkman stood without moving as he looked down from his lair; they die, they all die; he thought. The sight did not make him weep, on the contrary, it made him smile. Let them all die, let it be finished.

  It was not a prayer for he did not believe in Gods, simply words to fill the emptiness in his heart. To the men behind him, he said. “Give the signal to the Sky-Riders.”

  The men blew their signal horns, loud and strong, for a moment there was nothing then from high overhead came the sound of huge beating wings and wild cries that filled the air.

  The Darkman looked up with a smile to see hundreds of creatures flying off the plateau above. They blackened the sky and their screams mixed with the thunder to make a cacophony of terror, each Screecher carried a Sky-Rider on its back and now they plummeted down onto the battlefield.

  The Sky-Riders fired arrows down upon the warriors causing more death and pain, then they dipped low to rake the Talsonar soldiers with claws and sharp beaks. The Talsonar fought back with their chamber rifles and fired explosive shells into the sky to blast the winged creatures into pieces of flesh that fell upon them like blood rain.

  The Talsonar Long-Range weapons continued to roar death and the blast shook the ground. Fire swept over the land, wagons, men, and beasts burned. As their shells rained death, the Disruptors prepared to fire, they had been waiting until the Nomads were in range. They started charging, ready, to fill the air with their devastating sound but then something happened for which they were not prepared. One by one the Disruptors were blown to pieces.

  Powerful blasts sent the weapons flying into the sky, putting an end to their destruction before it started. When the last of them was gone, the Long-Range weapons came under fire, from where and by whom they did not know. Before an enemy could be found, they too were destroyed and their rain of death from the sky ended.

  Darken saw his heavy guns being destroyed, seeing his power being diminished sent him into a rage. What is this? His mind was filled with fire; who would dare to challenge a God? Before he could find someone to die for his rage, the command wagon began to tremble, slowly at first then increasing. The Governor grabbed the railing and looked frantically about for the cause of the shaking. Then as he glanced to his rear, he saw something that made his heart sink. Over a small rise came hundreds of thundering Rimar.

  The moved like an unstoppable wall of roaring death, their massive feet pounding the ground, sending up a great cloud of dust and causing the ground to rumble like a Land-quake. They stampeded straight for the Talsonar army and they could not be turned. Behind the huge beasts rode the Outcasts of the Gods.

  Andra shouted as loud as she could and the Nomads with her, beat their shields and screamed out their tribal war cries. Arn rode besides her shouting and waving his battle-ax like Atos the God of War, together they led their army into battle and glory.

  It was Andra’s plan, to use the great beasts to shatter the Talsonar army, Arn told her that once the Rimar started to run, there was nothing that could turn them from their path. She now used this knowledge to smash the forces of the Stone City and send them fleeing for their lives and flee they did.

  The Hal-Jafar tried to stand but soon found that their chamber rifles had no effect on the huge creatures. The Rimar's armored hide was much too thick to be penetrated by the projectiles from their guns. Although they caused some pain, it only infuriated the beasts further and made them charge all the faster. Seeing it was useless to fight, the Talsonar soldiers threw down their weapons and began to flee in panic.

  Darken watched his troops run. “Cowards, cowards!” he roared, “they are all cowards!” He watched in horror, as the men, around him began to flee one by one. The Trofar that pulled the wagon began to panic, they lurched forward and raced to escape. Their drivers let the reins drop from their hands and abandoned their posts. Fools, I have foolish toys; he thought.

  With everything around him shaking, he looked up to see the figure of a naked woman with red marks on her thin body.

  Seeda had awoken from her cold sleep, the sound of war and the shaking had roused her, she stood looking out at the battlefield and listening to the thunder in the sky. Where am I? What is that noise, is this the Afterlife? In her waking dream she looked at Darken's face; is he my mate?

  Before she found an answer, the command wagon struck a large bolder and overturned. With a splintering of wood and grinding metal, its massive bulk shattered and split open. Its contents burst out like the entrails of a slaughtered animal as it lay on its side in a cloud of dust and dirt. The Trofar that had been pulling it, broke free from their harnesses and raced away, trampling more soldiers under their massive feet.

  Seeda managed to leap clear as the armored vehicle crashed, now she staggered to her feet and looked around. She saw dozens of dead Nomads and the veil of forgetfulness began to slowly lift. Maybe it was the sound of steel on steel, or the smell of death and the cries of the dying. Whatever reason, the cold that had taken her began to melt and in its place came the warmth of life.

  Close by Darken Droganus rose to his feet, blood flowed down from the smashed plate in his head like crimson ringlets and his right hand had been severed at the wrist. He still stood proud and defiant, he saw his plaything looking at him. “What are you looking at?” he shouted. “You are nothing, you're just a toy!”

  Seeda did not understand him, she still did not know how she came to be here or why. She looked at a fallen warrior by her feet and suddenly felt compelled to pick up the blooded ax in his hand, her fingers grasped the wooden handle firmly, in that moment she remembered her long forgotten name. Seeda? They called me Seeda!

  With the weapon in hand, she walked cautiously towards the reptile man. Faces began to move in her mind, faces without names but they filled her heart with emotion, the faces of Arn and Agart. Th
ey called me sister, they called me warrior.

  As she got closer to Darken, another face came into her mind, the face of Egmar. She called me daughter and I called her mother. She stood close to the Talsonar Governor and would be God. One more face flashed before her, Almec, he called me his mate and he was my world.

  Darken looked at her and he smiled. “What do you think you're doing? You are nothing but a broken toy, a toy that is mine.”

  Seeda stood like a statue but in her eyes burned the fire of vengeance, she struck like lightning. The battle-ax whistled through the air, cutting deeply into the self-made God's chest, sending up a spray of blood that washed over her naked body staining it dark red.

  Darken stood motionless, he looked at the heavy blade protruding from his body and he knew he was going to die. Killed by a toy; he thought; can a toy kill a God? There was no answer, just the mocking laughter of far off Gods. Laughter, what are they laughing at? He fell to the ground and all was darkness.

  The earth beneath Seeda’s feet began to shake hard as the wave of Rimar bore down on her. She turned to looked at the wall of death coming towards her, she did not flee. She stood proudly and lifted her arms to the sky, in her hand she held the Judgment of Isarie and on her lips, the death song of her tribe. She listened to the crashing thunder and felt the wind on her face, in that instant she remembered it all, all the glory and pain. All the fear and love, the glorious life that once had been hers, she remembered it all.

  And she was enthralled, the forgotten Princess of the Almadra shouted a name that filled her soul with warmth. “Almec!” She closed her eyes and waited for the Angel of Death to take her. It did not matter, because for one shining moment she was once again a proud warrior of the Almadra.

  High above, the Darkman watched as his dream of conquest came crashing down. He watched as the wave of Rimar charged over the Talsonar soldiers, driving them forward onto the weapons of his people. They did not stop, the Outcast warriors continued driving them forward, the great horned beasts pushed against the Shadow-men breaking their ranks and sending them fleeing like the rest. The Sky-Riders began to fly off too, their Screechers feared the horned beasts and refused their rider's commands.

  The Shadow-man stood alone, those who were with him were gone. He watched his people dying before him and with them the creatures of the light. They die; he thought; they will all die. For a moment he felt fulfillment, then something came to his mind; they die but they die together.

  Knowing he had no one to stand with him, cut deep into his cold heart and he wished he was down with them, dying proudly and walking into the Afterlife together.

  Below Obec prayed to the Goddess, around her the Handmaidens also prayed, they prayed for Isarie to save them and come to their aid. They prayed for mercy but the Gods did not hear them. As the battle raged around them, the Thungodra held their ground and the old woman looked up at the flashes of lightning in the sky and saw the clouds turn red. “Why have you abandoned me?” she shouted, “I am your right hand, I am your voice, I am your strength!”

  The Holy Wagon was shaken violently as the Rimar slammed into its side, the force of the blow was immense and the platform on which she stood broke and tumbled to the ground. Several Handmaidens fell with her, amongst them was Soffca.

  Soffca lay with blood on her lips, looking at her mistress, she spoke with a pain filled voice. “Will I see her face?” she asked.

  Obec gave no reply and the young woman raised her arms to the sky. “I know your book, I follow its teaching. I believe,” she said quietly. Then Isarie's trusting servant passed from this life into the next.

  Obec rose gingerly to her feet, the Rimar had passed and around her lay dozens of dead Thungodra. They had died to a man without quitting their posts, seeing them did not bring tears to the old woman eyes. She saw a mass of warriors and Shadow-men riding towards her. Some were on fire, their bodies ablaze they screamed as death came for them. The beasts they were riding were also burning, as they came closer she saw their riders waving their weapons like demons from the Pit of Marloon.

  Then came a vision that had once comforted her in days long past, a vision that now became all too real. Fire and steel. As she stood screaming in terror, her eyes filled with fire but not the fire of the battlefield, it was the eternal flames of the Pit of Marloon.

  At the center of the army of Outcasts, Osh and Endo fought from their wagon and did their best to stay alive. The young Sandjar fired his chamber rifle and brought down a Talsonar with each shot, beside him his father handed him ammunition and killed two soldiers who tried to climb onto their vehicle. He was afraid but his fear for his son's life, was greater than his fear for his own life, so he found the courage to fight and together they managed to stay alive.

  Arn and Andra fought side by side, they rode their war maddened Whiptails into the very heart of battle and handed out death left and right. The fighting madness was now with them, Andra had been in many battles on many worlds and in all of them she had been afraid. Now the fear was gone, beside her stood the man she loved and their bond was complete, their minds were one and they fought as one, no enemy could stand before them.

  Arn fought like a God, with each blow from his mighty war-ax an enemy fell, his reptilian armor was covered in blood and gore and sweat ran down his face in ringlets. Still he fought on and on, he looked over to see Andra screaming and fighting like a she demon and it made him feel very proud. She was sent by the Gods to stand at my side; smiling he turned to deal out death once again.

  Andra could see her lover battling for his life, she could feel his heart in her mind and its beat made her strong; if I die, then I die with him; she thought. She turned back to face her foe and left her life in the hands of fate.

  General Leeander watched his troops, being trampled by the thundering Rimar, with their defeat he saw his own plans for glory being ground to dust. While his soldiers threw down their weapons and ran away screaming, he did not. He knew, running would be useless, so he stood his ground and with his head held high he watched the wall of pounding death come towards him. I have been beaten but I did not run.

  With pride in his eyes, he stood to attention and met his end with honor.

  For a time the battle continued but as more Talsonar soldiers fled, so did the Yangmar. Having nowhere to run, they raced for the Heart of Shawcona, hoping to find some shelter and perhaps regroup for another attack. As they came close their hearts began to beat faster, they saw no enemy just a vast field of small white flowers.

  Without pause, they raced into the vegetation and as soon as they did, they knew something was wrong. Any skin not covered by armor began to burn and with the burning came intense pain, soon they were screaming in torment and ripping at their legs mad with pain. The Yangmar fared no better, their thicker hides allowed them to race further into the flowers and prolonged their deaths. Suddenly they stopped and began roaring in pain, some tried to run back but other warriors pushed them back onto the deadly blossoms and to their death.

  The Moonbuds had no effect on the Rimar, centuries of exposure to the small poisonous flowers had made them immune to its venom. They rushed forward crushing the dying Yangmar under their huge feet.

  The Shadow-men also died, many of them threw down their weapons and turned to meet their fate at the hands of the Outlanders. The Nomads did not find pleasure in killing defenseless enemies, when they saw that the Shadow-men had given up the fight, they let them live.

  As the light began to fade, the war in the Outlands slowly drew to an end.

  The Talsonar who had not died in the fight ran from the battlefield and scattered to the winds. There weren't many but those who survived, would live long enough to tell how the Nomads and the Gods defeated them.

  Standing on a small rise, looking back at the carnage, Tamar-Ran stood bloody and tired, his body was cut and bruised but he was still alive, with him were several other lucky Stone City soldiers. He wiped his face with the back of his large hand and
smiled to himself. They are strong but we fought well; he thought.

  He turned with his men and began to walk away, with a little luck, they could return to the Stone City by following the markers they'd set out as they entered the Outlands. As they walked the Lion-man began to smile, he knew the city would need a new Governor. Maybe he could fill that need, he may not last too long but during that time he would have all the Marsh-beer he could drink.

  Egmar walked carefully over the land, littered with the bodies of her people. Nomads and Shadow-men lay side by side, in life they were enemies but in death they were together. With them were the slain Talsonar, in the blood and debris it was hard to tell them apart. To the Queen it did not matter, her heart felt pain for everyone and her tears fell for all.

  She walked quietly among the bodies looking for signs of life but there was none, only the silence of the grave and the beating of her merciful heart. She heard soft moaning, like a tiny bird calling for its mother, she went towards the sound and saw a hand reaching out from under a dead Thungodra. She took hold of the hand, “Do not be afraid,” she said gently, “I will care for you.”

  Gathering her strength she pushed the dead body aside and looked at the face of the person in need. She saw, her son Anais' bloody face, there was a deep cut across his face and eyes, from the look of the wound, she knew he would be blind forever.

  He lived in darkness and now the darkness has taken him. She knelt at his side and took him into her arms.

  He looked towards her and spoke in a whisper. “Who is there, who are you?”

  Egmar gazed at his dimmed eyes, “Someone who loves you,” she said quietly. She cradled his head to her breast and gently rocked him as she sang a song from his childhood.

  In all the nights of your dreaming.

  I will be there to hold you.

  In all the days of your waking.

  I will be there to love you.

  Anais heard his mother's words and for the first time in many years his face felt the warmth of remorseful tears.

  The fighting was done but not the battle for control of the Outlands. The Shadow-men put down their arms, perhaps it was because they had exhausted all their hate but for whatever reason, they now stood side by side with the Nomads.

  On the blood stained ground, Arn stood looking at Kadar. They were surrounded by the warriors and lesser Kings of the many, different Nomad tribes. The wind still blew, thunder and lightning raged overhead, now and then the earth shook but none of this seemed to matter to the two warriors.

  They stood watching the Outcast King and the Armrod leader as they faced each other. Their armor was caked with blood and gore and they were bleeding from numerous cuts on their arms and legs. Kadar’s one good arm held a battle-ax and so did Arn.

  Then the old King spoke. “You were made Outcast, yet you returned, why?”

  Arn looked over at Andra and next to him Osh and Endo, behind them stood the Outcast warriors, Kuno, Valen and the rest who stood by him, he looked back at Kadar.

  “Because my people were in need,” he said proudly, “but if you wish to challenge me then I am ready,” and saying that he lifted his ax and braced his feet.

  The old King did not raise his ax, he simply smiled, “Not on such a fine day.” He dropped his weapon and began to laugh and soon all the Outland's warriors were laughing with him.

  As the air filled with the Nomad's cries of victory, the lightning suddenly stopped, the wind ceased and the ground was still. It was eerily quiet, with nothing stirring, the warriors stopped cheering and stood like statues. In they heard a voice their minds.

  It spoke without words, sound or a language, it was soft but strong and it spoke as if it knew their inner hearts. Then they heard the ground shaking but this time it did not roll over the land, it came from everywhere, it seemed to come from deep underground, from the planet's very core.

  Around them, boulders that were strewn about, began to rise slowly off the ground, moving upward as if unseen hands were lifting them. One by one, they rose and continued upwards into the sky. Cracks began to open in the earth and from them, more rocks began moving up into the heavens and all the while the people of the Outlands stood watching.

  Why they did not flee in terror was a mystery, others would have ran screaming for their lives. The wordless voice, told them they had nothing to fear, so they stood watching silently.

  The voice spoke again, heard and understood by all, a clear message. “The Gods will arise.”

  Andra standing beside Arn, watched as the world around, began to change, without thinking she took her lover's hand and together they watched something impossible but it was happening.

  With rumbling and loud cracking, the Heart of Shawcona began to rise, ever so slowly. The great rock, pulled free from the hard ground, sending up a cloud of earth and dust. It rose slowly until all connection with the earth beneath it was severed. It floated like a gigantic dark spot in the thundering sky, boulders the size of Rimar fell from its base, to crash back to the ground but still the huge mountain continued to rise and with it the Darkman.

  He looked down on the place that gave him birth, the place where he had lived in pain and sorrow and as it moved slowly away, he no longer felt hatred. It seemed to leave him like the world below, the voice he had refused to hear for so long, spoke to him and he listened at last.

  What it said will never be known, the words were for him alone. Maybe it spoke of forgiveness and a place where he would no longer feel alone and afraid, a place filled with sunlight that did not burn.

  The Darkman listen for a moment and his heart was moved, then he suddenly, shook his head, “No!” he screamed, “I will not listen, I will not listen!” With a shout he threw himself from the cliff face and fell headlong to the earth below.

  Andra watched the sky and she remembered the dream she had so long ago, a dream of a battlefield littered with dead bodies and a sky filled with lightning and thunder. A dark mountain rising in a heaven filled with fire, now the dream was coming true, seeing it brought tears to her eyes. The Gods are rising, we are not alone.

  Arn looked at Andra; if this is our end then I am satisfied.

  All over the World of Gorn beings stopped and looked to the heavens, they saw great chunks of earth rising into the cosmos. From the Great Western Sea to the Forests of Caltarine, to the Plains of Darmock and the Breast of Isarie, they all watched. The Galu in the dark jungles of Yug stopped feeding and looked up to see earth lifting into the sky, the Finger of Solus was no more, it was pulled upwards. The Mountains of Kresh broke apart and huge sections moved skyward and the Sky-Riders in their caves, huddled in fear while their Screechers took to the air in panic. In the Greenland’s the giant Earth-shakers rose from their sleep and soared into the heavens.

  Leviathans of the deep oceans swam down into realms without light, far beyond the sight of angry Gods, it was the same in all the lands of Gorn. The ground rose up and the voice continued to speak, even the Great Pyramid Cities were affected.

  In the mighty Talsonar pyramid, the people streamed out and looked up to the heavens, they prayed to their many Gods and beat their hands upon their chests. Some cried out that it was the end of the world, while others stood immobile and shook with fear. The inhabitants of the world of Gorn shook and waited for the Gods to decide their fate.

  Osh watched the sky and heard the voice, it was the same gentle voice that called to him in his dream. The same caring voice that haunted him with visions he could not understand but now the images in his mind came together. He saw them form into knowledge he could understand, standing beside his son, he wept, for all his questions were answered, all was revealed.

  How long the rumbling lasted was not known, time itself passed unnoticed. The shaking did stop and the people of the Outlands looked up to see a night sky that had changed. There was an extra moon in their world, a new smaller sister to join them in their endless quest across the heavens. A new Goddess to which all who believed in Isa
rie, could pray.