The Lilith Trilogy Box Set

by Kim ten Tusscher

  Yvar made his horse stop unexpectedly. The guards at the front turned their horses around and rode back. The captain of the group of soldiers rushed towards the king and his retinue. He knelt beside the king’s horse and kissed the hem of Yvar’s cloak.

  “I see a lot of young soldiers,” Yvar remarked.

  “Many men have enlisted since the attack on Havv’n. They come from far and wide to the army camps.”

  Some of the more inquisitive young men looked up. They had never seen the king before.

  “At least something good came of that attack,” Yvar said. “We can use anyone in the fight against Kasimirh. Resume your drills.”

  The captain shouted orders, which were immediately obeyed by the soldiers. As one, they presented their swords to the king.

  “Return, sword!”

  The soldiers sheathed their swords without delay.

  “Change!”

  One by one the men came forward to lay down their swords by the side of the field. They received wooden practice swords in return.

  Two soldiers immediately clashed swords. With all the other men walking to the beat and not doing anything unexpected, they stood out all the more. The captain blew a whistle. The boys jumped to attention and rushed back to their place in line.

  While the soldiers practiced their fighting, Yvar addressed the captain. “I count on these soldiers being ready for action on time.”

  “Certainly, lord”

  Ferhdessar, however, wasn’t satisfied. Looking at the soldiers, there was enough to worry about. Those two boys for example. Their mistakes were small, but in battle the smallest things could cause the most danger.

  “Them as well?” he therefore asked.

  The captain looked at the two young soldiers. One of them noticed that they were being watched. He tried to make a good impression, but to no avail. The other boy threw him on the ground and placed his practice sword against his throat. He proudly looked at the king.

  “They are too pre-occupied with everything around them, when they should be focusing on their opponents.”

  “These boys have only been here for a short while. They’re making progress and are very eager. They’ll be ready on time, leave it to me.”

  They watched the soldiers practicing for a while. Yvar ordered the captain to make them stop.

  “Halt!”

  In a few seconds, everybody was back in line. Yvar made his horse walk forwards. The king let his gaze wander along the soldiers and nodded.

  “My heart fills with pride to see you standing here: young men who have voluntarily left everything behind to serve Merzia. Some of you have families and I understand how difficult it must have been to make this decision. For others, the decision won’t have been any easier, either.

  Nevertheless, you are here, training with dedication and prepared to give up everything for the freedom and safety of this country. I want you to know how grateful I am, and how grateful your fellow Merzians are. That is the biggest reward you can ever hope to get.”

  The soldiers nodded excitedly. Yvar turned his horse around. The captain and the soldiers bowed to their king.

  Behind him, Ferhdessar heard orders being shouted, and from a bit farther away came the sounds of the shooting range.

  “You don’t necessarily win a war by superiority of numbers,” Ferhdessar muttered. “You need highly trained, disciplined soldiers. Not farmers with pitchforks.”

  “They are being trained here,” Yvar replied. “And you are underestimating the fact that they are here of their own free will. Therein lies power as well.”

  They arrived at the temple, and the king and his retinue dismounted. The building was surrounded by statues of Wigg’s super terrestrial army. Each soldier was at least 10 feet in height. They had put their enormous shields beside them on the ground, and their spears were pointing forwards.

  “Imagine how awe-inspiring it must have been to behold these warriors on the battlefield,” Yvar said. He was talking about the wars against the devil, of which many tales were told.

  Ferhdessar nodded and examined the statues more closely than he ever had before. At first glance, all the soldiers looked the same, but they were all unique. The variations were in the details: eye colour, details on the undergarments, or the position of the fingers. These men guarded Wigg’s domain relentlessly.

  “I shudder the thought of facing them,” the sorcerer said. But at the same time he couldn’t help thinking that his airplane could easily fight these soldiers. He was embarrassed by his own pride. How dare he think he could beat God’s army?

  The doors to the temple opened, and Ferhdessar, Yvar and the guards climbed the stairs.

  “I want to ask Wigg a question,” Yvar said after greetings had been exchanged.

  The priest nodded and admitted them. Through the gallery, they entered the inner chamber where Wigg’s statue stood. Even though Ferhdessar had been here numerous times before, the sweltering heat in the room overtook him every time. The high temperature was caused by a fire, burning in the middle of the room. A prancing stone horse stood in the flames. Wigg was seated on its back. He was holding the reigns with only one hand and held an axe in the other. The flames made his silver harness look like gold. With all lighting coming from below, the statue looked even bigger than it was. Wigg’s piercing eyes would make even heathens feel humble.

  Yvar kept his distance and looked up. “Everything looks different now that I’ve come here for this specific reason.” He advanced a few steps and knelt down to pray.

  Ferhdessar knelt beside him. They simultaneously cast an offering into the flames. The heat singed the hairs on Ferhdessar’s hand. Crackling loudly, the fire accepted the objects. Ferhdessar thanked the God of War for the victory at Havv’n. At the same time trying his best not to curse the heat while he was praying. His clothes were sticking to his back when he got up. He looked to the side and saw sweat glistening on Yvar’s forehead. Only the priest wasn’t affected. He was used to the heat.

  The priest used tongs to pick up a burning piece of wood from the fire, and put it in a bowl. He beckoned Yvar. “You’re ready to enter the sanctuary. Please, come with me.”

  Ferhdessar followed the two men. He looked at the soldiers painted on the walls that they passed. They were just as lifelike as the statues outside. Their eyes followed him as he walked through the door to the most sacred part of the temple. This was the place where a God could reveal his wishes. It was rare for the king to ask permission to enter this room.

  Ferhdessar’s excitement grew as he crossed the threshold. The walls were painted from floor to ceiling with scenes from the mythical wars against the devil. There were dozens of stands with torches, so this room was hot as well. The room was bare, except for a black table.

  “Wigg beheaded the devil on that table,” Ferhdessar whispered breathlessly to Yvar.

  “You can still see the dents in the tabletop,” Yvar answered, equally impressed. Meanwhile, the priest produced small bowls from the alcoves and put them in a circle on the table.

  “It is a pity that I never laid my hands on a splinter of that table,” Ferhdessar mumbled. “It must be a tremendously powerful talisman.” His hand touched the metal disc hanging around his neck. The disc contained even more powerful magic, but still, a splinter would be a beautiful acquisition for his collection.

  “What do you want to ask Wigg?” the priest asked after he had put the last bowl on the table.

  “I want to know if He approves of a war against Kasimirh.”

  The priest nodded and gestured at the table. “Take something from any one of these bowls and throw it into the fire. You will then receive an answer to the question if Wigg will support your war.”

  Yvar nodded and started to walk around the table. He stopped a few times. At one point he even picked up some powder before he changed his mind and poured it back into the bowl. After he had walked around the table three times, the king held still. He whispered a prayer and threw
some powder into the fire.

  The fire crackled. Different coloured flames rose up and shrunk again. This went on for a little while. When the fire had returned to normal, and the priest opened his mouth to make a prophecy, there was a bright flash.

  The priest remained silent in contemplation. Finally he said, “I foresee a fierce battle in which the chances of victory and defeat are as good as equal. It will be a prolonged battle, and chaos will complicate matters even more. Yet, Merzia will prevail, and victory will come unexpectedly.”

  Ferhdessar nodded, he had interpreted the flames in the same way. There was a smile on Yvar’s lips.

  “Aren’t all battles fierce and unpredictable? I’m happy with this prophecy. I now know what to do.”

  They left the inner chamber. Yvar bowed to Wigg one last time, and then the king and his retinue left the temple.

  “Now I’m ready to sign the treaty,” the king said to Ferhdessar, as they mounted their horses.

  A servant brought a bottle of wine and three glasses. Soon after the arrival of the pontifex, most of the maidservants’ duties had been taken over by male servants. The women in the palace were on edge around the man that was constantly leering at them in a disdainful way. Zuzeca didn’t put up with the maidservants not obeying his orders and he simply ignored the male servants.

  “I’ve studied your draft for the treaty and have made a few adjustments,” Yvar said. “My proposition is that the treaty is valid so long as Kasimirh hasn’t been defeated. Should one of us die when the prophet is still alive, the other is still bound to the agreements in this treaty.”

  Zuzeca gave a curt nod and motioned that he was fine with it.

  Ferhdessar was worried by Zuzeca’s indifference with regard to the treaty. The pontifex’s version of the text had been brief and to the point. It hadn’t contained much more information than that Merzia and Zuzeca’s lands would jointly fight Kasimirh. During the negotiations, Ferhdessar and Yvar had proposed more and more additions, and Zuzeca hadn’t objected to any of them.

  “Then I have another addition. Allies of the parties concerned will receive the same protection as agreed upon in this treaty.”

  Yvar hadn’t even finished his sentence before Zuzeca jumped to his feet. “Allies? Who are you talking about? I have no allies, but if you do, I should be informed.”

  Yvar clutched the edge of the table. Then he shook his head. “I don’t have any other allies at the present, but that might change in the future. I’ve never made it a secret that I dispatched several envoys with my request. The rules apply to your potential allies as well.”

  “Who would be my ally? The other pontifices who see me as a threat to their power?” Zuzeca grumbled. Nevertheless, he relaxed and sat back down.

  “As discussed, I expect your army to be of support to mine. Your soldiers will make sure that my army can travel through Naftalia safely.”

  Zuzeca nodded. “But now you are getting ahead of yourself. Before we can attack him, we must first get acquainted with our enemy. I’ll collect information about him.”

  “We should go to war sooner rather than later,” Ferhdessar said. “Kasimirh has suffered numerous losses at Havv’n and won’t have had the time to rebuild his army.”

  “Lord Zuzeca is right, Ferhdessar. We need time to prepare. Information gathered by the pontifex will help us come up with a strategy.” Yvar turned to face Zuzeca. “We also require information about the area we will travel through. Are the roads easily passable, where can we find fresh water, and what are the best places to put up camp?”

  “I’ll send you the best maps there are. It’s a sign of wisdom that you can muster patience at a time like this. I understand lord Ferhdessar’s eagerness to act quickly, but I fear he underestimates Kasimirh. You told me that the dragon has returned to him. She equals at least a thousand soldiers.”

  “That, indeed, is what worries me,” Yvar agreed.

  “Nevertheless, it doesn’t feel right that we are giving him an opportunity to restore his power,” Ferhdessar responded.

  Yvar glanced at him. “My generals have strongly advised me to remain calm. We’ll do what the pontifex suggests. He is the right man to provide us with important information.”

  Yvar moved the papers towards himself and put his signature and seal on them. Zuzeca did likewise. Both men rose to their feet and shook hands.

  “To victory,” said Yvar. The pontifex nodded, and they raised their glasses.

  “When do you intend to leave?” Yvar asked, as they left the room.

  “Even though I would have loved to have stayed longer, I’ll leave for Naftalia tomorrow. Have you come to a decision about Nigesanla yet?”

  “I spoke to her, and she has told me that she would like to stay in Nadesh.”

  “I trust her to do whatever you please. Should there be any problems that punishment can’t fix, please let me know.”

  11

  Lilith opened her mouth to let the fresh air in. She hoped it would help to get rid of the taste of sulphur, but it didn’t. She salivated, swallowed, and immediately repeated the act, only this time she spat out the saliva. The foul taste was less pronounced, but didn’t disappear altogether, so she decided to ignore it.

  It was a beautiful, clear night. The moon looked big in the sky, and a soft breeze swirled around her body. Lilith had just attacked a village. It was always easier to fly by night, because in the dark she couldn’t see the humans.

  Off in the distance, she heard the sound of bats hunting for insects. In front of her, she saw the glittering water of a lake, and when she flew over it, she saw her own reflection. She was curious and descended. Without moving her wings, she skimmed along the surface of the lake. She caused a small ripple in the water, which made it impossible to take a good look at herself. With the next beat, her wings touched the water. Lilith regained some height and dived into the water. For a short time, she was surrounded by softness and warmth, and then she darted out of the water again. The liquid slid down her scales and fell back into the lake with the tinkling sound of little bells. Laughing, she decided to search for a convenient spot on the shore.

  Once there, she bent over and looked at her face by the light of the moon. Even though the water was calm, it moved a little, so she still couldn’t get a good look at her reflection. She could discern the prominent features: her mouth and her sparkling eyes, and especially the spikes around her head that sometimes stood up straight. If she opened her mouth, her white teeth stood out against the dark water. For a minute, Lilith was startled by the sharpness of her own teeth and she recoiled, only to crawl back again and smile at herself. That was disappointing. The smile was more like a grimace that made her look even more dangerous.

  Then she noticed the collar with two chains attached to it. Now she also noticed two figures reflected in the water. Slowly, the image became more clear. Ferhdessar and Kasimirh took turns pulling on the chains in an attempt to drag her to their side. Lilith tried to remember who had ordered her to destroy the village, but she couldn’t.

  “Ssh, calm down, Lilith.”

  Someone was pulling at her again. Lilith flexed her muscles and growled. The shaking became worse.

  “Lilith, wake up.”

  She started to calm down and finally opened her eyes. Ohinde was sitting next to her. Her hands resting on her shoulders.

  “All right, that’s better. It was only a bad dream.”

  Lilith let the words sink in and then shook her head. “It’s the bitter truth.”

  “It’s over now. Do you want to tell me what your dream was about? It might help.”

  “It was about Kasimirh, among other things.”

  Lilith had gotten up and now walked to the fireplace. She wanted to shake off the nightmare as soon as possible, and that was easier out of bed. Ohinde followed her.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t return to him, but instead go looking for your parents.”

  Even though Lilith had tried to avoid talking to Oh
inde about Kasimirh, little by little she had revealed a thing or two. It was enough for the woman to get the gist of things. The conversations had increased Lilith’s doubts as well as her fear of making the wrong decision by returning to Kasimirh. Ohinde’s idea, however, was out of the question.

  “I recently found out that my parents are dead.”

  Ohinde was shocked. “I’m so sorry to hear that. How did they die?”

  “I killed them…” Lilith whispered.

  “No, that’s ridiculous,” Ohinde said in an effort to make her feel better.

  “It’s true.”

  “How on earth could you have killed them? Why do you say such a thing?”

  Lilith remained silent. How could she tell her what she had done?

  “Do you mean they died out of grief for you? But that isn’t your fault, now is it? I would be devastated if someone took my child away from me. The blame wouldn’t be on her, though, but on the man who took her.”

  Lilith shrugged. “It’s not what you think.”

  Ohinde would despise her if Lilith confessed that she had destroyed her parents’ village. None had survived, she knew that for sure. She had wanted to save herself from death, and by doing so had killed her own parents.

  Lilith prodded the fire with a stick and put a new log on it, even though it wasn’t necessary. After a deep sigh Lilith said, more to herself than to Ohinde: “My master saw me as an object. He used me. I was an instrument, not a tiny human being to be loved. That wasn’t why he took me in. Only now do I realize what I missed out on, and how that has marked me for life. I finally see what should have been abundantly clear to me from the start.”

  Lilith turned around. She was aware of the bitterness in her voice. Her tone apparently made the other woman realize that things were worse than she had thought, because she bowed her head. Lilith saw a teardrop fall to the floor. Ohinde quickly wiped her eyes. Lilith was surprised. This woman cried for her without even knowing what had happened, whereas Lilith couldn’t even cry about it herself.