Nomads The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  Chapter 39.The Marchers of Death

  The Golden Hall of the Goddess is filled and all who feast are one.

  Our battles are over our souls are lost our glory past and done.

  For now we sleep in darkened tombs and listen as demons cry.

  Until the day when we shall wake and warriors race to die.

  Then once again we go to war and Gods will shake with dread.

  Then all shall know to flee the path of the rising of the dead.

  Legend of the Honnargar.

  Arn stood unmoving, as he looked out over the risen army of the dead, in spite of his fear, he knew that it was not chance alone that had brought him to this place.

  Even here in the darkness Isarie watches; he thought, he took a step forward, looking into the grim faces of the ancient warriors. “Na Entaro, I am King!” he shouted.

  The giants of the earth replied “Naro Entaro”.

  Hearing them say, he was their King, Arn called out again, “I am your King, and you will obey me!” Forgetting that they would not understand his words, he was about repeat in the ancient language, when the tall leader called out.

  “King you are”, he replied solemnly.

  For a moment Arn wondered how he knew those words. He could not know, that they were bred to a serve a Leader, their minds could reach out and touch his, he had only to say the words in his mind, they would understand and obey.

  The Outland warrior did not care how they understood, all that mattered now, was finding his lost mate and returning her to his side.

  “I will lead you”, shouted the Nomad, he turned to look into Ishea's eyes, his voice was low, only she could hear. “I do not know how this came to be, but many have more strength than few and they will obey”.

  The Norgonie Queen, did not know how, the dead could rise from their graves either. However they had done so, and they would follow their King. It is the will of Arm-Ra, we cannot go against the Gods; “lead them and I will follow”, she said. Turning to look at her son, she waited for him to speak.

  Ral was shaken at the sight before him, but he did not show it, he straightened up, holding his head high, “I will travel with you...for now”, he said.

  The brave posture of his defiant son, did not fool Arn, he too was also afraid. Being a King, he knew that he must hide his feelings to lead. He turned back to the risen warriors, as he did, he suddenly saw an image flash in his mind. It lasted only for a moment, long enough to know that he was not dead and this was not the Pit of Marloon.

  Andra; he heard his mind say, yes, the woman he had betrayed in Ishea's arms, was still calling him. He closed his eyes, he looked deep into his soul, there he saw his mate, sitting alone in a vast chamber of green crystals.

  He opened his eyes.

  “Take me to the crystal chamber”, he called out, hearing his words the Giants of the Earth obeyed.

  The huge warrior that had confronted Arn, reached out and picked up the Outland King, like a mother would pick up her child. Feeling the iron grip of the armored giant, the Nomad tried to fight back, but he was helpless in the hold of the ancient warrior. The immense soldier, lifted him up upon his back, Arn grabbed the armor plating with his free hand and held tight. He did not let go of his war-ax, gripping it hard should he need it. He watched as Ishea and Ral, were also picked up and placed upon the backs of two other giants. The Norgonie Queen also kept a tight hand on her Kagar, holding it, ready to defend herself. Her son placed his dagger between his teeth, as he was being lifted, he returned it to his fist, as soon as he had a tight grip. When they were secure the risen soldiers began to march.

  They moved over the burning floor, towards a large steel door at the other side of the chambe. When they got there, several of the huge men, reached out ,pushing with all their might against the ancient portal. Arn could see that the massive door, was sealed shut, by a set of large iron latches that would not permit anyone to pass, without a key. This did not stop the army of the dead, the King watched in awe, as the ancient latch began to give way, under the power of the giant warriors. The hot air filled with loud creaking sounds and the rumbling of rusted iron.

  Ishea watched as the walking dead, pushed against the door, she knew, it would have taken more than one Rowor, to open that portal. To her surprise, the hatch gave way, and their path was no longer blocked.

  Ral did not like being carried like a first cycle child, he fought against the warrior on whose back he now clung. He stopped beating his dagger on the thick armor, when he saw the power of the Honnargar.

  With the door opened, the Madrigal King, the Norgonie Queen and the young Prince, left the Pit of Marloon to enter another world.

  Andra held her sleeping child in her arms, she did not know, how long she had been sitting in the crystal chamber. She felt no hunger or thirst. She sat quietly, looking down at the helpless infant, as it lay, content in the blanket of gossamer webbing. She began singing old cradlesongs that her mother used to sing to her.

  Child of mine, dear child of mine, sleep now and dream of me.

  For I will hold you in my heart, like the mountains hold the sea.

  Dream of valleys filled with green and skies that shine of blue.

  For I am here beside you now and will always think of you

  The caretaker spiders, scurried all about her, she did not look upon them with dread, anymore. She understood that they would care for her, and keep her safe from all harm. She looked up at the huge crystals, they seemed to whisper to her, not in words, it was more like the soft wind on her Home-world. It told her not to be afraid, she was safe in her mother’s arms.

  My mother is dead; she thought. The more she looked down at the small baby in her arms, the more she felt her mother’s presence. She must have held me just like this; she heard her mind say; and she must have felt the same feelings, as me.

  She realized how many other females, on countless other worlds, must have done this same thing, millions, billions? How could anyone count them? It was true, through the eons of time and space, caring mothers had performed this ritual. It was something that would never change, it would go on and on for all eternity. She began to rock back and forth once more, singing softly to her strange child.

  Valen continued down the long roots that penetrated ever deeper into the heart of the Forbidden City. Once or twice, he encountered a creature, without a name in the Nomad's language, most of them hurried from his path, they did not attack him. A couple of times, he had to defend himself against a spider that approached him, he used his makeshift weapon to drive it off. He managed to avoid the stinging webbing that the huge insects, used as nests.

  As he moved along, the light grew ever dimmer, cracks in the city walls became fewer, the day was ending too. This did not stop the Caladon warrior, he tore dried tendrils from the massive roots in his pathway. He wrapped dead moss and spider webbing around them, using his fire-striker, he had a torch to light his way. Still it was slow going, he stopped to regain his strength and nibble on half-ripen fruit, hanging in bunches. He stepped down onto a limb, hoping it would support his weight, it suddenly gave way, and he found himself falling headlong into the darkness.

  He managed to hold onto his weapon, but the burning torch was ripped from his grasp. He tumbled end over end, hitting other roots as he fell. His strong body and armor, stopped him being killed outright, with a final bounce he hit a hard surface.

  “Artock!” he called out, it was the traditional curse of a Nomad, he shook his fist, as a sign to the Gods, “I am a warrior of the Outlands, not a Galu of the trees!”

  He lay there for a time gasping in air, and trying to focus his eyes. When at last he could, he saw very little, there was no more light from the outside here, just a dim glow from the surrounding stones. After a time, he sat up and took stock of himself and his surroundings, he was in a chamber of some kind, it was mostly in ruins. The walls, such as they were, had large breaks, and the ceiling that once covered the room had long since collap
sed. He had been lucky, the floor was covered in a thick blanket of dead leaves and moss, it had softened his fall, preventing broken bones.

  After a few moments more, he rose to his feet, he checked himself over and found only a few scratches that would not have hurt a first cycle boy. He picked up the bone weapon that had been torn from his hand, he checked it was still intact.

  Like all Nomads, Valen was familiar with Starfall, so when he saw the glowing moss, covering the stone and walls, he knew, he was deep inside the Pyramid City. The heat hanging in the air, told him, he might soon reach the bottom, and perhaps a way out, that made him content.

  There was one thing he did not like, the awful smell coming from all around him, the odor, was like a battlefield after a victory, or perhaps the marshes of the Yug jungles in the South. Even they did not fill the air with such foul vapors, as those occupying the room. Fighting down the urge to empty his belly, the young warrior began looking for a way down. He searched about for some time, the only way was to continue climbing down the roots, they seemed never ending. With no other alternative he began his descent.

  It had been many ages since the Forbidden City had felt the marching of Honnargar feet. Now its dusky corridors, echoed to warriors, striding like Gods. They surely must have seemed like all powerful beings to anyone who saw them. They moved as one, their minds were linked together, a thought from one, became the thought of many.

  Arn hung tightly to his giant warrior, he was glad he did, many times he caught a glimpse of Wormrow, cowering in the darkness. If not for the risen soldiers, they would have fallen upon them, to feast on their flesh. Now they hurried from the path of the marching dead, any of them unlucky enough to be caught by the giants, were disposed of quickly.

  Ishea was also glad to be carried, it gave her time to rest and think of what had taken place, since the Nomad King had returned. This was not something she often did, she was a creature of action. Relying on her fighting ability to keep herself safe, and her woman’s instincts to know what to do. She also understood that being a woman, often meant letting your heart rule your head, seeing everything through of veil of emotion.

  Arn is willing to sacrifice his life for this woman; she thought; would he do the same for me?

  It was a question she hoped neither of them, would have to answer.

  Ral was uncomfortable being carried about like a frail leg, he wanted to jump from the back of the giant holding him, but he did not want to be trampled by those walking behind. So he let things be, vowing that if anyone spoke of this later, he would cut out their heart.

  The marchers of death, moved ever downward, how they knew which tunnel to take was a mystery. Perhaps they possessed more than a directional sense? Maybe they reached out with their minds, finding which corridor led the way? Something could be guiding them, calling them to the place for which they searched. Whatever drove them, soon they would soon reach their goal.

  Andra looked into the eyes of her foundling child. Although the people of her Home-world, would have been repelled by what they saw, she was not.

  “I will always be with you,” she said softly. Looking into those pale eyes, she thought she heard a voice speaking to her mind.

  I will always be with you; it said.

  Suddenly a sound, caused her to grasped the child close to her heart, “something is coming”, she said. She reached down and took up the dagger, she had taken from Ral. Rising to her feet, holding the weapon in one hand, and the helpless infant in the other, she braced her feet, preparing to defend her offspring with her life. All around her, the spiders began to move away. One by one the Lurkers in the Darkness, abandoned the woman and the child, for whom they had cared. They vanished quickly into the chamber walls. The sound was heard again, it seemed like the pounding of drums. Having forgotten her long years as a soldier, she did not recognize the sound of marching feet. Whatever the danger, the Selcarie mother would not run, she would stand and defend her child from all harm.

  Close to the crystal chamber, the Honnargar encountered a barrier that would have turned back most Nomads and Norgonie. Ahead lay an impassable wall of giant crystals and tangled webbing. It blocked the wide corridor, down which the marchers of death traveled, it did not stop them. They stood for a moment, then those at the head of the column, began to strike at the barrier with hand and weapon. Great chunks of crystalline rock broke apart, falling onto the floor, there to shatter into a million fragments. A great crashing sound, filled the air, as more and more of the transparent rock fragmented. The ancient warriors were unaffected by the spider's webbing, which normally caused great pain and even death to those who touched it. They were immune to its poison.

  Soon all obstacles were destroyed, ahead of them lay only a great iron doorway, upon that gate was an image that the Nomads knew well. It was the figure of a many legged spider, the very same likeness was sewn on the battle flags of the Madrigal.

  The Lurkers in the Darkness; Arn thought the givers of rebirth.

  Ishea also recognized the markings; that place is holy; she heard her mind; say, we should not enter.

  When Ral looked at the door, he only saw the sign of his enemy; whatever lay on the other side should be destroyed.

  Before any of them could say, what was in their heads, the Honnargar began to attack the barrier, like all the others that blocked their way. They tore at its massive hinges, beating upon it, like it was a Nomad's signal drum. They pushed and pulled with all their incredible strength, never stopping, never giving up.

  She is on the other side; Arn thought, it was his mind reaching out now, connecting to his mate. He saw the image of the Off-World woman with his inner eye. He felt that something was wrong, something that he could not explain. All he knew was that he needed to be at her side.

  Arn leaped down to the floor and began striking the ancient metal with his ax, a great shower of sparks flew through the air with each blow. Seeing their leader using his weapon, the giants did the same. The Honnargar who had been carrying the Norgonie Queen and her son, removed their human burden, then joined their comrades in work. Ishea and Ral, moved to one side, watching as Arn and his risen warriors, vented their fury on the barrier. The ding of steel on steel echoed through the Forbidden City, causing its inhabitants to scurry for their hiding places.

  As well as the unholy creatures that called the ancient structure their home, a lone Caladone warrior also heard the beating.

  Valen had been traversing the huge vines for some time now, always moving downwards, now he stopped in his tracks, he listened to the din, echoing through the broken corridors. He knew the sounds of the Outlands, and he could mimic the cries of many of its animals. This was not the voice of a land being, creatures like him made this sound. With no reason other than it would lead him to his kind, he quickened his pace down the twisting roots.

  The Nomad King was a man obsessed, knowing that his mate waited on the other side of the steel barrier, made him cry out in fury. When the locks had been beaten away, he put down his ax and grasped the door with his strong hands, adding his Nomad strength to that of the risen warriors. The heavy muscles on his back and arms, stood out like steel cords, he grunted under the strain. He pushed with such might that it would have toppled a small tree, or broken the neck of a Trofar. All the while his mind called out for his mate.

  I will hold you again; he cried out in silence; I will hold you and never let you go!

  He summoned up the last of his strength, and pushed, with a loud grinding sound, the door gave way.

  The last obstacle between him and his goal, opened. Taking up his weapon, the King of the Madrigal entered the crystal chamber. He stood for a moment, it was a sight, the like of which, he had never seen before. The spell of the splendor, soon vanished, once more he was consumed with finding Moonbud, and the feel of her arms about him once more. Arn moved cautiously forward, he tensed his muscles, ready to defend himself. Ishea was a few steps behind him, and beside her the young Prince. The army of
the dead, followed their leader into the crystalline chamber, waiting for a command from the King.

  The Nomad moved slowly through the labyrinth of glowing crystals. On the other side of a great green tower of shimmering rock, he at last came face to face with the woman who had stolen his heart.

  Andra looked into the face of the intruder, although she had seen those eyes many times, as they lay together in an embrace of love, she did not recognize them. She rose up, holding her child close to her breast, she pointed her dagger at the interlopers, then spoke loud enough for all to hear.

  “Who are you”, she called out, “what are you doing here?”

  Hearing such strange words from his mate, Arn approached her, “do you not know me?” he asked. She does not know my face, she is under a spell. He saw the strange creature the woman held in her arms. “What is that thing?”, he asked, thinking that it must be some kind of parasite that had stolen her mind, he lifted his war-ax. “I am Arn King of the Madrigal and you are my mate”, he said, drawing closer to her. “I will not stand by and see you harmed!” He raised his weapon to strike the creature away from the Off-World woman's body. There was a loud blast of sound that filled the crystal chamber.

  It was not a penetrating wail, like the disrupters of the Nomads, this sound did not hurt the ears or the mind, but its effect was powerful, the interlopers into the room, could no longer move. They stood like statues, Outlander, Norgonie and Honnargar, all were frozen in their tracks, like an unlucky warrior caught in an ice storm. They could still hear and see, but their arms and legs would no longer obey them. The only ones unaffected by the sound, were the mother and child.

  Andra could hear a soft song in her head, it seemed no more dangerous to her than the sweet song of a field bird. When she looked down into the eyes of her offspring, the child smiled at her, it did not show any pain on its snow-white face. Its eyes seemed to glow with a strange light, as she looked deeper into them, she heard a faint voice calling out to her.

  “Do not worry mother”, it said, “I will not harm you”.

  Andra looked up to see that the giant crystals of the chamber, were also glowing with the same strange light, she knew that her child and the towering rocks were connected.

  Arn’s anger, grew more powerful with each moment that he could not move, there was nothing worse for a Nomad than feeling helpless. They were creatures of action, standing rigid in the grip of an enemy that he could not see, his rage knew no bounds. He focused all his considerable mind power on moving his paralyzed limbs, the muscles on his arms and legs, swelled with the incredible effort. Soon sweat began to trickle down his face, and blood began to flow from his lips, as he clinched his teeth in rage. For all his massive strength the power that held him, could not be overcome.

  The Norgonie Queen also struggled mightily, although she was a woman, it did not mean that she was weak. A warrior of the forest people, was powerful no matter their gender. Like her former mate, she could not break free of the invisible bonds either, her green eyes burned with frustrated fury.

  Ral also felt a great anger. Once as a young boy, he had fallen into a tangle of gripper vines, feeling their tendrils squeezing around his body, he vowed, never again to be held in bondage. This time there were no roots to cut with his dagger, and like his father, he could only cry out in his mind.

  The Nomad Kings rage, continued to grow, yet still he could not move. It was not all the same with the Honnargar, they too felt the iron grip of the unseen force, for a time they stood without moving, like their leader. They were mentally linked, together they found a combined strength, so the many became the few, a handful of the ancient warriors were able to break free. They moved slowly towards one of the towering green crystals that shimmered from a power within. All around the huge columns, smaller stalactites vibrated, it was easy to see that the penetrating sound was coming from the crystals. The risen warriors, made their way forward, their movements were jagged, with each step, it seemed that they had to use all their untold strength, just to walk. They did not stop, inch by inch, their armored feet continued to move forward. Their massive steel encased bodies, lurched on and on. When they reached the huge crystal, they lifted their weapons and struck the rock with all their remaining might.

  Arn watched the tower break apart and fall to the floor. It crumbled into millions of fragments, and the wailing sound diminished slightly, he was able to lift his hand. More of the Honnargar, began to move, they too went to the crystal monoliths and struck out at them. One by one, they shattered, as each tumbled, the sound in the chamber lessened. Now the Nomad King could lift his weapon hand, and his legs would obey his mind, slowly he moved forwardn, it still it took all his will.

  Andra watched as the warrior came closer to her and her child, she held out her weapon, preparing to defend herself and her offspring from the danger.

  “Stay away!” she shouted as the chamber reverberated with the sound of crashing rocks. As she was about to plunge her weapon into the heart of the man before her, his hand touched hers. Suddenly her past came flooding back into her mind, in a torrent of images. Her time with the Sandjar, being rescued by the Nomads, the war with the Talsonar, Seeda, Egmar, Osh and Endo. All once more filled her mind, and with those cherished memories, she also knew the child in her arms.

  I am a mother; she thought, she looked at Arn; and this is my mate. She reached out and held the Nomad in her arms.

  They stood there, as the last of the crystal towers fell, they continued to hold each other until all was quiet. The dust settled and the ancient warriors lowered their weapons. Some om them, had been killed by falling rock, their comrades did not weep for them. They lay unheeded under great chunks of green stone.

  Ishea and Ral, had come through unhurt for the most part, they had some cuts from shards of falling rock, but their wounds were minor and would heal very quickly. There was one wound grew more intense, as the Norgonie Queen watched her former mate, and the woman who had taken her place.

  She still holds his heart; she thought; a place that once was mine. She saw the strange thing the Off-World woman held in her arms. Neither she nor the Nomad King, could understand what type of creature it was.

  Is this a demon that the woman has summoned from the pit? She asked her mind; perhaps this woman is a witch and should be killed?

  There was little time for solving this riddle, suddenly the chamber began to shake. At first it seemed like it would pass, but it did not, it quickly became more intense. The rubble-covered floor cracked apart, like a Doff-bird's egg, several of the Honnargar vanished into the earth. From those cracks, a light began to grow, it was not the light from Starfall or torch, it was the luminance that comes from melted rock.

  Eulmar; Arn thought as he released his mate from his arms. Eulmar or lava as it was known to the people of the Outer Rim, was not something that could be fought with strength and steel. The Nomad King, realized that if they did not find a way out, they would all perish in fire and smoke.

  “We must go!” he shouted. The Norgonie Queen and her son also recognised the danger, they began to run for the corridor through which they had entered. Now out of her dream state, Andra held tightly to her child and ran with her mate, in an attempt to save their lives. The shaking grew more violent with each passing moment. The floor began breaking apart, as Eulmar began to spew from the place below. Smoke and heat filled the crystal chamber, everyone knew that the Angel of Death would soon appear. The Honnagar opened a way for their leader and the others, some of them led the way out, others stayed behind to guard their retreat. Those warriors burned in the all-consuming fire that was now chasing them, they did not try to save themselves, perishing where they stood.

  Now it became a race to escape, in front of them lay twisting corridors and tunnels, behind, rolled a fiery death. All around the walls began to buckle and break, ceilings collapsed, many of the ancient warriors were crushed to death, under great blocks of stone and steel. Still they continued onward, if a bol
der blocked their way, the Honnargar would push it aside, making a path for their Narga Entaro. Arn held on tightly to his mate, she in turn held onto her child. The heat and smoke was intense, but for the Nomad's strength, the Selcarie woman, would have fallen. The Nomad King had found his life companion at last, and he would let nothing, harm her now. Shouting words of encouragement they all continued to run.

  As they ran into the large chamber with a massive machine of steel, rising out of the floor, there came a great jolt, and everyone fell to their knees. Andra looked up, to see a huge portion of the ceiling, break apart, it began to fall directly onto her. Arn saw it also, he tried to cover his mate with his body, at the same time, several Honnargar, covered Arn and Andra with their bodies. When the steel and stone reached them, they gave up their lives, protecting their leader.

  Ishea and Ral, were also saved, by luck rather than the efforts of the ancient warriors, when they saw the ceiling collapsing, they ducked under the huge machine. Its thick steel protect them. The Norgonie Queen looked up, she suddenly realized that they had found a way of escape.

  “Climb!” she shouted pointing upwards, Arn looked up, to see a crack above them, it would enable an escape from the molten rock, creeping into the chamber. Nodding his head in approval, and holding his mate close, he went over to where the tower of steel rose upwards, forming an escape. If they were going to live, they would have to hurry, with each passing moment, the Eulmar moved ever closer and the shaking intensified.

  Now all through the Forbidden City, creatures raced, trying to save their lives. The Wormrow, were not intelligent creatures by the standards of the Outer Rim. They still had the instinct of self-preservation, now that instinct took over. They ran about in a frenzy, trampling over the bodies of their own kind, they stampeded in the mad dash for life. Even the guardian spiders, knew enough to scurry into their tunnels deep in the earth. They abandoned the home that had been theirs for so many cycles. Those creatures too scared to move, or lacking the knowledge to escape, died in the burning flames.

  With the helpless child in her arms, it would have been difficult for Andra, to climb up the ladder of steel. She took the webbing that she had been using as blanket, wrapped it around herself and the child, fashioning it into a make shift field pack. Relying on her soldiers training, she began to climb up the towering machine, with Arn close behind. Ral had no trouble surmounting the tangle of twisted metal, as a young boy, he loved to swing through the great trees of Caltarine. He scampered up and up without looking back. Ishea also had no problem, escaping the now burning floors, she looked back only once, to see her former lover, helping the Off-World woman and the demon thing she carried. She found herself wishing that Horcon the God of Destiny, would end the life of the Selcarie female.

  The smoke and heat from below, made the chamber feel like the inside of an Ironworkers furnace. It mixed with the smell of burning flesh and decay. Once more, a great shock wave shook the tower of steel, when it did, several of the ancient warriors fell into the molten rock, they were instantly consumed by the fire. Moombud too, would have fallen to her death, but Arn did not let go of her. Soon they reached the top of the machinery, and the Nomad King and his mate, escaped through the lifesaving crack.

  Still they were not safe, once again there came a tremendous shaking, the floor on which they stood began to crumble. Disparate now, the Nomad searched about for a way to defy death, the passageways were blocked with stone, to large even for the Honnargar to overcome. Looking up, he saw a great tangle of vines and roots, but they were too high to be grasped. Knowing that they had reached their end, Arn held his mate tightly.

  “I will stay with you, through this world, and all the worlds to come”, he said softly, to the woman in his arms.

  Knowing that they could not escape, Andra smiled at him, “I am content”, she said.

  They stood there, waiting for death to take them, they did not fear, for they were together now, and together they would stay.

  Ishea also knew that she would not survive, being a Queen of the Norgonie, she held her head high and grasped her Kagar, Her only regret, was not being able to stand with her former mate, to enter the Afterlife together. Then she smiled, it was a tradition of the Norgonie, to burn their dead, having the Forbidden City as her funeral pyre, seemed a fitting end to her rule.

  “Ragute Ranana Trocoro Arm-Ra”, she said softly. “All glory to Arm-Ra.” She braced her feet and waited for what was to come.

  Ral ground his teeth because he had no enemy to fight, still he made up his mind that when the Eulmar came to consume him, he would not huddle in fear like an old woman. He would race to meet it with his weapon in his hand, and laugh as the flaming death took him.

  The Honnargar did not have any fear, death was a constant companion to them and they cared nothing for the Afterlife. So they stood, surrounding the leader and would do so until the end.

  Heat and smoke billowed into the chamber, as the Eulmar filled the room below. Soon it would bubble up, incinerating everything in its path. Arn and Andra, still held each other tightly, even though the heat and smoke was intensifying. The child did not cry, it lay calmly in its cocoon, like it would have done in the safety of a Nomad's wagon.

  The chamber shook again and the Outlanders knew that all was lost, then they heard a voice crying out above the rumblings.

  “Moric-Kan!” it said.

  The Nomad King and his mate, looked high above them, to see a young warrior, calling out to them once more. “Time to go”, he said.

  Valen had made his way downward through the stone city, following his instincts, hoping that he would find fellow humans. When the shaking started, and the smell of sulfur and ash began to rise up, he knew that he had very little time left. It was only by luck, or maybe the will of Isarie that he was where he was, and able to help those below.

  There was no time to lose, Arn watched as a thick tendril dropped from the floor above. As thick as a man’s wrist, and easy to climb up, away from the rising death. The King and his mate, began to climb up the root, behind them came Ishea and Ral, they had also heard the call of the Nomad. Arn hooked his ax onto his belt, leaving both arms free to help his Selcarie mate. Andra was expert at evading enemy, many times she had escaped death on the battlefield, by climbing to a higher vantage point, from where she could return fire. Climbing upwards, she held tightly to the vine, in a very short time, she reached the top. She grasped the open hand of the young Nomad, who had saved them, as she looked into his handsome face, she suddenly realized, who had rescued them.

  “Valen”, she called out, there was little time for reminiscing, she moved away so that others could climb up. Next came Arn, seeing the face of the Caladone warrior, he smiled and struck the young man on his shoulder. No words were spoken, and they reached out to pull Ishea and Ral from below. With both of them safe, the Outcast warrior watched as dozens of metal giants joined them. For a moment, Valen prepared to defend himself, he raised his crude weapon, but the King held his arm.

  “Friends”, he said.

  For a moment, the young Nomad thought that the heat and smoke had clouded the mind of the Almadran King, seeing that they did not attack him, he decided against starting a fight, he was sure to lose.

  When Arn had made sure that Andra was safe, he turned back to Valen, “is there a way to safety?” he asked.

  The young warrior shook his head, “I came from above”. he said, pointing upwards. With no alternatives, the Nomad King decided to put his faith in Isarie, to go towards the light. So once again they began to climb, it was a race, to see who would die and who would live, the Eulmar from below, continued to rise, and the stone city was once more rocked by quakes. Everyone knew that to stop would bring death, so they summoned up their strength and moved quickly upwards.

  The Forbidden City was dying.

  Great chunks of rock and steel, broke away from its towering walls, they fell, crashing into the swampland. Daggermouths and vile creatures of the nigh
t, were crushed beneath the crumbling stone. A great black plume of smoke, began to rise up ,sending out a signal that the haunted monolith would soon be no more. Not all was death, the will to live, still burned brightly in those who were trapped within.

  Up and up they went, grasping for breath and life, hoping that the Angel of Death would not find them. Andra was almost at the end of her endurance, she began to lose her grip on the vine that held her. Looking down at the child, she found new courage and continued upward. Arn relied on the power of an Outlander to see him through, all the while he stayed close to his mate, in case she needed help. Another violent shock, cascaded through the huge pyramid, when it reached the upper levels, it caused Ral to lose his grip, he began to tumble into the burning depths. Arn saw his son falling, reaching out quickly, he grasped the Norgonie warrior's hand and held it tight. For a moment, they looked into each other’s eyes, then the King pulled with all his might and Ral grabbed onto a twisted root. He did not say anything to the man who had saved him, he turned away and went back up the vine.

  After a time that seemed like an eternity, Andra and the Nomads, reached the upper most levels of the city. Some Honnagar died, when the roots they climbed, broke under their massive weight, many still remained. They waited for their leader to command them.

  The place where they stood, was the nesting homes of the giant Screechers, although many of them had taken flight, to escape the burning death, dozens still remained behind. Why was not clear, one thing was certain, there was nowhere else to go.

  As Arn tried desperately to think of a way out of this lofty prison, a strange thing happened, the Ancient warriors began moving towards the huge flying reptiles. The Nomad King was about to call to them to stop, not sacrifice their lives, in a hopeless battle with the giant scavengers. Before he could, one of the Honnagar, put his hand on the Screecher nearest to him, then climbed onto its back. The great beast gave out with a loud scream, but it did not attack the warrior. Ishea stood wide-eyed as more of the risen dead, mounted the sky flyers. She had heard a legend of the tribe that told of warriors of the heavens, she always thought them a myth. Ral was also amazed, and he envied the iron giants. Before reason could stop him, he moved towards one of the winged reptiles. As he came near, the monster struck out at him with his great jaws, he was almost bitten in two. He realized, as did all the others that only the Giants of the Earth, could mount these beasts.

  Arn shouted a command, “ride with the Honnargar!” Heeding his own words, the King and the Off-Worlder approached one of the great beasts. With the help of its rider, they were pulled up, then held tightly to the scaly back. Ral and Ishea, did the same with other Screechers and their riders, not wanting to end his life in fire, Valen tossed away his weapon and climbed behind one of the iron men.

  Another great quake, shook the stone pyramid and it began to fall. The forbidden city that had stood for eons, rumbled with a sound like a thousand dying Earthshakers. As it did, the Gods of the Sky took to the air and began their escape. They screamed and roared as they twisted through the falling maze of steel and stone, some of them along with their riders, were crushed to death before they could make their way into the sunlight.

  Moonbud held tightly to her child, and the Nomad King's right arm, which surrounded her. His left hand gripped a horn on the Screechers back. The huge warrior riding the flying beast, did not show fear, as he guided the monster through the crumbling labyrinth. Unknown to the Nomad, the ancient Honnagar and the Screechers, had a mind-link that allowed them to fly as one. The mighty city finally fell to the earth, the last of the winged serpents, rose gracefully into the clouded sky, they would never return to their avian home. They could never build their nests in the ruins of that haunted place, they now had a new purpose. On their backs they carried an Outland warrior, a Queen of the Norgonie, her wayward son. They would serve the unstoppable soldiers on their backs, as they had been created to do.

  Osh would have argued that the odds of escaping a catastrophe such as this one, were far beyond a mere chance happening. He would have said that a guiding force must surely have been responsible for so many unlikely circumstances, to fall into place for such an outcome. He would never have convinced those who believed in the power of the Goddess, they would have given thanks to Isarie.

  No believer of the faith or a learned scholar of the Outer Rim, could have foreseen the importance of the Off-World female, and the strange child that she held in her arms.