“Nani and I have always been close,” Pehr said, his voice ambivalent. Josep gave a short, bitter-sounding laugh, but he chose not to comment on this statement.
“I could not reconcile her faith with my desire to meet your challenge,” he continued. “It will be difficult to stand behind someone after two years at the front.”
“Then stand at my side, Josep!” Pehr said. “Give me your council, your strength, and your skill with the club. Help me to convince our people and to unite the tribes. Help me save us all.”
Josep sighed, closed his eyes, and ran a hand over his face. “How do I choose? How can I know what is right? You’re asking me to deny traditions that we’ve held for as far back as our history tells and believe instead in a man who has returned from the dead with stories of miracles beyond anything I’ve ever dreamed. Damn it all.”
“You have known me all your life,” Pehr said. “Listen to your heart.”
“My heart belongs to Nani,” Josep said. “I know what her choice would be, and I … I believe she would be right to make it. So be it, Khada’Pehr. I will stand not behind you but at your side, first of your council. I will make you an oath to lend you my aid, but you must swear to me in return that you will not let power lead you astray. You must seek always what is best for all of Uru and not only yourself.”
He took his bone knife from its sheath and set it on the table, looking up at Pehr. “Will you make this oath with me?”
“I will,” Pehr said. “I swear to you and to all of the world that I will try at every step to do only what is best for them, that I will act always for them and not for myself.”
Pehr reached out and picked up the knife with his left hand, gripping the blade with his right and drawing it across his palm. Pain lanced through him and blood welled, beginning to drip on the table as he handed the knife to Josep. The hunter did the same, and the two shook hands. To break an oath sworn in such a way meant immediate death at the hands of the village hunters. The two men looked at each other for a moment more, and then Josep nodded and released his grip.
“It is done,” he said, and without further comment he turned and made his way toward the door at the end of the hall. Pehr took a deep breath, turned, and followed.
* * *
Pehr lay on a mat of dried, woven reeds, spread out on the sandy ground beneath him, and stared up at the stars in the dark sky. Josep and Nani had invited him to stay in their home, but he had thought it better to go his own way and had settled by an abandoned and partially burnt home on the outskirts of the village.
Pehr had stored his meager possessions inside the small thatched hut, but after two years of sleeping in hide tents or under the open sky, he found the dwelling somewhat oppressive. He chose instead to make his fire and bed outdoors, at least until the next rain came. The cool sea air was a welcome comfort after so many months on the plains, and the crackling fire to his side kept any chill away.
Word of the oath he had made with Josep had spread rapidly around the village, and Pehr had spent the last several hours fielding questions from a wide variety of visitors. Not all of them had gone away happy, and Pehr suspected that there would be many defections in the coming days as merchants and farmers packed up their families and left for other villages. Not everyone wished to give up this life to chase what seemed to them a fairy tale. In the end, he supposed, it didn’t matter. What would happen would happen, and he would press on regardless. He had promises to keep.
“I am doing my best, Tasha,” he said to the stars. He didn’t know if she could hear him, and knew that the girl with the purple eyes herself would have doubted it, but it comforted him to speak to her nonetheless.
The last of his visitors had departed some time ago, around sunset, but he could hear footsteps now from the east, and when he glanced in that direction he saw Nani walking toward him. She had brought him a plate of food, and after handing it to him she sat down next to him on the ground.
“You could have told me,” she said, and Pehr shook his head.
“If you had known, you would have tried to use that knowledge to turn Josep away from the battle.”
Nani considered this and nodded. She chewed on her lip for a moment and glanced over at him. “Josep says you will be King, like in the stories of the Great Old Grandfathers.”
“Our people have never had a King. Perhaps I will be Prime Minister … it’s in my blood.”
This earned him nothing but a confused look, and Pehr smiled, shaking his head. “Forget it, Nani. Thank you for the food – it’s a welcome change from salted tral meat, but do not trouble yourself overmuch. I’m fine here, and I will see you tomorrow. It will be a few weeks yet before I’m ready to leave.”
“You could have killed him,” Nani said, and Pehr nodded.
“I could have done that, yes, but we all have seen more than enough killing.”
“Did you want to?” Nani wouldn’t look at him, and he could see that she was trembling. “For a moment, I … I …”
Pehr chose his next words carefully. “Two years ago, I told you that I wanted you to make sure Josep lived, so that you could bear him many strong sons and daughters. Nani, I meant it.”
Nani turned to look at him now, and for a long time she said nothing, watching his eyes. Pehr looked back, and at last she gave him a small, sad smile. “It’s good to see you again … cousin.”
I have missed you every single day that I was away, Pehr thought, but out loud he said only, “It is good to see you as well.”
Nani nodded and stood, her heavy belly making the act more difficult than it would otherwise have been. When at last she reached her feet, she bid him goodnight and headed for home. Pehr watched her go, poking at the fire with a stick and eating the last few pieces of bread that she had brought him. Nani did not look back over her shoulder before disappearing over a hill and out of sight, and Pehr was glad for it.
Night had fallen, and Pehr lay on his mat, listening to the sound of the surf in the distance. The sound was familiar and hypnotic, lulling him slowly toward sleep, and Pehr made no effort to resist. It had been a difficult day – not the last, he was sure – and he would need both his strength and his wits for the trials ahead. He looked one last time at the stars, his newly augmented mind now able to give names to the constellations above, and closed his eyes.
Pehr dreamed.
“Are you well?” Tasha asked him, sitting before him cross-legged in the inky blackness through which they floated, and Pehr nodded.
“Well enough. And you? Have you found the answers to all of your questions?”
“Yes,” Tasha told him, and then the ghost of a smile became a full-fledged grin. “… and no.”
“I was wondering if you’d visit me again. I’m glad to see you.”
“Are you glad to be home?” Tasha asked, and when Pehr was quiet for a moment, a small smirk appeared on her lips.
“I’ve missed this place terribly, and there are many reasons to be glad, but it isn’t the same place I left.”
“And you are not the same person who left it.”
“I am not.”
“Some things are still the same, no? Sili is still here … and she is still ample.”
Pehr laughed. “I was too late for Sili. She visited me earlier and introduced me to her new baby.”
“Poor Pehr. Don’t lament it … she’s not your type anyway,” Tasha said.
Pehr shrugged. “Tasha … you’ve not come here to talk about Sili. What is it? Is there more that you would have me do?”
Tasha shook her head.
“I’ve come to say goodbye.”
Pehr shook his head, unable to find words to express his dismay. The path he had chosen might bring him many followers, but he thought there would be few friends. He could feel the pain of her loss anew, as if it had been hours and not weeks since she had died.
“Must you?”
Tasha nodded. “I will live in your memories, Pehr, but not in your dreams.”
“But I need you. I need your knowledge, your conviction …”
“You have a flood of tiny computers attached to your neurons now, my friend. Don’t tell me you actually believe I am some spirit made manifest through your dreams.”
“If you’re merely a projection of my subconscious, I value your presence no less,” Pehr said.
Tasha laughed. “I understand, but I must go. From here there is only the path you make, and it is not my part to guide you on it. I can only wish you well and give you my love. I’m your sister, Pehr, and so I will always be, but my time with you is done. You belong to Uru now.”
Pehr felt a great sadness weighing down upon him, but he knew there was no argument he could make that would change these things. He took a deep breath and said, “I love you, sister. I will always love you, and I will honor your memory – and Jace’s – by doing what is right for our people.”
“I know,” Tasha said. “I have faith in you.”
Pehr was silent for a time, and Tasha let him be, closing her eyes as if in meditation.
“Do you know how it all ends?” Pehr asked at last, and Tasha opened her eyes. She shrugged.
“It ends as it begins … there is darkness, and then there is light. We have no control over the end, Khada’Pehr of the western lands. We have only the time that is given us.”
“Goodbye then, Tasha. I hope I will see you at the end, and I hope you’ll have found your answers.”
Tasha smiled at him, beginning to fade, becoming dark and translucent like a reflection in a moonlit pool of water. When little was left of her but a wisp, like smoke in a dim room, she held her hand out to him, palm out, fingers spread. Pehr reached forward and pressed his hand to hers, but there was nothing there to touch. Tasha was gone, and once more Pehr found himself surrounded by blackness. Exhausted, he gave himself up to it.
Khada’Pehr, heir to the Mombutabwe line and the last, best hope for the remaining people of Earth, slept in peace.
Epilogue
In the year 11,345 of the Great Destruction, the warrior king Khada’Pehr A’Mombutabwe led his army through the jungle, reuniting the split halves of his people and bringing them to the city of Havenmont, where they set about restoring the greatness of years long past. In time they built anew a great age of men, and Khada’Pehr became the first of many Prime Ministers, and a trusted advisor to those who followed. When at last he came to the end of his path, he was burnt in the old way by his wife of many ages, the queen Kissha A’Samhad, and scattered by the winds to the corners of Uru.
We, his former subjects, erect this stone on our day of departure in celebration and in mourning. Khada’Pehr has gone to a place beyond the stars, and we pray that he watches over us still, and will guide us on our journey. We leave today for the heavens, as he had always hoped we would, and this stone shall mark our passing. What the future holds for mankind, or for the world we leave behind, we cannot know.
We can say only that we were, we are, and because of our great King, we shall continue to be.
The Citizens of Havenmont
12,234 GD
The End
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this book, please consider rating and reviewing it at Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, or iTunes. It really helps!
Want More Information?
There’s lots of ways to stay in touch:
Visit Christopher Buecheler’s Writing Blog
Follow @cwbuecheler on Twitter
Like Christopher Buecheler on Facebook
Subscribe to Christopher Buecheler’s Writing Newsletter
About the Author
Christopher Buecheler is a professional web designer / developer, a published author, an award-winning amateur mixologist, a brewer of beer, a player of the guitar and drums, and an NBA enthusiast.
He lives a semi-nomadic existence with his wonderful French wife, Charlotte and their two cats, Carbomb and Baron Salvatore H. Lynx II. Currently they reside in Providence, Rhode Island.
You can visit him at http://cwbuecheler.com/
Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
The End
Stay In Touch
About the Author
The Broken God Machine Page 28