Belly of the Beast

by Warren Thomas

  “Of course not!” Nizar said. “Ashtar knows all, sees all. But She needs your help to save him, or at least his soul.”

  Fear clawed at her heart again. Tane’s immortal soul was threatened.

  “I don’t understand what I can do,” she said, suddenly feeling tired and miserable, small and weak. “I couldn’t even defend myself.”

  “Mortals shouldn’t be ashamed of falling to Gods,” Ashtar said. “You had no chance. Your actions since were not your own, but forced upon you by foul magicks of an evil God. The Gods understand that. But your cousin isn’t being controlled with magic. He has free will. You must stop him before he destroys your world and the Gods.”

  “I don’t understand,” Jessy said, trying to remember what Dakar and High Priest were discussing. The High Priest wanted to use her to make Tane help them. But now she was free. “Do you want me to rescue him?”

  “He has escaped,” Nizar said, sounding a bit angry. “If he hadn’t, it would’ve made it far easier. Now it is worse, for he is accompanied by servants of Dakar, who have convinced him to seal the only Gate into this Realm.”

  Jessy was confused. What was this ‘Gate’ he was talking about? How would that destroy Gods?

  “If the Gate is sealed,” Ashtar said, “then the Arisen will be cut off from the world, helpless to help you fight this great evil. You must keep him from sealing the Gate, Jessy. The Arisen Gods, the whole world, depend on you.”

  “Why don’t You do it?” she asked, and was immediately shocked by her own audacity.

  The priest was enraged by the question, but Ashtar just looked annoyed.

  “There are limits placed upon even the Gods, child,” Ashtar said. “As I stand before you now, I am a pale shadow of My true self. Within My personal Realm, I am supreme. Upon the Mortal Realm, I am barely more powerful than a High Priest or Arch Mage. And here, within Dakar’s domain, I am even weaker.”

  “And it is easier for Dakar to discover Her within His domain,” Nizar said. “She has taken great personal risk to come to you, girl. Do not dishonor Her!”

  Jessy felt herself go cold. Never, ever would she insult or dishonor her Goddess!

  Raising a hand to quiet him, Ashtar said, “She only speaks her mind. I am not afraid of the truth.” Turning fiery green eyes on Jessy, She said, “Even weakened as I am, I would like to personally stop your cousin. But I am needed even more elsewhere. The war goes badly, for Our faithful are not united, and We will not steal away their free-will as Dakar has done to the people of the Leltic Lands.”

  “I understand,” Jessy said, even though she didn’t. It was all so confusing. Gods walking the world, waging war with humanity and each other. A Goddess sneaking around in Her enemy’s temple, asking a mortal for help. “I won’t fail you, my Goddess. Once I explain what is happening to Tane, he will stop doing whatever it is Dakar is making him do.”

  “If he does not listen to reason, then you must kill him,” Ashtar said, her eyes and voice steel. “Fear not, for that will save his soul. If you fail, and he lives to seal the Gate, then everyone’s soul is destined to be devoured by Dakar. There will be no afterlife for him, you, or anyone. Only oblivion.”

  “I understand,” she whispered, fighting the burning in her eyes. How could she do such a thing? To kill Tane in any cause would be too terrible an act to live with. It would surely kill her to do so. But...she didn’t have any choice. “I will stop him, my Goddess. I swear on my immortal soul.”

  “Excellent,” Ashtar said. Indicating Nizar, “Father Nizar is one of my most trusted priests. He will accompany you, aid you in any way he can. Listen to him, and he will get you to your cousin in one piece. But it will be up to you to stop him, for Tane’s friends have corrupted his mind. He will not believe that Nizar is My priest. Only you can stop him.”

  “I won’t fail You, my Goddess,” Jessy said.

  Chapter 65

  The frigid south wind roared above the trees, violently shaking the forest around them. On north-south stretches of road the four riders felt the relentless shock of the wind as well. The snow and ice that had blanketed the tree limbs filled the air, making it difficult to see through the resulting white haze. Tane lifted his eyes just long enough to scan the road before them, then lowered them again.

  Joelle rode a dozen paces in front of him, with Armin right behind him. Quinn rode point, some hundred paces ahead of Joelle, and Raven rode rear guard, a like distance behind Armin. Both Joelle and Armin offered to rotate out with Quinn and Raven, but neither would agree. Quinn insisted he had to be point because of his superior senses, at least until the wind relented in its fury. Raven just wanted to be by herself, or so she claimed. Joelle and Armin believed she wanted rear guard because it was more dangerous, and thus a more “honorable” position. Tane didn’t care, because none of them would even consider allowing him to take either position.

  Now I understand how Jessy felt whenever I tried to protect her. Gods, it’s humiliating to be treated like I’m so helpless! Tane thought.

  The fact that he was obviously the most affected by the weather didn’t help his mood. Quinn was the least effected, with his cloak open and frequently thrown back over his shoulders. Raven seemed to actually enjoy it during the rare times when the wind relented. She claimed it was just like a summer day back in her homeland. They all knew better, but she refused to yield, though kept her cloak on nonetheless. Whereas Joelle and Armin were distressed by the cold and snow, but didn’t allow it to effect their vigilance.

  “Halt,” Joelle said, reining in her bay mare.

  Tane stopped beside her, peering into the snowy haze intently. What was the problem? More zombies? They’d been forced to leave the road and hide a dozen times since escaping the previous morning.

  Then Tane realized that Joelle and Armin weren’t looking forward, but back the way they had come. Turning in the saddle, he spotted Raven galloping toward them.

  “Off the road!” Raven shouted. “Horsemen coming. They’re riding hard, too!”

  Tane, Armin and Joelle kicked their mounts to force them into the thick underbrush. Raven raced by, going to alert Quinn.

  Slipping out of the saddle, Tane coerced his gray gelding to lie on his side in the snow. It was a trick Armin had taught him the first time they were forced to quit the road. Then he lay across the horse’s head, stroking him reassuringly to keep the gelding quiet. While he and Armin hid themselves and their mounts, Joelle used her magic to cover their tracks in the snow before taking her own mount down.

  Moments later the muted thunder of horses approached. Tane watched as they passed. All were free-minded men, maybe two hundred in all, wearing gray and black surcoats over armor. Over that they wore black cloaks.

  Mercenaries, Tane thought, eyes narrowing. Betraying humanity for a few coins.

  Tane found the men and women hiring out their swords to Dakar even more disgusting, and disturbing than His priesthood. He could understand people drawn to a God, serving that God, no matter how evil, due to their love and faith, but the mercenaries were only interested in money. They didn’t care about religion, or the future health and happiness of the world. They just wanted wealth and power.

  “Here comes the rear guard,” Armin said, though Tane could hear nothing over the howling wind.

  A heartbeat later the rear guard passed, just twenty men in black and gray, swords in hand. Tane watched them pass, wishing he could put an end to their foul existence right then and there. If he succeeded in vanquishing Dakar, there was no one able to hunt down and punish them. The mercenaries could just pick up and ride away, with no fear of pursuit. In another city, another land, they could tell any story and be believed. Likely, many would be hailed as heroes, falsely believed to have been fighting Dakar’s host.

  Or worse, being the only organized force, they could install themselves as the rulers of the land.

  “Mixed blessings, our mercenary friends,” Armin muttered.

  “How’s that?”r />
  Joelle answered, “Their presence means that free-minded men and women exist in the conquered lands, and are accepted by the zombies without question. On the other hand, it means that Dakar has the means to send extremely dangerous forces to hunt us.”

  “At least we know that zombies won’t instantly attack us,” Armin said. “Unless Dakar has some way of telling them what we look like.”

  “Which I wouldn’t doubt He does,” Tane said. Then an idea formed. “What if we dressed like the mercenaries serving Dakar?”

  “Yes,” Armin said, thoughtfully stroking his mount’s withers. “Zombies and priests alike would just see a mercenary, not a threat. Even the other mercenaries wouldn’t realize what we are, at least not at first.”

  “True. Communication has to be difficult, even for a God. The three groups we’ve seen are probably functioning independently of each other,” Joelle said. “We could always claim to be a patrol of another troop.”

  “We’ll need to get the proper clothing,” Tane said, remembering how all the mercenaries wore the same surcoats and cloaks, though arms and armor differed between individuals and units. “We should send Quinn out scouting for a small patrol to ambush.”

  “An interesting idea, but – wait,” she said, tilting her head to hear better. The faint sound of hooves drifted to them on the wind. She closed her eyes and chanted softly a moment. “It’s Quinn and Raven.”

  Once they were all together, Tane told Quinn and Raven his idea, asking if the half-elf thought he could do it.

  Quinn shrugged it off, saying, “I was about to tell you that there is a vast army camped on the other side of the hill. I suspect there will be mercenaries aplenty to rob and loot.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Raven said, nudging Quinn in the ribs. “In fact, I already have a great plan.”

  “Sweet Mother, save us from her plan!”

  “No, it’s really great. I’ll be the only person endangering herself,” Raven said, eyes atwinkle.

  Tane and Joelle exchanged a wary look. She looked to be planning mischief, not a raid.

  “All right, I’ll ask,” Armin said with supreme reluctance. “What is your plan?”

  “This is how it’ll be,” she said. “I’ll go in alone at dusk. You four will pretend to be zombies that happen to wander in behind me. Then I’ll find some likely man, and lure him into the shadows for some fun loving. Of course, the rest of you will be waiting to jump him. Five times, and before you can say ‘Raven is a genius’ we should all be dressed in mercenary black and gray.”

  Tane liked it.

  “We’ll all be dead by midnight,” Quinn said. “That has to be the worst plan I’ve ever heard. Do you have any idea the risk you’d be taking? Not to mention the risk to the rest of us if we’re recognized. Zombies aren’t particularly bright, but their minds are focused. If Dakar has them looking for us, you can believe they will look closely at everyone they pass, day or night.”

  “He’s right, Raven,” Joelle said. “Since we’ve all been entranced by the zombie spell, we can appreciate his argument. I know I was intently focused on keeping Tane working on that Sword of Power.”

  “Oh, rot,” Raven said, but didn’t argue the point.

  “It might not be so bad,” Armin said. “Quinn said an army sits in front of us, meaning we’ll have to make a detour around it. There will be parameter defenses, probably even patrols.”

  “Yes,” Tane said, excited again. “And if we find a small patrol, we can attack them and take their clothes and gear.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Raven said. “I love riding through the snow in blood-drenched clothing. At least my way would’ve gotten them to undress themselves before we killed them.”

  “We can club them,” Quinn said, glaring daggers at her. “The forest floor is covered with potential clubs.”

  “You both have a point,” Tane said before Raven could respond. Turning to Quinn, “How close is the camp? Should we wait until dark before moving on?”

  “Night would be best,” he said. “I don’t know how large the camp is, since Raven’s warning came just as I spotted it through the trees. But it looked big, maybe ten or more thousand. An army that size will have large patrols guarding its parameter.”

  “An army that size will have large gaps in its parameter,” Raven said. “It might be possible to sneak past the guards and waylay a mercenary or five. Or, if we’re vigilant, we can take out the occasional lone sentry along the way, until each of us is outfitted like one of Dakar’s mercenaries.”

  “I like the second idea best,” Quinn said. “It very well might be possible to take down a few mercenaries in the dark. But I advise against doing anything so risky as venturing into the encampment.”

  “You would,” Raven grumbled. “But even if we aren’t given the opportunity to snatch a few mercenaries as we skirt the camp, I’m sure there will be patrols on the road to Treversax for us to harvest. With Quinn’s abilities at night, we shouldn’t have too hard a time sneaking up to their camps late at night and taking what we need.”

  Everyone thought that idea sound enough, though Quinn did frown. So after working their way deeper into the underbrush, they made a cold camp and waited for nightfall, bedding down to get what sleep they could. Tane was so excited that he knew he’d never fall asleep, but lay down anyway. Soon, he was oblivious to the world.

  Chapter 66

  Nizar sighed with relief at the sight before them. Jessy stiffened in the saddle, but kept her thoughts to herself. She had already argued against entering the “enemy” camp. But Nizar was determined, as much for the comfort and relief from the biting cold it promised as for the opportunity it afforded him in capturing Tane and his friends.

  “Trust me,” Nizar whispered as a trio of mercenaries rode toward them.

  He was still dressed as a priest of Dakar, while she wore the black and gray livery of a loyal mercenary. He saw little suspicion in the faces of the approaching men.

  “Declare yourselves!” the lead mercenary shouted, hand on hilt.

  “I am Brother Nizar al-Sayyid, and this is my bodyguard, Jessy,” he said. He drew a pass signal in the air, then spoke a short prayer that had Dakar mentally confirm his identity. The veil hid his grin, knowing that Jessy was blissfully unaware of the prayer that saved them from being seized. He would be unable to explain to her how a priest of Ashtar could call upon Dakar. “Though our path is different than your own, we desire shelter for the night.”

  Satisfied, the mercenary let them pass without further questions. Jessy’s eyes grew large after they passed the mercenaries.

  “That was too easy,” she whispered. “It’s a trap.”

  “No, my child, it is not,” Nizar said. She seemed to find comfort when he assumed that calm, priestly demeanor with her. “Ashtar is with us, and I have a trick or two myself. The sign I drew in the air is their pass signal. We are safe enough. Ashtar is watching over us.”

  “How often do they change the signal?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, giving her a suspicious look. Since Dakar confirmed identities, they had no need to change their pass sign. It hadn’t even occurred to him that there would even be such a need with a regular army. “But Ashtar is watching over us. If the pass sign is changed, She will inform me.”

  His confident words eased her worries some, but she was still wary as she looked around the encampment. Nizar turned to study the lay of the camp, amused by her concerns. She accepted him, and that was enough for him.

  The encampment wasn’t the largest he had seen since coming to Dakar’s service, but it appeared to be the best organized. Whoever the priest in command of this host was, he would bear some close scrutiny in the future. And if High Priest Mogens visited, the priest would be in grave danger. Gods forbid that such a talent in organization come to challenge Mogens in the future.

  Nizar hoped they managed to kill each other, saving him the need to do so in the future.

  The only mistake
Nizar could fault the commander with was a poor choice of campsites. They stopped for the night in a vast fire-cleared area, along the northside of a line of low hills. If their enemies sent warhawk riders on a long range reconnaissance patrol this way, then they would be easily found and counted.

  Spotting a small clump of scorched trees near the edge of the clearing, he pointed and said, “Wait for me over there.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked, suddenly alarmed.

  “I’m pretending to be a priest of Dakar, remember? I must report in or they will become suspicious,” he said. “And since you are so nervous, I believe it best if I go alone. I shouldn’t be long, and might even be able to talk them into providing us with a tent for the night.”

  “But what if someone approaches me? What if someone asks me questions?” she said. “I don’t know what to say, or how to act.”

  “Act arrogant, and belligerent,” he said. “My experience with mercenaries shows that they are all full of themselves, and many think the world is out to get them.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good. Have faith, my child,” he said, and parted company with her.

  Once Jessy was lost in the crowd, he stopped a mercenary and got directions to the High Priest’s pavilion. Normally that would be easy to find in such an encampment, but from his location Nizar could see three pavilions. He learned from the mercenary that at least five hosts had been assembled here, each with its own commander and pavilion. Each individual priest also had a small tent, usually captured squad tents. There appeared to be hundreds of the smaller tents, each set up in the middle of that priest’s own command.

  As he rode, Nizar felt himself relax. It was difficult maintaining his disguise as a priest of Ashtar disguised as a priest of Dakar with Jessy. Fortunately, she was full of youthful acceptance of other people at face value. In a few more years she would likely be too cynical to accept him at his word without firm proof. Indeed, Jessy hadn’t even demanded proof that Ashtar was Ashtar. Dakar was prepared to prove Himself to be Ashtar, but she accepted Him in His disguise as the Arisen Goddess of War and Adventure without a second thought.