Nomads The Risen God

by Gary Mark Lee

Chapter 20.

  The Blood of Warriors.

  The blood of a warrior is a gift from the Goddess; it is a debt that must be repaid to her in battle and through The Mouth of Pain.

  The law of the Thungodra.

  Kalgar-Rune watched from the high bluff near the Holy Wagon as the Cronos and the Brila, the great hunter ships of the Akuna passed through the narrow opening to the sea and as they disappeared over the horizon along with the setting suns the Thungodra leader’s head was filled with many thoughts.

  The King goes with the Sincravers when he should be defending his people against the evil that is among us, the Thungodra leaders mind focused on the strange young girl that lived in darkness, darkness is where demons dwell and looking up he saw the night moons beginning their journey across the heavens and knew that soon the evil one would be emerging. Kalgar moved away from the steep cliff and began walking to the circle of tents that surrounded the huge Karack that was the home of Egmar and her Handmaidens.

  The Thungodra had made their camp away from the Akuna for they dare not risk their souls being contaminated with the sins of the Wave-riders, they had taken a vow to remain pure of flesh and put all their strength into battle tactics and conditioning their minds and bodies to defend the Holy Mother and the laws set down in the Book of Isarie for in those pages was the word of the Goddess and her wishes must be obeyed. Most of the warriors were young for many of the older ones had been killed in the battles with the Talsonar and Kalgar-Rune was chosen from those that remained as their leader for he was the strongest and his victories were many.

  In the long cycles of their never-ending journeys the Nomads followed a strict set of traditions, they must be in a certain place at a precise time to perform an ancient ritual and to avoid contact with a rival tribe, these hardened laws had been set down ages ago and had guided the actions of the Outlanders for as long as anyone could remember and now the time had come to execute the ceremony of The Mouth of Pain.

  The warriors of the Goddess had been preparing all day for the events that were to come, they had washed themselves in clear water from a spring blessed by the Holy Mother and braided their long hair in the way set down by their laws, they had eaten and drank nothing for it was said that some demons entered the body through the mouth on ritual days and so they uttered prayers to ward them away. They wore their traditional dark armor with overlapping plating that gave them the look of great sand beetles known for their toughness and ferocity and on their heads sat the tall horned helmets that struck fear into the hearts of their enemies, but they left their right arms bear rather than covering them with the usual Itarian steel.

  There were both men and women among the holy warriors for it was well known that a female could fight as well as a male and those that disputed that fact soon regretted their words when they found themselves facing one of that gender, and the history of the Thungodra was filled with countless tales of strong women who had defeated many enemies and found a place of honor in the Golden Hall of Isarie. As Kalgar-Rune walked past the rows of holy warriors they bowed their heads and gave the secret sign of the Thungodra with their hand, what manner of movement they presented I will not speak of here for it is theirs and theirs alone.

  They are strong Kalgar thought; they will defend the laws of Isarie when called upon.

  The powerful Leader continued passed the armored guardians and into an open place that had been prepared for the ritual to come, the ground was flat and all rock and vegetation had been removed and the earth consecrated with holy water, silver torches fashioned in the shape of great Sand Dragons circled the outer edge, their warm light came from crushed Eul rock placed in the heads of the metal creatures giving them the look of mythical monsters. At the center of the ring stood a configuration that could only be viewed by the trusted sentinels, in appearance it resembled a Caracana or Chimera, a beast of ancient lore for it had the body of a Sagar Cat but with the head of a Whiptail, its long body was made from bone inlayed with gold and silver as was the ferocious looking head, the long tail ended in rows of sharp spikes that continued up the curved spine.

  Near the sacred object sat a silver bowl upon a pile of human skulls, it measured a forearms length across and was filled with red blood, that blood had come from the Thungodra who were about to take part in the ritual to come, they had cut their arms and given enough of their life fluid to fill the vessel and satisfy their oaths.

 

  The somber Leader moved around the ritual creature satisfying himself that all was in its proper place then he looked up at the night sky and made sure that the orbiting moons were in their appropriate positions for only then could he continue, all is as it should be he thought then he moved forward and lifted his great war ax, “I hold the judgment of Isarie in my hand, with it we destroy those who make themselves our enemies, with this weapon we are invincible, but it is only wood and steel, real power comes from within, it is a gift from Isarie for the Goddess is our strength!”

  “Togasttra emo entralac, give us your strength” repeated the Thungodra warriors.

  Kalgar lowered his ax but not his voice, “Isarie looks to us to protect her servant from those that would bring her harm, but we must be strong for that task and show her that we do not fear pain!”

  “Karus morto metak, we do not fear pain” spoke the warriors.

  “We have shown our strength in battle for our victories are many and now the time has come for the mouth of pain!”

  “Che megarto ra metak, we show no fear!” called out the guardians, then they marched forward one by one and faced the great skull of the bone beast, at the same time a group of four warriors both male and female moved into the circle carrying an ornate ivory box set upon a litter made from the leg bones of giant Doff-birds. The box itself was finely made with carved sides and a lid secured with hinges of beaten gold, it bore mystical markings and the white ivory had discolored over the centuries but the figures cut into the sides were still clearly seen showing warriors in battle.

  The armor and helmets of the carriers were different than those of the others for they were smeared with blood and their faces were hidden behind Rimar hide masks that gave them the look of demons, they moved with measured steps around the circle so that all could see the ancient container and hear the sounds from within, that noise was one that all Nomads knew well for they were taught at an early age to be on guard when that chattering song filled the air, when it was certain that they had accomplished their task they sat the litter and box down near their Leader and waited.

  Kalgar-Rune moved to the elaborately carved strongbox and placing his Tooth on the ground he lifted the ornate container high in the air, “Honor is nothing without pain!”

  “Karus morto metak, we do not fear pain” repeated the warriors.

  The Thungodra leader faced the skull of the Whiptail and nodding his head two of the blood smeared warriors moved forward and placing their hands on the skull they lifted the top jaw up exposing the long dead creatures overlapping teeth, Kalgar then opened the ivory container and began pouring its contents into the gaping mouth.

  Rockworms.

  The wiggling insects snapped their powerful jaws together signaling to any intruder that they were ready to inject them with potent venom that would bring excruciating pain, when the box was emptied Kalgar nodded his head again and the two attendants lowered the jaw trapping the vile creatures inside were they continued to hiss and snap.

  “Pain is nothing for we are the chosen of the chosen”, Kalgar placed the box on the ground and took up his great ax, “Come forward and show the Goddess that you are not afraid”.

  After a moment or two a young warrior moved forward, his name was Barcar and he had shown great courage in the past, he moved to the huge skull, put out his right arm and spoke in a clear voice, “Karus morto metak, we do not fear pain”.

  Once again, the two warriors lifted the skull of the dead Whiptail causing the Rockworms to sing their song of warning and as they d
id Kalgar moved behind the young fighter and lifted his weapon in the air, without hesitation Barcar placed his arm into the mouth and into the mass of hissing angry creatures. At once the vile beasts sunk their dripping jaws into the unguarded flesh of the young Thungodra but he did not cry out and his faced showed no sign of discomfort and this was good for if he had Kalgar-Rune would have cut off his head for it was the way of their order.

  “Karus morto metak, we do not fear pain” spoke Barcar as he withdrew his arm then turning his eyes met those of his Leader and he spoke in a low voice, “Am I worthy of the Goddess love?”

  “You are worthy” Kalgar replied as he lowered his ax and then he called out again, “Come forward and show the Goddess that you are not afraid”

  .

  And so, they drew forward one by one, put their arms into the skull and those that showed no pain had their armor smeared with blood and those that failed had their blood spilled and their heads added to the number beneath the silver bowl.

  Romar was amazed how quickly his arm and leg had healed and he longed to know more about the restorative powers that Kela possessed but he still considered her an enemy and said nothing has he stood up and began walking around their campsite. Delgar and Jumo followed his every movement and it was clear that they would have loved nothing better than to sink their strong teeth into the flesh of the outsider.

  “How do you feel?” The Handmaiden asked seeing the progress of the handsome young man as she handed two large cuts of Rimar meat to the big woodland beasts who began to devoir the succulent offerings. The former Youngonrie Captain said nothing until he returned to where he had begun and sat down on a water barrel near the ever burning Washa, “I’m better” he said curtly.

  Anais had stayed close to the young soldier over the past few days listening to his words and reaching out with his mind in an effort to know more about the man and the world he came from, at times it had been frustrating for his thoughts were sometimes broken by strange images he could not understand and his body felt like it was being pushed and pulled like two Trofars hitched to opposite ends of a Karack. In the past The Blind Prince would have never troubled his mind with the Off-worlder he would have simply had him killed for being an enemy of the tribe and invading the sacred land around the Eye of Isarie but now things were different, he was no longer the King of the Almadra or any other strong clan for that matter, he was the path-guider of a band of outcasts and Sandjars and shared his power with a Handmaiden who was no longer recognized by any Holy Mother, now as he sat calmly with eyes closed he decided the time was right for blunt words.

  “Go now” he said to the healed warrior.

  Kela was somewhat taken aback by the sudden demands of her mate and she was about to speak up when she looked into his eyes and saw that they did not hold hatred, He speaks words that do not come from his heart, he is laying a trail that he wishes the man to follow.

  And indeed, the Captain did follow, “You wish me to leave?” Romar asked.

  “It is not my wish but yours, did you not say that you would go as soon as you were well enough to travel?” replied Anais.

  Thinking back over his days with the Nomads he remembered saying no such words, “I said nothing of leaving”.

  “Then you will be staying?” the Blind Prince asked.

  Romar knew this word game was meant to confuse him, he would make a good interrogator but the Captain had undergone questioning in his soldiers training and spent many hours on a pain table, “I will go when the time is right” he said with an air of superiority.

  Anais turned his head from side to side as if his blind eyes were taking in the sky and land, “The air is calm and Karus and Micos have not yet traveled half way in their day journey, you could cover much land by Sunfall”.

  Kela understood what her mate was trying to do and added her own words to the conversation, “I will pack you a strong knife, Kasha bread and dried Rimar, water will be plentiful but you must remember to stay away from Whiptails for they follow the summer herds this time of the cycle, and Doff-birds will be a problem as well as Sagar cats but I am sure you are familiar with how to avoid them all” and she began gathering up supplies from a carry box near her.

  As the Handmaiden began to fill a survival pack with provisions Romar stood up quickly, “I don’t need your rations or your weapons; I can endure on my own”.

  “Then you are strong?” asked Anais.

  “Strong enough to defend myself” replied the young man quickly.

  Anais had lead the man to a place he wanted him and now he would aim his words to hit their mark, “You say you are strong” he said with a smile, “Are you strong enough to say…fight this female” and he pointed to Kela standing near him.

  This brought a laugh from the lips of the Youngonrie, “Of course, she is no match for me”.

  Kela heard his laughter and saw the look of distain on his face, “Are you well trained in blade dancing?” she asked and quickly withdrew the small dagger from under her robe, it was by no means a weapon that would bring down an armored foe but it was well honed and deadly at close range.

  Again the young man laughed, “Fighting a female is beneath a Captain of the Mac-Mar Alliance” his words were heavy with distain; she is no match for me.

  Anais stood up “Perhaps you are right, she is just a female, and maybe you think you can defeat me?” Romar could not believe what he was hearing, a blind man and a female wish to fight me? it was beyond his comprehension, “You’re both in need of brain repair if you think you can defeat me, I was trained by the best in close combat and my father is…..” he stopped himself before he could reveal more to his enemy, if they wish to fight then I will teach them a lesson, “Very well I will show you how strong we are, first I will need a weapon” and he stood waiting for he was used to others following his orders.

  Kela went to the wagon and after a short search she pulled out a heavy field knife, it was half the length of a man’s arm and used for cutting Kasha wheat, the handle was made of hard Balbar wood and the blade was Itarian steel, “Will this be enough for you?” the Handmaiden asked smiling. Romar nodded his head (yes) and Kela placed the weapon in his hand, when she did this the two Drogs began to growl and paw the hard ground, “Will I have to fight them too?” the young man asked mockingly as he hefted the long knife in his hand. Anais moved to the four-legged guardians and began rubbing their huge heads, “I will keep them calm while you teach my mate for I can see that she is eager to learn”. Romar watched as Kela began removing her robe revealing a strong well-formed body and if it were not for the scars on her face the Captain would have found her very attractive, “So you wish me to fight the female first?”

  The Blind Prince shrugged his shoulders, “Your wounds are recently healed and I do not wish to tax them further, she will be enough to test your wisdom”.

  Kela removed the gold stays from her long hair allowing it to flow freely in the light wind and she also took the sandals from her feet leaving her naked, but having been a Handmaiden of Isarie she was used to being unclothed for many of the sacred rituals were performed in the nude.

  Romar took in the supple curves of her body, enemy or not she would be a prize for anyone, but he dared not show his weakness before going into battle “If you think you can distract me with your body it won’t work”.

  The Handmaiden ignored his words for she was preparing her mind for the confrontation ahead, she closed her eyes and held her small knife with both hands and touched it to her forehead, a weapon is useless if it does not find a place to bite, I will be like the wind. She then opened her eyes and moved to an uncluttered place where she could move freely and the ground was even and without stones, she braced her feet and lifted the sharp blade, “I am ready” she said.

  The Captain did not grip the handle of his weapon tightly for he had been trained to use a light grasp so that his knife would be an extension of his arm rather than a tool in his fingers; he moved slowly sizing up his foe
and acknowledging the points where he could find weakness. He did not wish to kill the girl only disarm her and show his superiority.

  Kela moved like a young she cat placing her feet firmly on the ground with each step and transferring her weight easily, she made no sound and kept her eyes focused on the man before her, he is over confident and that will be his undoing.

  Anais stood beside the two Drogs and continued to speak to them in a soft voice in an effort to keep them from attacking, “Do not fear, you will be fed and no harm will come to your mistress”. Romar heard the confidence in the blind man’s voice and decided it was time to show his prowess, with a quick move he lunged forward aiming at the right hand of the girl so as to dislodge her weapon and end the fight quickly but he found only empty space as his prey darted out of his path and as she turned she inflicted a small cut across his upper right arm, it was barely a hit but blood did show.

  The wounded Youngonrie looked down at the red stain on his survival uniform, “A lucky scratch” he said with a smile and began to circle once more, a small misstep that’s all it was, he thought, she will be mine soon. His movements were more cautious this time making sure he made no mistakes.

  Kela also did not want to gravely wound her challenger she only wished to show him that the females of the Outlands can stand their ground with any male and the fact that she was the daughter of a great warrior of the Almadra whose name is proudly written in the Book of Isarie and was trained by him in the supple art of blade dancing before she became a Handmaiden only added to her abilities. I have pricked his courage she thought, but he will need more than a tickle, she began moving back the way she came seeing that the man favored his left side then it was her time to strike, she moved like lightening leaping high into the air as Romars long knife tried to block her blade but once again he was to slow and this time his left arm was cut lightly.

  Romar’s face did not smile and his eyes began to burn with resentment, she thinks she will defeat me, she is wrong! And he lashed out hard and if his weapon had found flesh it would have caused great harm, but like his other attempts it failed and this time his anger found words, “Stand and face me like a man not a pond-jumper!”

  But Kela only smiled at him, “I am not a man as you so clearly said and if you cannot jump as high as I it is the fault of your body and not mine”.

  Again, and again he struck but Kela moved like a leaf in a windstorm, leaping, spinning, moving like a temple dancer and with each movement another small cut was inflicted causing the

  Youngonie Commander to become more and more agitated.

  She is a woman he thought she is weak and I won’t let her defeat me!

  But his mind-boost was just empty words for his weapon never found its mark and his training was useless against the phantom that danced before him. At last the Captain ground his teeth in rage and with sweat dripping from his eyes he swung for the woman knowing that his attack would surely kill her, but like before his blade found nothing and before he could balance himself he was swept off his feet by the swinging leg of the Handmaiden and in an instant her strong legs were around his waist pinning his arms to his side and he felt her knife at his throat.

  “You have much to learn about us and our ways” Kela whispered in his ear, “I will teach you if you wish to learn” then she slowly removed her knife, stood up then put out her hand to the defeated young man, “There is no shame in admitting defeat, it is the beginning of wisdom”.

  Romar finally understood that it was useless to continue the fight, he was bleeding from numerous small wounds and he was very thirsty so grasping the hand of the naked woman he stood up on shaky legs, “You are stronger then you look” he said, “Perhaps there are things that you know that I don’t”.

  Anais was sure of the outcome of the battle but he had to admit that his heart was calmer now and he did not breathe as deep, “Now if that is settled perhaps we can have a cup of Po and talk”.

  Ivar-Anoon was feeling much better now that the green crystal was flowing through his infected body, at first he was skeptical that such a tiny bit of emerald salt could cure his sores and pain in such a short time but as he stood looking at his healing arms and the energy that was returning to him he had to admit that he had been wrong, of course he kept this realization to himself for a leader must never acknowledge errors in his judgment. Now as he sat in the small command tent he looked across the charting table at the strange individual that had saved his life.

  “You have kept your word” Ivar said to the creature known as Servant, And I shall keep mine, I will hunt down the enemy and kill him then this world will be…ours”. The Commander was about to say the word “mine” but he stopped himself for he knew that the Thing before him would not have agreed with his terminology.

  Servant knew all too well what the human wanted to say but he never questioned him for it mattered very little, “Your soldiers will be healthy very soon but they are not enough to overcome the Outlanders for that you will need much more men and supplies”.

  “I have thousands of troopers in orbit waiting my orders but I can’t bring them down until it is safe”.

  The Ergan-Mar leaned forward a bit in his chair and spoke in a voice that could be heard only by the General and not the ever-present armed guards that were positioned about the tent, “Soon there will be a break in the protective shielding around this world, you will have sufficient time to send down a small contingent of your warriors”.

  How can he know this? Ivar thought, he must have access to a field-ranger but looking at him he could see no communication device or any other sign of advanced mechanisms but if there was the slightest chance of securing more men he would take it, “When?” it was a short and precise question asked in the same low voice as his opponent.

  Servant moved back in his seat and appeared to close his eyes, “You will have control in precisely nine point one cragars in a collected scale that will coincide with aliments of the orbiting moons”.

  Ivar was a warrior and had very little knowledge of gravitational fields and their effects on moon trajectories; he had technicians to do that thinking, “You can relay that intel to my staff when the time comes”.

  “Very well” Servant said, “They will not be able to fire their energy weapons for some time, but primitive projectile arms will be functioning”.

  Ivar had many questions that he still wished answered and now that he was feeling better he saw no need to wait, “If your master is so strong why does he hide in the darkness?”

  This question brought a smile to the Earth-Eaters face, “Is it wrong to hold secrets, do you not have many that you keep within you, we are both retainers in our way, you serve a master whose home is on a far-off world, is Vocarus-Prodonus hiding or is he simply waiting for his orders to be followed?”

  How does he know about the Chairman of the Alliance? Hearing the name of his superior made the hairs on the back of Ivars neck stand up but he managed to keep his face calm, “I applaud your skill in gathering information.”

  “Thank you” Servant replied, “but I have to correct you in your use of the word “He”, my Master is not confined to a simple definition of genders, suffice to say that male and female are just random accidents of an unruly universe but if that name has meaning to you then my Master will not object”.

  The General was about to ask further questions when an officer entered the tent, saluted and spoke, “Report as you commanded”.

  “What is it?” Ivar was very much annoyed by this sudden intrusion.

  The officer moved a few steps forward and saluted again, “Your command was to inform you when the test subjects were in their last stages”.

  Ivar made a gesture with his hand and the officer left the room, then he stood up, “Will you join me?” he asked looking at the creature across the table.

  Servant rose to his feet signaling his willingness to accompany the human and after a few moments they were outside the command tent and heading for the m
ake shift medical center.

  “Will there be any danger?” the General asked.

  “No” replied the Ergan-Mar, “You have consumed the green crystal and are therefore immune to the plague, at least for a while”.

  They continued across the barren ground passed recovering soldiers who snapped to attention as their Commander came into view, this lasted until they came to a structure that was attached to the fallen warship, it was covered in a clear canopy that sealed in the air and kept the interior as free of contaminates as possible. At the door stood to guards who saluted and opened the entryway for the human and his strange looking companion.

  Upon entering the chamber, the General was immediately struck with a wave of nausea for the air was very foul and carried the heavy scent of death and decay, but the old warrior had smelled that air many times and although he had to fight down the urge to empty his stomach he did not turn back. In front of him stood several tables upon which lay soldiers of his own battalion, they were from different species, Bolec’s, Youngonrie, Salocans, Hidraga, Upars and more and although they had little in common in civilizations they shared one thing now, they were dying.

  Their bodies were covered in open sores that oozed with all manner of liquids, their limbs were twisted with spasms and they had to be restrained by heavy bindings, some of them screamed in pain while others whimpered and drooled, around them stood what was left of the medical teams but they did nothing to ease their pain for they had been given strict orders not to administer the green crystal. Ivar moved slowly among the dying looking into their pain ridden faces and checking to see who still had life in them and those that were beyond suffering, and then he turned to an overworked technician beside him, “Have you been keeping precise data on the speed and potency of the disease?”

  “Yes” replied the fearful med-team member, “As per your orders they have not been given medication of any kind”.

  “Very good” and seeing that his orders were being carried out he turned and looked into the face of Servant, “The loss of one warrior is insignificant in a confrontation with an enemy, a thousand is nothing when you are waging a battle and a million is miniscule when the victory is a world”.

  The blood of a warrior is a precious thing, it is called upon when your world is in danger and it is given in defense of that home, sometimes it flows needlessly over some trivial insult to a follower of a God or Goddess long forgotten, at times it covers a battlefield were brave warriors have fought and died just to settle an argument on who had the more powerful army. The history of humans and their many offshoots are littered with stories written in blood so that the Scholars of the Outer Rim have agreed that it is a part of that species and that costly river will flow as long as humans dwell under the stars.

 

 

 

  Chapter 21.