He sliced down clear through the neck of a stumbling enemy and burst forward, tackling two more to the ground. A Rezzian ally stabbed one of the Pawelons in the chest. Vieri squeezed and snapped the neck of the other with such force that the man died in his grip.
Vieri stood, searched for the lions, and found no sign of them. More Rezzians charged down from the hill as the dying screams and blood-spilling continued.
The Rezzian reinforcements beat back their foes. Retreating Pawelons found Rezzian spears in their backs.
Vieri called for medical help from the warpriests as his troops congratulated each other for surviving the skirmish. He tried to calm his panting and overcome the crazed lightness in his head. He removed his helm and crouched beside his son to collect his mind.
Caio reached up and put his hand on Vieri’s forehead.
Vieri’s world slowed. He noticed colors again: the bronze greaves on his soldiers, the red of their tunics and horsehair plumes, the ruddy browns of the dirt. He realized how tightly he was gripping his falchion. He sheathed his weapon and stretched the aching fingers of his red, cramped hand.
“I’ll be fine,” Caio said. “We need to find Lucia and Ilario.”
King Vieri gathered his son’s hands, with Mya’s rod between them, and held them in his own. His son had come within an inch of dying and his daughter was gone. Rezzia’s new Dux Spiritus lay wounded and defenseless on his back, with his protector nowhere to be found.
Vieri stared into his son’s wide, undefended eyes and prayed, “Lords Galleazzo and Oderigo, goddesses Mya and Ysa, bring Lucia back to us now. Whatever the cost may be, please bring her and Ilario back. I pray in your name.”
Caio’s eyes were bottomless, tranquil pools. Vieri realized he had never before felt so close to his son. He continued, “Gods of Lux Lucis, I swear that Rezzia will retreat from this battlefield with haste if you bring her back to us. We will take my son to safety and make sure that he heals. I will personally guard my daughter from the evil that has raped her, if you bring Ilario and Lucia back to us now. Save her from Pawelon’s dark magic.”
His wild, white hair stirring in the breeze, Lord Galleazzo, in his golden chainmail, looked down on Rezzia’s supplicant king.
Vieri’s bearded face pointed to the sky. His deep brown eyes glared at the heavens, begging.
Chapter 28: Death and Life
LORD SANSONE, I’M NO GOOD AT PRAYING, but help me find Lucia. She was in my arms, in my care. Sacrifice me if you must, but take me to her …
Ilario experienced the infinite black expanse of the universe, with only the presence of distant, burning stars to comfort him. A haze rose, a celestial grey fog clouding his perception. Without warning, barrages of vibrant colors overwhelmed his vision, streaking around him, subduing his consciousness into dazed submission.
A muted thought floated through it all.
I am dead.
No body, no weight. Only consciousness floating, experiencing something grander and more confusing than he’d ever thought possible. The sensation might have been liberating if it wasn’t so foreign.
Lucia, he remembered. Where is Lucia?
An all-powerful force sucked his being downward, into a body made of light. A strange landscape of glittering red dunes surrounded him. Ilario felt ill at ease, unable to feel solid ground. A sensation like burning went down into his throat and deep into his chest.
Three figures appeared in the distance. Dizzy, he propelled himself forward, though he wasn’t sure how. It felt like flying, unsteady and easy at the same time. Somehow he understood what was before him: two sages trying to possess Lucia’s spirit, and Lucia struggling against them.
Focused on the larger of the two, he propelled himself against the Pawelon sage. There was no sensation of colliding against him. Ilario entered the same mental space as his enemy, and the Pawelon’s consciousness spliced with his own. Ilario glimpsed an enemy much more confident in this realm—one annoyed at having his attention diverted. Their fragmented minds pushed against each other, wrestling for domination.
Helped by the distraction, Lucia’s spirit broke free and arose.
Ilario! he sensed her thoughts as she recognized him.
Fight them, Lucia!
I love you.
I do, too. Now fight.
The big sage pushed Ilario away from him. Ilario tried to tackle the being again.
As he tried to grapple his opponent, Ilario’s subtle body twisted around violently and slammed down, leaving him disoriented.
What just happened?
He looked for her. She was on her knees with the hands of the other Pawelon on her head, pushing her down and controlling her body.
Ilario found himself rooted and heavy, frozen in place. The larger sage stood over him and waved his flabby arms around like snakes toying with prey.
He felt as if he was being compressed into single point of light. Then came a nauseating shock, like having one’s insides scattered by a swift wind.
Now I’m dying.
Somehow from this disjointed state, he sensed the conversation taking place between Lucia and the other sage, hearing it as if it happened all at once.
If you agree to retreat with all of your forces, we will release you.
Stop whatever you are doing to him!
Only if we can negotiate.
Fine. But send us back and fight us like men, in the flesh.
Take your forces in the valley and return to your camp, or we’ll kill him here and now.
Your rajah will be given the chance to surrender. Under my brother’s leadership, we won’t humiliate you. Tell your people he will not slaughter them if they submit.
My father will not surrender. Agree to return and retreat.
Maybe—if you send both me and him back safely.
We have a deal then. Tomorrow, will you consider peace?
If Pawelon surrenders.
Tell your people to give up their war, before I am forced to hurt them, and you. The next time will be different …
The nightmare faded away.
Ilario began to feel the limbs of his physical body, like heavy stones flat against the earth. He barely heard the shouting of excited men and moved his dry tongue against the parched ridges on the roof of his mouth. A smooth hand touched his face.
Bright sunlight blinded him as his eyelids opened. Caio looked down on him, smiling despite another wound, this one on his left shoulder.
“My father prayed to the gods to bring you back to us. Lucia is back, too. Come with me, brother. I’ve called for our retreat.”
Chapter 29: The Barren Fields of Ares
LUCIA’S SWEAT-SOAKED VERMILION HAIR covered her face and shielded her from the cruelty of the sun. She kept her eyes closed, let her body sway, and allowed her mare to follow the others. The discordant sounds of the wounded men wheezing in pain and the stomping of the crawling beast that was the Rezzian army merged into a single droning noise that sent her within.
Her body felt alien, jagged and stretched out in places where she had no flesh. She yearned to sleep in hopes of waking to a more coherent sense of self, even if it meant facing Lord Danato again. Maybe she would sleep in Ilario’s arms.
The presence of Caio and Ilario, riding beside her, helped her feel sane. They either had no interest in talking, or they respected her need for quiet. Caio’s difficult breathing stoked her anger over the day’s events, but it had been a miracle of Lux Lucis they survived the day. Ilario’s ability to rescue her from that dark dimension was an even greater wonder. These miracles made her think of Lord Cosimo.
I hope your god watched over you today, Duilio.
Drowsiness came over her, soft and gentle. A moment of rest, just for a moment …
With a sudden jerk, she opened her eyes and found herself riding alone in the desert, hearing a familiar voice rumbling up from the dust below.
“My dearest Lucia.”
What do you want?
“Tell me h
ow you feel about what happened today.”
You really want to hear what I have to say to you? She searched frantically for a sign of him, finding none. Fine.
“My spirit was abducted without warning.” Her voice sounded coarse and dry. She hoped it sounded like anger rather than vulnerability. “I was completely unable to defend myself. My soul was nearly stolen away to another dimension, I can’t think clearly, my brother nearly died, Ilario was lucky to survive along with me, and the entire mission was a failure. My goddess’s own lightning nearly killed me. Caio’s first attempt at military leadership went nowhere. Everything is horrid in my world and you are the most foul presence in it. Does this make you happy?”
“My daughter, I am sorry for your pain.”
“All the other gods help us when we ask them. You are fixed on a vision of a war that never ends. Are you asking the rest of the gods to hold back their aid just so you can be right?”
Lord Danato’s voice remained calm. “I only want you to see, Lucia—”
“I see evil everywhere, and it always starts with you.” Tears poured out her eyes, over her cheeks.
“I am a patient god.”
“Damn, you are! What do you want from me?”
“What do you feel about the war now?”
The horizon was hazy, as if windstorms were blowing in from all directions. “Caio and I want it to end. Again you didn’t allow that.” She raised her voice. “Why?”
“I want freedom for you, dear Lucia. I want you to see—”
“I have always seen what you wanted me to see. What kind of god terrorizes a girl and stays with her all her life? Will you never leave me alone?”
“Halt!”
“Halt!”
“Halt!”
Her body jerked. Again she saw the waking world and heard the voices of soldiers. She rubbed hard across her brow with one hand, pushed her hair up, and smeared it back over the top of her head. She tugged back the reins.
From the south came a lone rider bearing the crimson Rezzian standard.
Her father trotted forward on horseback and motioned for his children to follow. They rode out and approached the thin soldier, a young man with only the beginnings of hair on his upper lip. His stretched-wide brown eyes, reddened by either his tears or the harsh winds, looked traumatized.
Ysa, please don’t let it be.
“Report, soldier,” her father drew up, but remained at a distance from the young man. No one else in the army was within earshot of the conversation.
The young man looked from face to face, his mouth twitching rather than speaking.
“Go on, report,” King Vieri barked.
“Havah ilz avah Haizzem.” He bent his head low in Caio’s direction. “My King, my Haizzem and Dux Spiritus, Your Grace.” His speech was uneven from tired lungs or a tired mind. “We ignored the sentry after they sent up their signals. A large Pawelon force came to meet us.”
“Speak faster.”
“And, it was all chaos, my King.” The young soldier stared down at the legs of Vieri’s horse. “We were overwhelmed by their sages. Our Strategos said he’d never seen such an effect.”
“What was it?” Lucia asked.
“I can’t explain. The skies went dark around us, Your Grace. We saw, we saw, almost as if the Pawelons were stars. We could not focus, couldn’t see their forces approaching. Or their arrows. We couldn’t see the terrain or the horizon. Bodies started falling. It was a total slaughter.”
“Where is Duilio?” her father asked.
“Strategos Duilio asked me to remain close to him. Once their sages’ magic ceased, we were surrounded. Eventually their general approached us.”
“Indrajit,” her father said.
“Yes. They were only interested in one prisoner, the Strategos. They slaughtered our remaining men. Their general introduced a sage named … something, and gave him credit for their victory. They came for me with their spears and I lost consciousness. I was sure I was going to die.” The soldier stopped again, with strain on his face as he fought through his emotions. “Later, I awoke on the battlefield. Everyone was dead—there were no wounds on my body. I don’t understand what happened.”
Lucia slowly turned her head from side to side as a painful realization began to sink in.
Danato’s vision …
“Everyone else was slaughtered?” Caio asked.
“Yes, Dux Spiritus. Yes, my Haizzem. I wish I had better news to bring to you. I am so sorry.”
“I’m glad you’re alive, my brother. What is your name?”
“Accori.” He slowly approached the side of Caio’s grey horse with watering eyes and humbly raised his hands.
Caio took Accori’s hands in his own. “You and Strategos Duilio prayed to Lord Cosimo?”
The soldier looked surprised. “Yes, my Haizzem, at his request.”
“I can tell you with certainty, Accori, this is why you are still with us.”
“Praises to Lord Cosimo,” the soldier said before he quickly lowered his head.
“Praises to him,” Caio said as he rested his palm on Accori’s crown.
Her father turned his face before Lucia could study his reaction to the news. He spurred his steed into a canter to rejoin the army.
From the moment Caio glimpsed Accori riding toward them, he felt leaden fingers squeezing his heart, much more painfully than the burning wound over his ribcage or the gnawing pain in his shoulder. He felt the horror of so much death in Accori’s soul, but refused to accept the truth until he heard it from the young soldier’s mouth. As he heard Accori speak, Caio saw a vision of Lord Cosimo standing beside Duilio and Accori as they prayed.
Caio rode once again between Ilario and Lucia, staring ahead at their camp.
Lucia spoke quietly, “It’s on us to admit our plan failed, and miserably. The gods remain unswayed.” Her voice trembled with frustrated emotion and tiredness. “We have no other choice now but to visit Lord Danato.”
Caio hesitated to think it.
“You have to agree,” she said.
“I do.” He looked down at the trampled desert with a sense of dread choking him.
“I don’t want to interrupt,” Ilario said, “but are you talking about what I—”
“Yes,” Lucia cut him off. “Danato’s underworld realm.”
Ilario’s brow creased in confusion.
“My dear friend,” Caio began, “I’ve recently learned that Danato holds a clear vision of this conflict. In his vision, the war rages for another ten years. Unless we appease him, our lot is to be doomed and ill-favored by our gods.”
“But do you have to do something so extreme?” Ilario held back the strength of his conviction; Caio could feel it.
“Believe me,” Lucia said to Ilario. “It is the very last thing I would ever want to do.”
Hearing Lucia’s words, Caio’s heart felt strangled again.
Ilario scrunched his lips and clenched his jaw. “But there has to be some other way. Can’t you appeal to him without visiting his realm? What is it the scriptures say about those who make that journey?”
“That he always gifts his supplicants with sorrow,” Lucia said.
“We must give Lord Danato the greatest respect,” Caio said and heard a huff of disgust from Lucia. “He is a god of Lux Lucis. His sole purpose is to protect us and guide us to the light.”
Lucia shook her head and looked away.
None of them spoke again during the journey back.
The camp lay ahead, with the sun not long from setting in the north, to their left and behind them. Fires burned in the distance, first for cooking their meat and gruel, then to let the warriors stare into a flickering, ceremonial reminder of the day’s dead. Under the tall white tents, thousands of well-worn beds would remain empty, haunted.
Chapter 30: Fading Sunlight
DEVAK’S BOOTS HAMMERED the stone floor as he marched in circles around his chamber, shaking his head, wondering if he should curs
e himself. Still no word from Rao.
Indrajit walked slowly, almost meditatively, near the center of the room. A layer of dust covered his uniform after his trek into the canyon and back. “It was a glorious rout. Briraji’s help was invaluable. We massacred their legions.”
“How many Pawelons were slaughtered to the north?” I don’t care what you detect in my voice.
Indrajit’s steely expression remained unchanged. “We had no chance to reach them. We only know the Rezzian army retreated.”
“I want to know what happened.”
“We should know soon.” Indrajit stepped past the late-day shadows, to the highest eastern lookout inside the ancient tower. The opening had been worn down by wind and rain over the centuries. “No matter what happened there, we annihilated a considerably larger force in the south. This may be the greatest victory we’ve achieved in a single day.”
Devak huffed out a breath and approached the side of his general. The sun sank too quickly toward the northern horizon. The northern troop still could not be seen—only pale green shrubs, red earth, and a darkening sky. “Once Rao is back, we’ll call this day a victory.”
“Oh, I expect he will be back.” After a long silence, Indrajit turned his head to Devak. “I had excellent commanders there, too. Those men would be significant losses.”
Devak squinted his eyes in response. “Rao was right.”
“This time he was. But we cannot plan a war with caprice and whims.” Indrajit looked to the sunset again. “Eventually your luck will run out.”
Devak stepped in front of Indrajit and searched the world outside the citadel, finding too much calm. “We have been stuck here too long. I want to see Pawelon again.”
“Hasn’t my strategy allowed us to survive, Devak? Have I failed you?” Indrajit’s breath reeked of his last meal, garlic and onions.
“No. But something needs to change.”
“I’ve been employing new tactics, my Rajah. You even questioned me when I did … I’m confused. Would you look to a boy for your answers?”
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