Chapter 9: The Galds
The path was marked with ancient Halstarion relics stuck in the ground or leaning against trees, placed to look like humanoids, animals, or spirit creatures. Wires had been strung into hair, pipes formed arms and legs, drums were bloated bellies, and anything black or shiny formed eyes.
They were soon met in the trail by Gald children who materialized from the shadowy woods, their black eyes shining with excitement and curiosity. They leapt around and waved sticks over Kelden's face, their thin bodies looking like spindly insects.
Dameon smiled down at Kelden reassuringly, but couldn't hide the uncertainty in his eyes. Dameon was taking a huge gamble, and Kelden couldn't begin to fathom the mad schemes that were running through his mind. Kelden was being bounced along by a smiling lunatic right into the mouth of doom.
One of the children got too hyper and struck Kelden in the face with his stick. The Gald warrior grabbed him and spanked him before tossing him down. The unfortunate lad ran off down the trail crying and holding his backside, while the other children laughed at him. The stick had left bark fragments in Kelden's eye. The eye twitched and watered miserably as he was carried along.
Kelden caught occasional glimpses of wooden huts as Dameon shifted him around. The former seer was getting tired, his breathing labored. Finally he laid Kelden on the ground and stood panting. "I'm too fat for this," he explained, patting his belly.
The Gald warrior grinned and nodded, giving Dameon's gut a poke. Then he seized Kelden, throwing him over his shoulder. Kelden gagged on the warrior's strange, sour stench, wondering why heaven and earth had turned against him.
They resumed walking again. The Gald began torturing Kelden in sneaky ways. A tug of hair here, a pinch there--mean little attacks the savage undoubtedly found quite humorous.
Like all Gald villages, this one was built in the shape of a spider web, the crisscrossing trails forming the strands, all leading to a round clearing at the center of town--nicknamed the Hub by humans--where everything important took place. Huts were all of the same shape and size, and all were spaced a perfect distance from each other. The Galds didn't believe in expressing individuality, expect for their shaman--the village leader who could be male or female. Because they were just as strong and athletic as the men, women were also warriors, and duties such as cooking and cleaning were shared by all. Unless a female was pregnant, she was expected to hunt and fight alongside the males. The sexes were considered completely equal in all ways.
The Galds gave great reverence to pain and suffering in the name of their gods. Their gruesome artwork was stitched into their quilts and painted on the walls of their huts. Human heads hung throughout the village from tree limbs and poles. Dried skin was tacked to huts. Skulls were placed atop the metal totems to represent sacrifices. And mounds of human bones erected about the village had been made into lairs for poisonous snakes the Galds used in rituals.
They were met by more warriors carrying torches. Some were women, but their body paint and lean forms made them hard to distinguish from the men unless one looked closely. The warriors hummed excitedly to each other and shook spears and clubs toward the heavens.
At the town's Hub, a torch-lit clearing, Kelden was laid on a bed of metal springs. Towering over him was the village god--an enormous piece of technology so ugly and bizarre Kelden was sickened by the sight of it. It was shiny, without a trace of rust, and shaped like an egg; as tall and wide as a bushy pine tree. Part of the outer shell was broken, revealing a repulsive honeycomb of greenish compartments that looked fleshy and alive, integrated with metal parts and transparent cables that shimmered with tiny balls of light that shot through them endlessly. The object made a low humming noise that sounded oddly like the way the Galds spoke. A circle of red lights just below the ruptured area blinked in a steady rhythm.
After speaking to Dameon, the village shaman leaned over Kelden, his lips curled back in an unreadable expression. He was easily the most repulsive Gald Kelden had ever seen. One of his eyes was ruptured and leaking fluid, wounded in a way that obviously never healed. Half of his face had been ripped away by something, leaving a mass of jagged scars, and a piece of shiny metal protruded from his neck. He had a big belly--an extreme rarity for a Gald--covered in wrinkles, and more terrible scars covered his torso. Overall, he looked like some sort of ogre that had been through a hundred battles. His breath smelled like a blend of heavy, nauseating spices, and he was slowly chewing on something--perhaps to release the strange odor.
The shaman carried a metal staff with a red light at the top that blinked with the same rhythm as the circle of lights on the metal god. He waved this staff over Kelden and hummed softly. His two priests, who also had red-stained faces and carried rods with human skulls on them, bowed their heads and seemed to be praying.
When the shaman had finished his ritual, he waved his staff about and spoke very loudly to Dameon. Dameon also spoke forcefully, his eyes wild and fierce. This apparent argument went on for sometime. The melodic humming of their voices seemed to want to put Kelden to sleep, and he had to fight to remain conscious. Finally the shaman and his priests walked away and began their own heated exchange.
"I've won the argument with the shaman," Dameon whispered to Kelden. "He has agreed to heal you. But his priests are dissenting, and he must get one of them to agree or he'll be overruled. Hang in there, boy." Dameon's face was grim, and he clutched Kelden's shoulder in a death grip.
Finally one of the priests lowered his staff and bowed. The shaman spoke to Dameon. "It's settled," Dameon told Kelden. "Because they owed me favors, they've decided to heal you in order to repay their debts."
Kelden could hardly believe his ears. He'd expected immediate torture and death. Could he have been wrong about the Galds, and about Dameon as well?
The healing ritual was a long and painful one. The blood potion of shielding was diminishing quickly, leaving Kelden vulnerable. The shaman repeatedly struck Kelden in the ribs with his staff, hard enough that Kelden feared his bones would break. He kept striking a single spot on the left side of Kelden's rib cage with his staff and humming. The crimson light seemed to warm the flesh deep inside Kelden. Something was being driven from his ribs, a sickening poison that seemed to push into his stomach. He vomited and nearly choked. The shaman rolled him over and, clutching his hair, shook him to clear his breathing passages. Then it was back to striking his ribs.
Later, the shaman poured some vile liquid down Kelden's throat that made him want to vomit again. But the shaman wouldn't allow it, forcing him to swallow it while Kelden gagged in torment. Finally the shaman put his staff against Kelden's foot and sent some sort of electric shock through him again and again. The poison in his stomach boiled and churned, and Kelden got so sick he lost consciousness.
When Kelden awoke, he was lightheaded but felt much better. His stomach seemed soothed, and he found he could move his arms and legs. He still smelled of vomit, and the springs now felt uncomfortable as they pushed into his back, but overall he was greatly improved.
The shaman's work was apparently done, and he stood talking with Dameon. They smiled and laughed as they spoke to each other, like old friends. Kelden was dumbfounded. Weren't these the same Galds who killed and tortured anyone for their pagan gods? Weren't they always scheming and evil?
Overcome with relief, Kelden relaxed on the springs. He felt that everything was going to be all right, at least for now. The Galds would let them leave, and he would have a chance to get to Frindagan and rid himself of Credesar. For the time being, he just wanted to sink into a numb and pleasant sleep.
But moments later a Gald warrior came rushing into the village, waving his spear excitedly. He knelt before the shaman and hummed away. Then the shaman, his priests, and Dameon took to arguing again.
With a groan, Kelden managed to sit up. What was this all about? A dreadful feeling settled over him. He wanted to run, but was still too weak.
Finally Dameon
turned to Kelden and spoke, his voice full of bitterness. "Apparently, a blue devil was spotted roaming the forest. The shaman blames us for bringing this evil to his village. He demands a sacrifice as payment. I volunteered, but he refused. He said he wants you, Kelden. Again, I refused. Now he demands that both of us be sacrificed to their god!"
Kelden slumped back down on the springs, the will gone out of him. He wished he'd died while the shaman was trying to heal him. He suspected he was going to wish that much more strongly before this night was through.
The Curse of Credesar, Part 1 Page 21