Embrace of the Medusi (The Overlords Trilogy Book 2)

by Toby Andersen

  ‘Please,’ said Naus, ‘let us buy you a drink. We’re not with the Temple.’

  ‘He is.’ The second man pointed at Crescen, brandishing the finger as if he’d like to stab Crescen with it. ‘And don’t try to tell me he’s not.’

  ‘He is,’ agreed Naus, ‘but we are just passing through. I am a well-known bard from Theris. Arcturus is the name, you may have heard of me.’ Both men looked blank.

  The first man stepped right up to him. ‘Listen, Grandad. Cephean like him spy on the town, sending their messages back to their Goddess. They killed my friend’s son after they had heard him cussing about the Temple being so near our town.’ He swept his arm across the room. ‘Ask anyone here and you will hear a tale of loved ones lost to the Temple, either seduced into joining the Clerics, or killed by the thralled. The Cephean are the worst, her personal pets, spying and reporting on us.’

  Naus could see a decision falling across the second man’s face, the one who had lost his son. He launched at Crescen, meaty hands going for the scrawny youth’s neck. Naus cursed and grabbed the man’s hands, using his inertia and weight to swing him round and onto the floor. No one suspected an old man, and he had been careful not to react with swords or violence. Just self-defence.

  ‘What are you doing?’ shouted the first man. More of the locals were standing up all around.

  ‘Your friend is drunk,’ Naus said, struggling to hold the downed man. ‘He tried to attack a Cephean. I doubt you want to bring the weight of the Temple’s soldiers down on the town. You were just saying-’

  ‘Get off me,’ said the man who was now face on the ground. Naus had a knee on his back. One wrong move and he would have an entire bar intent on his blood.

  ‘Listen to me,’ Naus said, addressing the whole bar clearly, his words slow and deliberate. ‘You don’t want to attack a Cephean. Whatever ill they may have caused you, vengeance will only lead to reprisals on your town and those of you left. I don’t want to hurt this man. I was saving him from making a grave mistake.’ He looked at the first man who had threatened them. ‘I will let your friend up. Take him home. Don’t let him back in here. For all of our sakes, mine included.’

  The man stared at Naus for a long moment, fists clenched and ready to knock an old man out cold. But he slowly saw reason. His fists relaxed.

  Naus stood and pulled the man to his feet. He pushed him towards the door and his friend followed, but not without a parting shot. ‘You’re a thoroughly disagreeable old man, aren’t you?’ He sneered and then left. With them both gone, Naus looked around the tavern; the Medusi hunters were on their feet looking for a fight, the other locals were all still on the verge of violence. He figured he could just leave, but in this kind of lawless place an anonymous knife in the back was a likely end. What he really needed to do was calm them, bring them around. Distract them.

  He had the perfect idea.

  He signalled the bartender with a performer’s thumb to forefinger symbol, and the bartender nodded. Naus approached the bar and turned to face the crowd.

  ‘Don’t mind my friend here,’ he began, indicating Crescen. ‘Pay him no mind. He will sit quietly and stay out of your way. But please, we have caused a commotion. I feel awful to have ruined your evening. Allow me to make amends. I was just telling our friend that I am a world-class storyteller from Theris.’ Naus watched as two Clerics arrived at the doors to the tavern and quietly positioned themselves at the back to listen. He was committed now, and tried not to think of the newcomers. It was time for a story. ‘Travelling performers need money to survive, so if you feel it in your hearts to give at the end then feel free, but I offer you this tale free of charge. I hope it goes some way to making amends for the scene we caused.

  ‘Now, maybe I would be well-advised to steer clear of Medusi-flavoured stories, but unless anyone has any objection I will tell the tale of Eleutheria and the War of the Overlords.’

  It was a long one, and some of the patrons knew that. A couple of smiles cropped up, knowing they were getting their money’s worth of free story, and they settled in to listen. A few crept to the bar and quietly ordered drinks to sate themselves for the duration. But no one argued. He had them. Now he just had to deliver. He cursed his memory, but thankfully the tales of Eleutheria were the types of memories that never really faded. They had been constantly reinforced throughout the centuries. What he could never remember was what had come before.

  The last thing he thought before he started was that with Crescen and the Clerics listening, maybe somewhere out there the Goddess herself was. But more importantly, Cassandra could also hear him through the Cephean network and she would find some way to share the tale with Totelun. It was one the boy needed to hear, and that Naus had been promising to tell him before they’d parted ways.

  He cleared his throat and imagined he was telling the story for Totelun’s sake.

  *

  Many of you will know the tale of Eleutheria’s founding of the great city of Theris more than a thousand years ago, how she fought bravely against the armies of the Overlords only to be forced to retreat and lay the foundations of a stronghold that could stand against them. A city with walls, moats, seas and even mountains to defend it. It’s the legend on which the Therian Empire was built, it’s the tale you’ve been hearing since you were young children at your mother’s knee.

  What we rarely get to hear is what happened afterwards. How did the war end? How come Theris still stands? What happened to Eleutheria, Velella and the Thorn?

  Our tale begins some years after the city was built. Eleutheria had established herself as the first Empress of the Therian Empire. But in reality, she had only a single city and many hungry enemies. The Empire would come later. The great host of people that had followed her across the Terracon steppe, the refugees of the battle of Bodas, now settled in a new land. They built farms and walls, markets and brothels, and a palace for their Empress. Her people began lives with each other and had children, hundreds of them. For a time, life was good in the verdant valley, food was plentiful. With this great peace came a great baby boom, and Eleutheria was not one to be left out. She gave birth to not one but two sons. One was the strapping warrior Kurtral, who strained against the leash of peace, longing for glory in battle. His father was Clariatus, her general and commander. Her other son was the peaceful Aidan, beloved by all and content with life in Theris, though his heart longed for nature. His father was The Thorn, the greatest assassin Arceth has ever known.

  This was the time which spawned the tales of Eleutheria’s harem, her smorgasbord of lovers and sexual antics. She had many more lovers besides these two famous men; rough and fearsome warriors, voluptuous courtesans, eager young politicians, the bold and the brilliant. She loved with abandon, the most beautiful of both sexes, and even some in between. It is said her appetites were insatiable. Although I don’t see any children around, we will have to save these bawdy tales for another time.

  This situation lasted for many years. Her sons became young men, took lovers of their own, Aidan fathering a young child and making The Thorn a proud grandfather.

  But peace and plentiful lovers can make a warlord like Eleutheria complacent. She forgot the concerns that lay beyond the valley’s mountainous limits. She thought she was safe.

  One morning, scouts on the wall of the city reported to her in a panic. An army was forming in the fields of the valley. She stood on the parapets, her silver hair streaming in the wind and remembered what lay beyond the mountain range. She remembered Velella, the Medusi witch and her prophecies that always came true.

  One prophecy in particular came to mind, one Velella had uttered before she had betrayed her Empress and fled the new city. It said that Eleutheria would found a dynasty that would last a thousand years, but only if she gave everything she had to protect it including her life. Out on the fields was the life she had left behind. The end of a war she had to finish in order to protect the city she loved.

  It would only cost
her life.

  Eleutheria took a force of soldiers, her very best men, and attacked immediately. She routed the army, damming the flow through the mountains and keeping Theris safe. But war called to her.

  The next ten years came like a deluge of blood staining the land. Battles studded Eleutheria’s days, forced marches marked her nights. Her army rode out from the Theris valley and attacked city after city. When a fortress fought back, she poisoned water supplies, or hurled flaming pitch over the walls. She starved whole towns, pillaged villages. Her army grew as she marched, for despite her ruthless tactics, the people of Arceth knew only she could rid them of the Overlords.

  There were seven Overlords in all, every one of them a powerful thralled mage.

  Odimus, the Leech, who drank the blood of his victims, was convinced his power lay in the life force of those he killed. The towns he controlled were like farms for humankind, children bred to be slaughtered. His men were cannibals and blood drinkers, the better to emulate their Overlord.

  Rynati, the Succubus. Her harem would have put Eleutheria’s to shame. She believed her magic was recharged through the pleasures of the flesh. She supposedly tried to seduce the Thorn once, but it is said he saw through her deception not a moment too soon.

  Kifurian, his name synonymous with the shapeshifter. Kifurian was the Overlords’ most subtle practitioner, using his gifts to infiltrate Eleutheria’s army on a number of occasions. Each time, only the harnessed skills of her own thralls were capable of exposing him.

  Ulimun, the Ancestor. Ulimun was the founder of what has become the practice of Medology. He was the eldest of the Overlords and thought himself the first philosopher of the magic they had found. His skills were meagre compared the those of his brethren and its likely even he never fully understood them.

  Next came Heikriss, Master of Storms. His powers allowed him to drown coastal towns with great tsunamis created out at sea or strike with the electric power of lightning. He is said to have been keen on burning his victims alive.

  The sixth was Minakun, the Gravity Dancer. Second in command, Minakun’s magic gave her control of gravity itself. She could fly and lift incredibly heavy objects with her powers. Unlike the others, there are few stories of her cruelty and many believe she maintained a normal temperament even after attaining her power.

  And finally Cepheus, Lord of the Overlords, Captain of the Andromeda. His power and even his name have become the words we use to describe the mind, for he could control his subjects at will. He retained control over the other Overlords with this skill.

  The Overlords did not all have overt powers, like those of Minakun and Cepheus. It has been argued by many since, that they simply possessed power, becoming like magnets to their followers.

  Over those ten years, Eleutheria’s army fought each and every one of the Overlords, breaking like waves against their strongholds. Each time her armies prevailed, assaulting a town or city, another Overlord would take back ground somewhere else. The war raged on and on, without a winner on either side.

  But without the magics that the Overlords were gifted by their Medusi, Eleutheria slowly began to lose ground. Her armies were pushed back on multiple fronts, commanders seduced by Rynati, or burned to death by Heikriss.

  In the tenth year since her return to the war, Eleutheria resolved to try a different tactic. She remembered the prophecy once again. If she was going to die to destroy the Overlords, because that is what it was coming down to, she needed to know more. She needed to know how to do it, she needed to know what would tip the balance in her favour.

  She left Clariatus in command and, donning a disguise, set out with the Thorn, to seek out Velella, her fugitive seer. They travelled to the furthest reaches of what became her Empire and into enemy controlled lands. On the eastern outskirts of the steppe, they found Velella’s retreat.

  How do you catch a seer, who knows when you are coming for them? Eleutheria resolved to use a trick. She told the Thorn that she intended only to talk to Velella. They split up and approached from different directions. As Velella could see both a future where they spoke civilly rather than only a future where she was killed, she allowed herself to be caught by The Thorn.

  When Velella was brought before her Empress, Eleutheria ordered the Thorn to give them some privacy. The two women spoke candidly of prophecies that are still being felt to this day. Eleutheria gained the information she needed to turn the tide of the war.

  But what did she discover? Well now, that would be spoiling things. All will be revealed.

  When they emerged from seclusion, Eleutheria ordered the Thorn to put an end to the Medusi witch. You betrayed me many years ago, she said. Velella wept, but it was to no avail. She had foreseen her own fate, Eleutheria had hidden her own intentions until the last moment, and the Thorn had never known. He took his blade and did his grim duty.

  But he didn’t forget what he was asked to do. The war continued and the Thorn was sent to assassinate Cepheus, the Overlord himself. He was not able to approach the Overlord’s fortress, defended on all sides by the surging swarms of Medusi that obeyed Cepheus’ every command. He heard talk of a cave system that backed onto the fortress. Inside, he was forced to hold his breath and swim underwater each time he wanted to reach the next section of the cave. He had to crawl through the tiniest gaps, so small it was a wonder a grown man could fit.

  But as soon as he made it inside the fortress, Cepheus was waiting for him. He overpowered the Thorn, and while he was on the ground, attached one of his Medusi to the Thorn’s neck. He was thralled once again.

  Cepheus commanded him to reveal where Eleutheria’s roaming stronghold was on the Terracon steppe. The story goes that the power of his mind control was not enough to compel information out of the Thorn, but he complied anyway. The Thorn willingly turned on Eleutheria. We can only guess at the Thorn’s motives so many centuries later, but he had recently been asked to murder one of Eleutheria’s most trusted advisors. If Velella was expendable, who else was? His decision to betray his mistress brought him out ahead, before she could decide he was also expendable. A dangerous gamble, as we shall see.

  Cepheus sent Kifurian the shapeshifter in the guise of the Thorn himself. Complete with the knowledge of Eleutheria’s whereabouts and the Thorn’s own habits and mannerisms, Kifurian infiltrated Eleutheria’s inner sanctum and was granted access by all her most trusted guardsmen. He approached her as she lay entertaining a young soldier. Only at the very last moment did Eleutheria realise what was happening. She fought Kifurian off and managed to stab him, but he escaped with his life.

  Eleutheria knew the only way she could have been found was if the Thorn had betrayed her. Her rage was fearsome and she avenged herself. She found the Thorn’s son, her own son, the peaceful and kind Aidan, and his lover and killed them both with her own hands. The two young children they cared for together she smothered in their beds. Let this story be a lesson, never to betray and fail. Retribution can have terrifying results.

  When the Thorn was shunned by Cepheus and the Overlords as untrustworthy, uncontrollable and unfit to serve them, he returned to his Empress like a dog with its tail between its legs. And Eleutheria allowed him to serve, confident he was beaten. They had known each other since the very beginning, and she would not turn him out. She had already taken everything else from him. He was a broken man now, his son and his grandchildren dead by her hand, yet he blamed only himself.

  Eleutheria gathered a great host, the greatest army she had ever mustered. She took Clariatus and his son Kurtral, along with a hundred other commanders and battle groups. They would attack every Overlord at once. Eleutheria was well aware her numbers were not strong enough for this kind of offensive, but apart from one, all other efforts were feints meant to draw away the Overlord’s forces. She intended to fight Cepheus, and Cepheus only.

  For this is what Velella had foretold: Do not concern yourself with the other Overlords, only Cepheus. Focus all strength on him. If you can get
close to him, even if you must sacrifice yourself to do it, you must kill him. Without the control of their Captain, they will fall to destroying each other, eventually your armies will be capable of handling the last of them.

  It was a battle to end all battles, fought on seven fronts. Each force was independent of each other. Clariatus led an army against Heikriss, the Master of Storms, and his army were made to fight in the most devastating tempest to have ever assaulted Arceth. The howling wind blew his soldiers off their feet, the rain turned to hail and lashed so hard it cut their faces, lightning struck the army’s provisions, burned their great apparatus of war. Burning men covered the battlefield.

  Others of her generals fought the remaining Overlords, but over the course of the battle her armies began to fall. It happened first in small ways, routes that hurt her advance, counteroffensives that devastated whole contingents, and soon whole armies were being destroyed. The most devastating was the loss of her son, Kurtral. Warring against Minakun, the Gravity Dancer, Kurtral’s army faced flying soldiers, boulders raining from the sky, and could not even count on the ground beneath them to remain solid. For many days and nights they fought, managing to destroy the city that Minakun called home, whose name has been lost to the ages. But Minakun didn’t die with her city. Instead, she enacted the greatest magic she could muster in a last-ditch attempt to save the people she ruled, who it is said she loved dearly. She wove a magic of gravity so strong that it still lasts to this day.

  The very ground under Kurtral’s army began to rumble, and shake, like a great earthquake. But soon he could see this was not all. The land his armies fought upon ripped free from the surface of Arceth, and rose into the sky, fifty feet, a hundred, a thousand. Great islands of earth, rock and soil floated up into the sky, taking Kurtral’s army with it and removing them from the battle. Most agree it is too cold that high up to survive, and his army would have perished within hours. We now know them as the Floating Islands, a constant reminder in our skies of the power the Overlords wielded.