Nomads The Risen God

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Nomads The Risen God Page 32

by Gary Mark Lee

PRIVATE VIEWING ONLY---UNAUTHORIZED READING IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH.

  The level ten atmospheric disturbance has been raging for the last twenty four time breaks, damage to encampment has been severe and there have been some casualties but I have received information that the storm will subside soon and we will be able to launch landing ships to the surface.

 

  From the personal journal of Ivar-Anoon, first General of the combined forces of the Mac-Mar Alliance.

  The world of Gorn had never experienced a storm like the one that now ravaged the land and sea.

  Wind, rain and bolts of lightning pounded the ground and water, a great dust storm swirled across the Sirolian Plains sending the herds of Rimar into a panic trampling fields of ripened Kasha wheat under their heavy feet. Doff-birds raced for their lives but there was nowhere to find shelter from the choking dust, Shellbacks drew in their thick armored necks and sat like field stones against the driving winds. Even the massive Earthshakers were affected for the wind blew the layers of earth from their immense backs causing them to rise up and bellow their anger.

  What remained of the City of the Talsonar had become a hiding place for outland creatures and roaming Sandjar that found the broken stones a place of safety but it became their grave as sand piled up amongst the huge fragments burying alive those who tried to seek shelter from the pounding gale.

  The Breast of Isarie fared somewhat better for the huge dome was able to withstand the raging storm and those Nomads that had come there following their cycle of rituals were protected but they still prayed for mercy for those that were not so fortunate. Still other Outlanders found safety in the Hollow Hills and the twisting canyons of the Pass of Moke, there they would stay uttering prayers and watching for a break in the tempest.

  The Land of Smokes became a burning hell as the ground shook and great towers of molten fire rose up to the sky mixing with acid vapors and Eulmar that spewed from fissures in the ground, and just beyond the broken wall the Valley of Dispair became a rock strewn gorge as walls of stone tumbled down filling up the pass and crushing all creatures who made it their home.

  The Jungles of Yug were pounded by a driving rain and wind that toppled ancient trees and terrorized the sub-human Galu and all the strange creatures of that emerald land. What remained of the Forbidden City broke apart and the giant Sceechers that dwelled in its haunted levels took to the air circling the crumbling mass of rock and steel calling out their anger to the sky.

  Even the fortress of the Norgonie could not withstand the onslaught from the heavens; the great stronghold was rocked by shakings of the ground and bolts of lightning that struck the watchtowers and the God-machine that rose up from the center of the compound and a sacred temple that the forest dwellers came to pray to Armra their God.

  The Poisoned lands of the Shadowmen was not spared punishment for it seems that those scarred and disfigured people would have more pain and suffering added to their retched existence, they huddled in their dark caverns as their underground home shook and great chunks of rock fell from caverns ceilings and with no God to pray too they sat silently excepting their fate.

  But the place that seemed to be the focus of the storm was the land around the Eye of Isarie for it was there that the land shook the most and the wind blew the hardest.

  The great columns of stone that circled the sacred alter tumbled one onto another shattering the ancient markings and covering the Talk-stone under tons of rock, and the destruction was not all centered on the places that had stood for eons for a prodigious crack opened under the fallen warship of the Alliance and it was swallowed up by the earth.

  “We must seek stronger cover!” Anais shouted as the raging winds hammered the Karack that they huddled in.

  “There is no place the winds will not find us” replied Kela as their wagon rocked from side to side.

  Romar said nothing as he sat in the back of the wooden vehicle and although he would never admit it he was scared. This is no way for a soldier to die he thought, he always believed that he would be killed in battle bravely commanding his warship in a desperate confrontation against a powerful enemy, but here he was cowering in a primitive wagon as an invisible force of nature took aim at him. The only ones that seemed unaffected by the storm were the two Drogs for they huddled together under the Karack, heads down, legs drawn in tight and appearing to be asleep. Trofars and Whiptails were used to wind and rain and being the size they were they had no fear of being carried away or drown, but they still roared their defiance and stamped the muddy soil as lightning bolts struck the ground around them. But humans were small creatures compared to the great Thundra beasts so Kela held taut to her mate and whispered an appeal to Isarie.

  “Pass us through this fear; grant us mercy in your all seeing eyes.

  Forgive us for our sins and hold us in your arms.”

  It was an ancient prayer that she learned as a young Handmaiden and although she was no longer a servant of the Goddess she still held tightly to her beliefs and in them she found strength.

  Endo and Rawna also held each other in their arms but they did not pray for they believed in no Gods, they were Sandjars, scavengers of the Outlands and therefor unworthy of the love of Isarie, but it was said in the Holy Book that the Goddess knows and sees all and even the lowest of creatures has a place in her heart. Now as the storm raged Endo braced himself against the Karack that held the taken weapons for their tent had been sucked away.

  The storm will pass and we will be safe, he spoke those words to his mind hoping it would be true but knowing that at any time a shaft of white hot electricity could end their lives in an instant. Rawna closed her eyes and held tight to her Coraw and feeling the beating of his heart brought her some comfort but something else was pulling at her and not knowing what the next moment might bring she lifted her head and looked into his large eyes.

  “I have life inside of me” she said softly.

  For a moment Endo did not know what she meant then a sudden realization fell over his face, a child he thought, she is carrying a child inside her, my child.

  Nomads would say with certainty that Scavengers have no feelings for their young for they had seen them being abused by the Sandjar and sometimes eaten as food in times of need, but Endo had been raised in the camp of the Almadra by a man who was wise and gentle and he passed that kindness on to the female at his side.

  Andra had been raised on a small farm but she had learned to fight and never give up but as she looked out at the raging water she wanted to let go of the guide rope and join her mate in the dark depths of the sea. Gone she thought, dead like my mother and my brother, dead like her Homeworld and her troopers, all gone, what will I do now? She could return to her adopted clan, but was it really her tribe or was she just an orphan from the stars who fell to ground and was taken in by a man who found her attractive? She had fought beside them and was given the name Moonbud, the flower that kills, but what was she really? A young woman who shared a bed and her body with their King and stood beside him on ritual days, why not just let go and end it all?

  “Follow your orders” a voice told her and she turned quickly expecting to find Sargent Reynolds standing near her, but there was no one just wind, rain, and the waves crashing against the thick hull of the Cronos. Andra turned back to the water and watched as great waves rose and fell rocking the hunter ship and slowly taking her back to a world she no longer cared for.

  Arn is dead she told herself, I am alone but strange as it seemed the pain in her heart that she waited for did not come? Instead she felt only resolve to face the truth and move on, what has happened to me? The face of her dead lover flashed before her eyes but she did no weep as it vanished, she tried to feel his arms around her but she felt only the wind on her skin, did he mean so little to me?

  Before she could answer that thought she felt a hand on her shoulder and turning she saw Cian standing close to her, he said nothing as she looked into his beckoning blue eyes
and then without thinking she reached out and took him into her arms and kissed him.

  The dead are dead she heard her mind say casualties of war, more on.

  And so the Off-world girl known to the Outlands as Moonbud let go of the past and embraced the future, her nose filled with a sweet fragrance that took away all pain and guilt and questions and her body shook with the lust that had been pulling at her but in her heart she felt nothing, no love or comfort or need it was if she had died and now walked as a phantom of what use to be.

  Osh and Alune were unable to return to their wagon for the wind and rain raged outside the small cave they huddled in, the waves broke hard on the rocks near by sending up towers of salty spray adding to the thunderstorm and their fear.

  I have failed the Callaxion thought, Andra had entrusted me with her daughter and now she is dead. It was a hard truth but one he had to face, you should have done something to save her but what that something was he could not find in his mind only facts and equations about alternate outcomes that might have been and one of those truths was beside him now, he would have risked the life of Alune. She needs me now and I need her, and that balance of things to come satisfied the old man.

  The Touchtender was also thinking of what she had done and what might be in store for her in the future, I should have helped her, I am a Touchtender of Isarie and I have taken an oath to care for her creatures and now I have turned my back on one. Alune had always believed that when she died her soul would enter the Afterlife and find a place in the Golden Hall for all eternity, but now what would happen to her? Will I be worthy or will I fall into the Pit of Marloon?

  Egmar had no time to think of eternity for she was running for her life; she headed towards the sea avoiding the chaos near the domes of the Akuna and following a little known path that she knew from her long ago childhood, it twisted and turned through jagged rocks and towering outcroppings of dark Eul. At times, the going was relatively easy then the rain and wind began and her escape suddenly became very treacherous, the ground turned soft making her footing uncertain and the raging wind blinded her eyes so that she could scarcely see the figure of Dennor leading the way, then a misstep sent her tumbling to the muddy ground and the metal head of her forgotten son tumbled from under her robe and lodged itself between to rocks.

  “Wait!” she called out above the storm and she lifted her hand hoping that it would be taken by her sister. Dennor stopped and turned to look at the fallen woman, “You were once the Queen of the Almadra and their Holy Mother and now you seek my help?”

  it was a strange thing to say at such a perilous time but Egmar knew that her sister’s moods could swing from one side to another like a warriors ax so she lowered her hand and gathering up her strength she rose to her feet, she moved to where the metallic artifact sat wedged and taking it into her hand she tried to pull it free but it was stuck hard.

  “Help me” she called out but her sister simply looked at her with distain in her eyes.

  “It is just a fragment from a child long dead” she said coldly “let the wind and rains have it, perhaps it will make a good offering to your Gods?”

  But Egmar was not about to leave the only reminder of her lost son behind and pulling with all her might the head broke free and she quickly placed it back under her robe.

  Dennor watched unmoving then seeing that her sister had what she wanted she smiled, “You see dear sister, you saved yourself” and then she turned and continued along the meandering pathway, the Holy Mother shook the droplets of rain from her eyes and followed behind.

  They traveled for what seemed like a lifetime avoiding creatures that were also seeking shelter and trying their best not to be eaten as prey, then ahead of them Egmar spotted a small hut made of driftwood and rock, it was little more than a hovel for some outcast fisherman but it would keep them out of the rain and wind so with no other choice in site they headed for the broken shanty and forcing open a heavy door they went inside. It was barren except for a small table, a rumpled and torn sleeping mattress, two chairs, some barrels and boxes and abandoned fishing paraphernalia, there was a stone fire pit in the center of the room and a smoke shaft made from the hollow leg bone of some great beast, the peaked roof was supported by a half dozen ribs from a large sea creature and had several holes allowing the water to drip inside creating small shimmering pools on the stonework floor, there were two square cut windows on the otherwise uncluttered walls, it smelled of dead fish and rotten vegetation but it was better than facing the elements outside.

  They were not the only living creatures that wanted a place out of the rain and wind for a family of Sand-walkers occupied one corner of the shack, the small furry animals dug for shellfish and Mudworms and were no danger to the humans as long as they kept to their side of the room. “We will be safe here” Dennor said shaking the water from her robe and sitting down on an upturned barrel in a corner of the darkened room.

  Egmar moved to the small table, took the metal head from under her robe and placed it down gently, she stood there for a time looking into the vacant eyes of the metallic skull then she walked to a dry place and sat down. Neither of the sisters said a word for some time they just sat in the darkness as flashes of lightening sent shafts of cold light through the holes in the ceiling illuminating the small hut.

  “What will you do now?” Dennor asked finally breaking the long silence.

  “Why would you ask such a question?” Egmar replied turning her head in a direction so she would not have to look into the face across the room.

  “All your children are dead, your faithful guardians have turned against you and your Gods have abandoned you, what will you do now?”

  The Holy Mother was about to say that she spoke deceptions but she knew that some of it was indeed the truth, her children were dead and the Thungodra did try to kill her, but one thing was not a falsehood; Isarie was still by her side.

  “The Goddess will protect me” she said proudly turning to look into the eyes of her sister but the darkness of the room prevented her from knowing what lay behind those eyes, instead she heard a faint laughter from her sibling.

  “You are a poor Meka after all” Dennor said with great amusement in her voice.

  Egmar always hated being called that name by her older sister for Meka was from the old language and meant a small helpless fish, and knowing that the words were meant to hurt her she wanted to return the insult, “And you are an old woman who never found a mate!” as soon as the words left her mouth the Holy Mother regretted saying them but it was too late to take them back but she knew she should try, “Forgive me for my words, I am cold, wet and tired, and I wish to sleep”. And she tried to close her eyes hoping that no more would be said.

  “No” Dennor said after a moment or two, “What you say is true, I am old and I have no mate, my age is an unwanted gift of time and that hand holds us all in its inevitable grip, only death can end that suffering but as for my being alone that my dear sister was your decision”.

  “Karn loved me not you” the Holy Mother replied jerking her head to one side and looking out the window at the raging storm.

  Dennor leaned forward on her rotting barrel, “Yes he did love you, but he loved me first”.

  Egmar did not reply and continued looking out the window as her sister rose to her feet and began moving about the small room speaking as she walked.

  “It was many cycles ago and being an old woman yourself your memory may have dimmed so allow me to recall some events for you”, Dennor moved to the cast off fishing gear and picked up a smashed spear, its ivory barbed head was still attached but the long shaft was broken in two leaving only an arms lengths behind, “being your older sister it was my duty to teach you the ways of our people, how to swim, how to hunt and how to dance and how to embrace another”, her fingers touched the tip of the spearhead, “You learned well and we spent many contented days under the warm sky, what I had was yours and what you had was mine, we were sisters
and believed that nothing would ever come between us”.

  The Holy Mother listened quietly and raised no voice in opposition.

  Dennor moved to the small table still holding the broken weapon in her hand, “then the great tribe of the Almadra journeyed to our land and riding beside their King was a handsome young prince whose name was Karn”, the story teller wrapped her arms around herself and smiled as the wind roared outside, “oh what a beautiful creature he was, tall, strong and brave, any Akuna woman would have given all the shells in the sea to be with him, and who do you suppose he chose?” The older sister waited for a response but there was none, “He could have had any woman he wanted but he selected the one who coveted him not for a night or two as is the custom of our people but for a lifetime, do you remember who he prized above all others?”

  Again, there was only silence.

  Dennor moved a little closer to her sister still carrying the spear, “He called me Sulkar, beautiful one and we danced under the night moons and all the stars were jealous of our love!” and she lifted her arms and began dancing about the room not caring if the rain fell on her, she moved like a young girl again, lifting her feet high and swaying her hips to the music of the storm. Once she came to close to the Sand-walkers and they let out a shrill cry as a warning to keep a distance but the Akuna woman ignored their screams the same way she ignored the thunder and lightning outside. “I was the best dancer of all the Akuna perhaps that is why he loved me so much?”

  “Karn did not love you” Egmar suddenly said, “He lusted after you that much is true but he did not love you”. Dennor abruptly stopped her dancing, “False words!” she shouted and drawing

  back her arm she threw the weapon at her sister missing her head by only a hands width, “He brought me gifts and held me in an embrace that nearly broke my spine”.

  Egmar reached up and pulled the spear from the pitted wall and tossed it on the floor, “The Nomads gave favors to all our tribe, it is their custom” the Holy Mother replied, “They are a strong people and their warriors are the strongest of all”.

  The older sister moved back to the small table; “Karn said that he would take me with him when his tribe moved on and that I would be his mate for all time”, her voice was heavy with sweet venom that only a woman would recognize. “Then what do you think happened? A young girl found her way into his bed, a girl who I thought would never betray me, a girl who used what I had taught her to steal what was rightfully mine!”

  Egmar shook her head, “Now who is speaking false, it is true that you taught me the ways of our people, you taught me how to swim but you always made sure that you raced first, you showed me how to hunt but when I speared a fish larger than yours you tossed it back into the sea, you taught me how to dance but when the men looked at Egmar rather than Dennor you cut my foot and told everyone that I had inflicted the wound myself, and when I embraced a man I cared for you whispered to him that I was laughing behind his kiss.” The Holy Mother waited to hear more spiteful words from her sister but none came she just stood and looked at her saying nothing.

  The thunder was unrelenting as more flashes of light danced in the cramped shanty, rain showered down through the breaks in the torn roof as the family of Sand-walkers continued to huddle together seeking comfort, at last there was a break in the rumbling and the elder of the two sisters spoke once more.

  “Yes I did as you say”, her words were arrogant and held not the slightest bit of remorse, “And because of all those things I did you longed for revenge so when Karn chose me first you found a way to make me suffer so you took him from me”, Dennor picked up the metal head and looked into its vacant eyes, “It is strange how your Goddess rewarded you for your treachery, she selected you mate to the King of the Almadra and her speaker of the truth, still I am sure there was a price to pay” and she tossed the severed skull into her sisters lap. Egmar said nothing as she took up the relic and held it to her breast, “What you say is true and I have been punished”, and then she began to weep and her bitter tears mixed with the raindrops falling on her face.

  Outside the tempest continued but it was nothing compared to the storm that now raged in the heart of the Holy Mother.

 

 

 

  Chapter 24.

  Death and Ruin.

  All things die, even the Gods must have their endings but others will take their place until they too succumb to the passage of time.

  From the Book of Isarie.

 

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