Nomads The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  Chapter 37. Power and Pain

  Arm-Ra was the first of all Gods and he ruled the universe with fire and steel, then he was betrayed by his daughter Isarie and his mate Nigor and he was slain on the field of battle.

  And with the coming of the sun he rose up again more powerful than before and cast out his mate and his daughter to a world of death and pain, and there they will dwell until the end of time for the power of Arm-Ra is without end.

  From the book of Arm-Ra.

  The Fortress of the Norgonie, was no longer a place of joy and singing. In the days and nights since their Queen had left, the people of the Forrest, grew more and more vengeful towards the Nomads of the Outlands. Whenever they saw an Almadran, they would speak vile words under their breath, and utter curses that the Nomads children should die, and their warriors become weak. They also refused to share bread with them, or trade or give them Eul to burn. In return, the Nomads called them vermin of the trees, eaters of worms and all sorts of names, too vile to mention.

  Soon the warriors of each tribe began to quarrel, drawing weapons and shouting challenges to one another. Were it not for Kuno, the Madrigal would have gone to war. He had given his word to the King that there would be peace between them, he would not break that oath. He posted many sentries, and gave orders that if any man or woman fell asleep during their watch, he would do far worse to them than the Path of Pain.

  Ormandis, the High Priest of the Norgonie, also ordered his people not to quarrel with the Outlanders. He sent his monks throughout the Fortress, seeking out those who grumbled. They were taken to the gates, to be shown the rotting remains, of those who disobeyed.

  Now the night was quiet, with only the cries of the Sagar cats beyond the walls, to break the silence. There was no singing in the camp of the Nomads, and the Elders kept the children inside their tents.

  Kuno walked slowly through his tribe, making sure that all was in order. He checked that no one drank too much, least they become dizzy with power, and start a war with the Forrest Dwellers. This did not stop the big Captain from replacing the water in his canteen, with well-aged Po and taking frequents drafts from it. He wished that he could visit the quarters of Balru, to embrace her. Even though their two tribes were angry, there was no hatred in his heart for the big forest woman.

  After a time, Kuno came to a campfire with several young warriors. He knew they were angry because they could not drink, and only had dried Rimar to eat. He stood besides the campfire, to let them see that he was there, after a moment he spoke.

  “Is the Rimar tough tonight?” he asked.

  One of the warriors thought the question over for a time then made his reply, “the Rimar is very tough and we have no wine to drink, nor song to sing, nor women to hold”, he said plainly.

  Hearing those words, the big Captain spoke again, “if the meat is too hard for your young teeth, have an old woman chew it for you, and if you have no wine, fill your cups with water mixed with blood. Listen to your weeping, if you have no song to sing, and if you have no woman to hold, run home to your mothers, to tell them of your troubles”.

  The warriors understood what Kuno was trying to tell them, after a moment they nodded their heads, the captain of the Spikebacks smiled at them. “Is the Rimar tough?” he asked again.

  This time the warriors answered quickly, “No, the Rimar is tender and the water is sweeter than well-aged Po. We will hold our weapons tonight and fill the air with the song of silence”.

  Kuno smiled again at the young warriors, he turned to walk away, as he did, he saw many torches coming towards him. He knew that the Norgonie, were on the march.

  Instantly he heard the sound of the signal horns, and Nomad warriors gathering up their weapons. The cries of the Elders, carried over the air, as they hurriedly ran to the tents and wagons. They began praying to Isarie for mercy. All through the Outlander's camp, warriors made ready for battle, quickly gathered about Kuno, awaiting his orders in defense of their tribe.

  The old warrior had seen many wars, he was wise in the ways of battle. As the column of Norgonie drew closer, he knew that they did not intend to fight. He knew this because they were not wearing their war paint and armor. They also moved on foot, not atop their armored Rowgors, as they would do when meeting an enemy. Lastly, he saw in the glowing torchlight that it was their High Priest leading the column, not the strongest warriors of the tribe. One thing Kuno had learned over his many cycles, was that Holy Men do not lead their followers to their deaths. They stay behind in the safety of their temples.

  When the Forrest Dwellers came close enough to call out, he held up his big hand in a greeting to them. “It is late, if you are hungry we have some Rimar that is not to tough.” A few of the younger warriors chuckled, hearing the sharp words from Kuno, for like all youth, they were content to poke a sleeping Sagar.

  The Norgonie showed no response, but a shaven headed monk came forward, to address the Captain. “The High Priest of Arm-Ra, the greatest of all Gods, would speak with your Holy Woman”, he said coldly.

  Kuno smiled and scratched his chin, with a wide grin he said. “Arm-Ra you say? I think I have heard of this lessor God, our Holy Mother is sleeping, perhaps if you come back at Sunbirth?”

  Hearing the Nomad insulting their God, made the Norgonie grumble under their breath, and they rattled their Kagars. Before anything else could be said, a Handmaiden of Isarie, moved to the front of the Nomads. At her side were a dozen heavily armed Thungodra. Seeing the guardians of the Holy Mother coming forward, Kuno stopped smiling, he opened a path so that the young woman could stand at his side. She waited for a moment, then spoke calmly to the monk.

  “The Holy Mother will speak with the great and wise Oramandis”.

  Knowing that going against the wishes of the Holy Mother, would bring down the wrath of the Thungodra, the big captain bowed his head to the Handmaiden.

  “As the Holy Mother wishes”, he said. He watched as several Monks, carried the High Priest on a golden litter towards Egmar's tent. As they walked away, Kuno uttered a saying that he had always found to be true.

  “Gods sometimes choose liars, to speak their truths”.

  Egmar was not sleeping, even though the hour was late, she now preferred darkness to the light of day. She lay back on her soft bed, wearing only a thin robe, made from Troca cocoons. In the pale light from the torches, she seemed almost naked. Her arms were adorned with the finest gold and silver, beside her, was a golden bowl of Tran. The forbidden Crystal Grana that now filled her veins with new life. She lay there most content, she had indulged in many vices that evening. Not just the company of young Nomads, but also the strong bodies of Norgonie warriors and maidens pressed against her flesh. It would have been bad for the Forest-dwellers, if their tribe had found out that they were sharing the night, with the High Priestess. Sufficient, gold, silver and shells could buy the silence of anyone. They were smuggled into the chamber of the Holy Woman by the Thungodra guards, they obeyed without question. The hour was late now, so they and the Handmaidens, were sent away. Egmar wished to rest, as she was about to drift off into slumber, she heard her dark companion speak.

  “A false prophet comes”, it said.

  Raising from her bed, the Holy Mother looked at the Book of Isarie. It was now lying on the cluttered floor, like so many castoff garments. Sitting on top of the inlaid cover, was the black spider of her dreams.

  “Ormandis wishes to speak with me?” she asked.

  “Yes”, the phantom replied, “ be warned he is not who you think”.

  This brought a smile to the Holy Mothers lips, she now enjoyed games of deception, playing Chance-cards with the Gods, was the best game of all. She arose from her bed and was about to wrap herself in more appropriate attire, then she caught a glimpse of herself in a reflecting plate nearby.

  How beautiful I am now; she thought. It was true, her body no longer bore any sign of the terrible scars that she once wore so proudly. Her skin was smooth, and alth
ough she was far from being a second cycle maiden, she still had the regal beauty that was a mark of her tribe.

  Seeing how lovely she was, and knowing the lustful hearts of men, she decided not to wear her robe. She would greet the speaker of Arm-Ra, as she was.

  There was a sound at her camber entrance, a young Handmaiden spoke.

  “His Holiness Ormandis, wishes to speak with you, Holy Mother”, she said softly.

  “Send him in.”

  The Handmaiden went to carry out her mistress’s wishes. Egmar went to an ornate wooden table at the center of her chamber, there sat a large silver wine dispenser and two well-crafted cups. A small golden phial, filled with a rare fragrance was also on the table. She splashed herself with its contents. The perfume was called, “Torac-Dar” or Souls-Arise, it was made from the crushed petals of the Death Shadow, its fragrance was said to raise the passion of dead men.

  How wonderful; Egmar thought as the invigorating odor filled her nostrils; it reminds me of someone I once knew? She was unable to recall just who that person was, or why she should care. She no longer had any feelings for Karn, her former mate, and the long summer nights when she would lay in his strong arms. She wanted to dance, and was about to do so, when the voice of the Handmaiden was heard once more.

  “Ormandis, High Priest of the Norgonie, is here Holy One”, she said lifting the curtain separating Egmar’s chambers from the rest of the great tent.

  It had been a very long time, since Egmar has seen the High Priest. As she looked at him, she did not see any change to his features, there was only a slight impression that his wrinkled face had grown even sourer. “Please come in and we shall talk”, Egmar said with a smile. The old priest moved to a large chair near the table, the Holy Mother was thinking; he has grown weaker under the weight of his cycles. Her smile was not one of pleasure for having him in her tent, but for knowing that he had come to her, not the other way round.

  The old Norgonie seated himself then adjusted his flowing robe, he waited a moment or two, enjoying the sight, around him. Especially the crystal Tran that lay on her bed. This Holy Woman is not holy; he thought, seeing the disheveled look of the chamber, the empty wine cups and discarded robes. His old nostrils, caught the unmistakable fragrance of Doric-Dar. This is a woman who puts her pleasure before the will of the Gods!  He spoke in a soft voice filled with hidden meaning, “Obec is dead and you have become the Holy Mother of the Madrigal have you not?”

  It was a strange way to start the conversation, it was appropriate for speakers of the Gods, to praise each other for their looks. Then offer prayers for health and a better understanding between them. Forgoing those pleasantries, meant that the wily old priest, was not coming to offer wisdom about the disappearance of the King.

  He is a crafty old Sagar; Egmar thought; I must be wise.

  Egmar moved to the ornate table, she seated herself opposite the High Priest. “Obec’s head no longer sits on her body”, she replied, “and the Gods have seen fit, to make me their voice”. Obec was a foolish old Handmaiden, who did not know the ways of power.

  Ormandis smiled at hearing such direct words from the Nomad priestess; she does not weaken her words; “yes the Gods are all knowing and all powerful”. Raising his wrinkled hand skyward, he said, “all praise to Arm-Ra”. Then he waited, for the Nomad woman to chastise him, for speaking the name of the Great God in the Holy Tent of Isarie. No such words were spoken, this made the old man’s smile broaden; she holds her words, she is careful.

  He watched as Egmars gaze moved to the Book of Isarie, laying on the floor, it seemed to him as if she was reacting to someone who had spoken to her. He saw nothing other than the old book. She is weak of mind; he thought; a frail leg of a false Goddess!

  The old woman’s eyes looked into his. “I have been told that you once had another name.” Egmar said.

  How does she know this? He thought; she may be weak of mind, but she may be a soul seer and know what lies behind the mask; I must be careful. “Does a common name hold weight when you speak for the Gods?” he asked, with a mocking smile.

  “Be careful,” the dark companion said, “he is hiding more than his name.”

  The Holy Mother reached out, to fill the two cups on the table with well-aged Po. She gracefully handed one to Ormandis, “you know as well as I that Isarie and Arm-Ra, are false Gods, as are those who speak for them”.

  It was the first time that the old man’s face, showed any sign of emotion; she speaks heresy, this is someone I can deal with. After taking a long draft of his wine, the Holy Man glanced around the chamber, to make sure that no one could listen. He leaned close to the Outlander, “I knew you when you were just a maiden”, he said softly. “When you became Queen of the Madrigal, I smiled, now you are their Holy Mother, yet you do not understand wisdom.”

  “Then speak to me of wisdom,” Egmar said. She took a sip of her wine. Let him think me weak of mind, I will play the fool for a time.

  “Your King and my Queen, will not return from the Forbidden City. We are both strong, together we are stronger.” I will soon have the power of the Overlords and I will add that to the strength of the Outlanders.

  Egmar appeared to be thinking the offer over, but she was listening to her dark adviser.

  “He will die when the one true God comes”, the black spider said, “ an enemy in your view, is safer then a friend beyond your sight”.

  Knowing that the many-legged herald spoke wisdom, she replied to the crafty Holy Man of the Norgonie, “I will send for more wine, we have much to talk about”.

  The old Callaxion or Ormandis as he was known to them, sat back and smiled at the Holy Mother, “yes, much to talk about” he said; when you mix words and wine wisdom soon vanishes. Vitranius would not drink deep of the well-age Po, he would speak, only when he was sure of his words. I will talk and she will listen and when I am done she will be my servant.

  Egmar sent for more wine and the night passed quickly, what the Gods said to one another we cannot say. When Sunbirth rose, the Holy Mother of the Madrigal and the High Priest of the Norgonie, called for the two tribes to meet soon at the temple of Arm-Ra, there they would speak for the Gods.

  Although Endo swung his digging pick deep into the hardened Eul, his mind was elsewhere, filled with just one thought.

  Freedom.

  It was a word that he had not thought about much, when he was roaming the endless plains of the Outlands, under and open sky. Now his world had shrunk to a dim cave, filled only with pain and suffering.

  We must escape this place; he thought, he no longer saw it, as his life only, now it was shared with the female by his side. I must find a way out for her and my people; with every bite of his digging tool, the fire of escape, burned brighter and brighter.

  Beside him the big Sandjar Mog also dug, he was now a constant companion to Endo, knowing that he was now their Coraw, he vowed to defend his leader at all costs. Mog had turned out to be a better student than first thought. He now understood many words of the Outlanders language, he had a good grasp of basic logical thinking. If all else failed, his great strength would help persuade other Sandjar, to follow Endo.

  Endo and the rest of the Sandjar slaves, were now digging in a section of the great cave, where a fresh layer of hard Eul, had just been uncovered. It promised to be one of the best resources of the burning rock. The Norgonie would have plenty of fuel for their furnaces and pumps. It would come at a great price, Gorn is a harsh world, whether it is in the sunlight or in the dark bowels of the earth.

  Rawna looked up at her mate, with hope in her large eyes. During the days and nights, they had been together, she had seen that there could be some kindness in her harsh world. Perhaps there was a future that was worth living? She filled her basket with the black rock, emptying it into one of the many iron wagons that stood waiting to be filled. Beside the cart, stood a tall Norgonie guard who took great delight in torturing the Scavengers at any opportunity. As the young female began
to empty her heavy basket, he suddenly struck her with his whip.

  “Hurry up there, you vermin!” he called out, the bite of the whip, brought a cry from the helpless slave.

  When he saw Rawna, being hurt by the Forest-dweller, it was too much for Endo to hold back. He turned and was about to leap the few meters, between him and the guard, when his arm was taken by Mog.

  “Death”, the big Scavenger said softly.

  Looking at him, Endo understood what he was trying to say; attacking the guard would bring instant death, not only to me also to Rawna. Heeding his advice, he cooled his blood and watched as his mate came back to his side. He could see the red welt on her back, where the ragged garment did not cover, it made pain in his heart. “Are you alright?” he whispered, so that the guard could not hear.

  The female nodded her head, “no pain”, she said, then went back to filling her small basket.

  Endo had no other choice, so he also returned to his endless work, he took out his anger on the hard rock, swinging his tool with all his might, it dug deep into the dark earth. When he pulled it free, he looked down to see many Rock-worms swarming out of the broken Eul. Endo knew that the bite of a Rockworm was very painful, their venom, was used by Nomad warriors, to coat their war-axes when going against a hated enemy. Slowly he moved back, as the worms scurried away.

  Suddenly, the ground, around him began to shake, fragments of earth tumbled to the cave floor, from overhead. Rawna garbed her mate by his arm, frantically pulling him away, all the while she called out to him.

  “Gorno!, Gorno!” in a frantic voice.

  At the same time, Mog took up the cry, “Gorno!” he screamed, hearing his words, the other Sandjar hurried away as fast as they could.

  Endo did not understand what was happening, when he saw the guards also beginning to run, he knew that something bad, was about to happen. The shaking grew more intense, like a Land quake in the Outlands, as the earth near him fell away, he saw that it was not the rumbling of the Earth Gods but the anger of a beast.

  Breaking through the black Eul, burst a creature that few had ever seen. It resembled a Rockworm in size but it was a giant. It had a head as big as a Trofar's, with two great pincers-like jaws, jutting out from a thickly armored head. Below those cutting jaws, was a gaping mouth, filled with rows of dagger like teeth. Its long greenish body, was covered in thick articulated plating, only its belly seemed to be without armor. It had no eyes, it moved with the aid of dozens of spider-like legs, the width of a man’s hand. It emitted a hissing sound, as it moved, like a ground viper of the woods.

  It was only Rawna's quick thinking and her strong arms that saved her mate's life. She pulled him away, just as the monster freed itself from the rock. it began to attack those who had awoken it from its slumber. The Gorno, as it was called, quickly seized a helpless Sandjar in its massive jaws, in an instant, its powerful bite, cut him in two. It cast the dead Scavenger aside and looked for another intruder to kill.

  As Endo stood frozen with fear, Mog jumped between him and the oncoming terror. Lifting his digging pick, he brought it down with all his might, driving into the thick head of the underground beast. The Gorno made a high pitched wail but did not die. Shaking its huge head, it dislodged the digging tool, then continued on its path of destruction. Being blind, it could not see its prey, relying on sound to guide it. Rawna pulled Endo behind a large rock, she held her clawed-fingers to her lips, telling her mate to hold his words. The beast moved past them, to their surprise, Mog had also found safety, he rose from the ground, covered in Eul dust.

  The cave filled with the shouts and screams of Sandjar, as they tried to find safety. Even the vicious Drogs, began to yelp, pulling on their leashes in an effort to run away.

  The Gorno quickly killed two more Sandjar, leaving their mutilated bodies, laying on the ground, as it rampaged blindly through the cave. Seeing that it would kill many more, Endo picked up his digging tool and raced after the beast. For a moment, Mog did not move, but seeing his Coraw racing to attack, filled his heart with courage, he took up a sharp digging tool and ran after his Leader.

  Endo did not know, what he was going to do, but he could not sit by and watch, as the savage creature decimated his people. When the beast was about to take an old female into its jaws, he shouted out a curse, hearing the sound, the monster turned to him, rather than the frail old female.

  The young Scavenger, swung with all his might, striking the creature hard on its head, being heavily armored, it did little damage. He had to move quickly now, before he was crushed to death by the massive snapping jaws. A moment or two later, Mog was at his side, this time the Big Sandjar did not strike at the head, instead he hit one of its many legs. When the cutting tool found its mark, the leg of the creature was cut off, flying through the air. This gave Endo a way to fight the beast, seeing an opportunity, he swung his digging tool, managing to cut off another of the beast's legs. The killing spree of the rampaging Gorno, was not slowed down, the massive creature had legs to spare.

  Endo's heart began to sink, he knew that he and Mog would never be able to stop the creature. The Norgonie guards would rather loose many Sandjar than, one of them. Then a strange thing happened, first one, then another, and yet another of the slaves, forgot their fear, to come to the aid of their Leader. They picked up the digging tools, from where they had dropped them on the ground, in their haste to escape. Now, holding them tightly, they cried out and ran to Endo’s side. The beast killed one of them, as he drew too close to the snapping jaws, the others began to attack the legs of the giant worm. One by one, they cut them off, until the beast's movements began to slow and its hissing grew louder.

  “FIGHT!” Endo called out to them, as he led his people forward, hearing his voice the Sandjar also cried out, “fight, fight, fight”, over and over again.

  Very soon the last legs were gone, the creature rolled over on its side, exposing its soft underbelly. Seeing their chance, the scavengers struck at the beast over and over, cutting deep into its belly, covering them all with gore. At last the beast let out one, long high-pitched wail, it shuddered violently then lay still.

  Endo watched the dead worm for a moment more, holding his weapon at the ready, in case it should return from the dead. He could see that it was finished. he turned to his brethren. Covered in the lifeblood of the beast, he held his digging tool over his head in triumph, like he had seen so many Nomads do.

  “Victory!” he called out, even though they did not understand his words, the people of the darkness also called out, “victory” again and again.

  Endo knew that they were still slaves, soon the Norgonie would return in great numbers too, once more to dominate them. He also knew that a spark had been lit in the hearts and minds of his people, someday that spark would ignite a fire that would set them free.

  Osh lay on the bed in his prison chamber, although he did not move, he was not dead. Linking his mind with the God Machine, had proven to be far too much, even for his superior mind. Now he floated in that intangible world between life and death, like a leaf in the wind, he could be blown either way.

  It was then he heard a voice.

  “Your time will come”, it said, hearing those words in the darkness, made the old man speak in his mind.

  “Are you the guardian below?” he asked.

  “Your time will come”, the voice said again, “and you will see the light”

  Hearing those words, the Callaxion understood that his life would soon be ending. He had mind-linked with many informational references dealing with death and the Afterlife. Although their interpretation, differed greatly, on what happens after you die, they all mentioned a bright white light, calling to you, when you enter it, your mind becomes one with all things.

  A mind-lock with the infinite? The Callaxion thought; now that would be interesting.

  Once more he drifted off into a quiet world and slept.