by D. L. Kramer
"Good," Adie twisted water from her hair, the sleeves of her blouse and her sash. "Makes it easier for us." She pulled her dagger from the sheath on her belt.
"Then let's go start a war," Nahtan said. He took the lead as they made their way between the buildings and toward the west gates. From this side, they saw the archers hiding on the wall, not daring to come out for fear of being shot by the Mo'ani.
Nahtan and the others stayed close to the wall and out of sight of the archers. They all knew it was only a matter of time until they were spotted, but wanted to be as close to the gates as they could. Nahtan heard the sounds of their boots as they walked, and hoped it wasn't as loud as he feared it was.
Finally, when they were barely ten yards from the gates, they heard a shout and a warning bell sounded above them. They didn't bother trying to stay hidden now and stepped forward to confront the church guards running toward them.
With the wall behind them, it was fairly easy to move along and still fight. After several long minutes, they had drawn even with the gates. Nahtan stepped in to take Brijade's place as she turned to unlock the bolts. For the archers to get a clear shot down at them, they needed to stand up, and that brought a fatal shot from the Mo'ani on the other side of the wall. In the time it took for Brijade to move behind him, four archers fell to their deaths, arrows sunk deeply into their chests.
Seconds later, Nahtan heard the heavy bolts give way. Knowing what was coming, each person dove for one side or the other as the gates swung open. The expressions on the church guards' faces when they saw the heavily armed Mo'ani and Dweller armies on the other side was complete fear. Many dropped their weapons and turned to run as the cavalry charged through the wide opening. The few who remained to defend their posts were quickly cut or shot down.
Bear and Chase galloped through after the cavalry, leading Tyran, Essian and Aloyse while Kile came through with Adie's, Jaron's and Tosia's horses. Mo'ani and Evaine rode right behind them.
Nahtan pulled his cloak off of Tyran's saddle and swung it around his shoulders, clasping it with one hand. He pulled himself up into Tyran's saddle as the infantry began marching past. Thousands of Mo'ani and Dwellers poured through the gates, and Nahtan knew the same thing was happening on the other side of the city.
"Anyone care to go to the Grand Cathedral?" he asked, his heart still pounding from the fight and thunder of the cavalry. "I could sort of use a guide." The heavy wool of his cloak was already starting to warm him up and he rubbed it against his arms and hands.
"We'd be delighted," Evaine smiled.
"Let's go," Kile turned Nicho toward the city center and took the lead through the streets. Behind them, a small unit of Mo'ani followed.
They had barely turned two corners when they came across a line of church guards, waiting to hold them back. The officers sat on their horses behind the infantrymen. Shifting their positions uneasily, it was clear the men on foot didn't want to confront the Mo'ani on horseback. Nahtan spurred Tyran forward at a trot, then pulled him in several yards away.
"We're not here to fight with you," he told them. "But we'll oblige if you insist."
As the men shifted again, one of the officers began barking commands for them to advance. When it was apparent that the church guards would not stand aside, Nahtan glanced over his shoulder at Kile and sighed.
As he turned forward again, Kile and Mo'ani's horses stepped up beside him. The three waited for the church guards to break into a run before spurring their horses forward. With Brijade, Jaron and Jerai directly behind them, the six cut their way through the church infantry quickly. As Kile turned Nicho towards the officers, they broke ranks and spurred their horses down the nearest side streets.
Their advancement through the city was hindered at every length of street by similar church guard lines. A few times the officers joined in the fight, but not enough for Nahtan's liking. He had no doubt that eventually a group of Mo'ani would find an entire grouping of officers.
As they advanced further towards the center of the city, it became apparent that the Mo'ani and church guards were engaged in nearly every section of Herridon. It wasn't long before Nahtan saw more than a dozen plumes of black smoke rising from the buildings along the northern edge.
Each guard line they crossed, Nahtan's wrist would shoot pains through his hand or arm with each blow he intercepted or dealt. Concentrating on what he was there for, he forced himself to ignore them.
It took them nearly three hours to reach the Grand Cathedral. A Mo'ani army was already there, fighting the church guards surrounding the gate. They left their horses a safe distance away, then joined the fight.
Nahtan chose the most direct route to the gate, taking down any church guard who stepped in his way. Most apparently thought he'd be an easy target without his armor and he often found himself being approached from more than one side. Brijade stayed by him, as did Bear. He noticed Bear once again held the warhammer he had used to break the altar in his village. Bear used it to break the head or back of any church guard who got too close.
Nahtan finally cut down the last church guard in his path just as Kile and Mo'ani broke through beside him. Adie, Tosia, Jaron and Jerai joined them shortly after, Jaron holding a wounded arm. Nahtan noticed a tear and red spot on the shoulder of Adie's blouse, but she wasn't paying it any attention so he didn't mention it.
In the next few minutes, the Mo'ani broke through the remainder of the church guards. The few guards who were still alive broke ranks and disappeared down the narrow streets. Nahtan knew they wouldn't escape; eventually they'd run into another Mo'ani or Dweller group.
Nahtan started to push on the gate when he saw Adie climbing over it. She dropped to the other side, quickly pulling it open and securing it. The yard behind the gate seemed much larger than Nahtan remembered it and it seemed to take forever to cross as they all broke into a run for the domed cathedral.
Nahtan knew the Archbishop would be found in the Grand Cathedral, and turned that way while Mo'ani split the army, sending half to the castle and the other half into the cathedral behind them.
The heavy doors weren't locked and Nahtan pushed them open easily. Before, they had entered from a rear door on the same side as the castle. This way seemed strangely formal to him and he shrugged the feeling off.
The main hall was solid white, with the Archbishop's banner hanging on the far wall. The hall divided into two directions. As the Mo'ani disappeared down either side of the hall, Nahtan walked over to the banner. He traded his sword to his left hand, then took hold of the banner in his right and yanked it from the wall. The banner had no place in the cathedral. The only ones who should be represented here were Zakris and his daughters.
The tapestry fell heavily to the floor as Nahtan turned away from it. Adrenaline and anger coursed through him as he traded his sword back to his right hand.
"Which way to the central chamber from here?" he asked, looking at Mo'ani.
Mo'ani motioned down the left hallway.
"You're sure he's there?" Mo'ani asked.
Nahtan nodded. "He's there," he said. "And he's waiting for us." He couldn't tell them how he knew where the Archbishop was, it was just something he was sure of.
"Let's go then," Brijade said. "No sense in keeping him waiting any longer."
Nahtan turned down the left hallway and took the lead. He turned again where Mo'ani told him to, reminding himself to keep his eyes open for church guards. It wasn't long before they came across a small group of about ten guards waiting down a side hallway. They were attacked immediately, and found themselves fighting back to back as another small group advanced on them from the front.
With only one good arm, Jaron was quickly injured and had to be pulled to the center. Nahtan and Brijade took a side-by-side stance in the narrow hallway. Brijade would disarm the church guards then Nahtan would cut them down.
It took them longer than Nahtan expected to fight their way past the church guards ahead of them. When the
last one was dead, he turned back towards the direction Mo'ani indicated. They had just started moving again when a motion down one of the hallways made him pause to focus on the lone figure standing there. Kiril looked back at them, his eyes steady as he met Nahtan's gaze. Kile saw Kiril at the same time.
"Ye go on," Kile said to Nahtan, turning to face Kiril fully. "I'll make sure he doesn't get in ye're way."
"Kile, don't," Adie said. "You don't know what he's got planned--"
"I'll be all right," Kile assured her. "Ye've got to get the lad to the central chamber." He pulled the stiletto from his belt and walked down the hall toward Kiril.
Nahtan watched for a moment, then turned to continue down the hall. He hoped Kile was right and that Kiril would turn back to their side. He also reminded himself that Kile was a better swordsman than Kiril. Bear and Evaine helped Jaron to his feet, though it was quickly evident he wouldn't be able to go much further.
"There's a study just down that hall," Evaine motioned to the hallway just ahead of them. "We can lock the door and I'll stay there with him."
Nahtan nodded and turned down the hall. Adie quickly picked the lock and opened the door, letting them in. They helped Jaron to one of the cushioned sofas and he collapsed onto it. Tosia immediately began checking her brother's wounds and made him as comfortable as she could.
"How is he?" Nahtan asked after she had laid his tunic back against him.
"He shall live," she answered. "But requires time to heal."
"We'll get him back to Yenene as soon as we can," Nahtan promised.
Tosia nodded, turning back to her brother. "I'll stay here with Lady Bavol and Jaron," she said quietly. "Should any try to break the door, an archer's skills will only be good for the first moment or two."
"All right," Nahtan agreed. "We'll be back as soon as we can."
Tosia gave Nahtan an embrace before they left, wishing him luck. Nahtan held the slight Dweller for a moment before turning to follow Brijade from the room. Adie locked the door again, leaving Evaine and Tosia to watch over Jaron. Nahtan silently asked Halona to watch over Kile, Jaron, Tosia and Evaine. He didn't know if he could stand to lose anyone else he cared about.
Mo'ani continued to direct Nahtan to the central chamber and they reached its doors within a matter of minutes. Off in the distance, they could hear the shouts of another fight and Nahtan caught the momentary concern in Adie's eyes. When none of the voices were Kile's she seemed to relax some.
Nahtan paused, his hand on the gold edged door. His heart was pounding in his chest and he couldn't be sure if the back of his tunic was still wet from the swim in the canal or from sweat. He pushed his hair back from his eyes, took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy doors.
The central chamber was dimly lit and exactly as Nahtan remembered it from Kile's murder trial. The pews ran in two rows about two-thirds of the way up the room with a dais and altar off center at the front. Torches ran along the walls, with every fourth one lit. Standing behind the altar was the Archbishop, his eyes pinned on the doorway. Nahtan immediately realized something was wrong.
The Archbishop clutched a medallion on a chain around his neck and was frantically mouthing something. His twisted hands shook violently and he stopped speaking when he saw Nahtan. His eyes shifted over the entire group, pausing on Mo'ani, then went back to Nahtan.
"Thou truly art a demon from another world," he said, his voice trembling.
"Such a fine time to take on formality, Daenyn," Mo'ani said coldly. Nahtan turned to glance at him, and could see the anger in the old man's eyes. The Archbishop was Mo'ani's own cousin? The wrongness of the situation nagged at him all the more. "I pray Tomaz is waiting for you," Mo'ani finished.
The Archbishop turned back to Mo'ani and his trembling steadied somewhat. "He was weak," he managed through gritted teeth. "You were the only reason he lived to wear the crown."
Mo'ani's eyes narrowed and he stepped up beside Nahtan. "You killed his father too," Mo'ani realized, his knuckles growing white on his sword.
The Archbishop glanced nervously at Nahtan. "I had to," he said. "Tomaz had to die for me to take the throne, but as long as you were his protector, I couldn't get near him. When he was crowned king, he no longer fell under the 'Noble Captain's' watchful eye."
Nahtan watched the exchange, his mind filling with realizations of his own. The Archbishop had been seduced into the assassinations in order to gain power. But power for whom? The face that had escaped him in the library with Meda and Rena rushed forward, bringing everything into sharp focus. There was only one person who would spread such corruption and seek to gain power over the mortals. Power he hoped would let him find the soul that had escaped him once before.
Nahtan approached the dais, his sword lowered. This wasn't who he was here to confront. "Where's your master?" he asked evenly. "You're nothing more than a puppet." He could clearly see what role the Archbishop played over the centuries. He was nothing more than someone to present to the people, someone for whom they could direct their devotion or hatred, while his real master used him for his own plans.
"I have no master," the Archbishop responded through clenched teeth. He clutched the medallion tighter as Nahtan drew closer to him.
"Who told you to poison Tomaz?" Nahtan pressed. "Who told you to start blood sacrifices?" He knew the answer, but wanted the others to hear it from the Archbishop. It was so obvious to him now, he didn't know why he hadn't realized it sooner. He lifted the point of his sword to the Archbishop's eye level.
"I--I have no master," the Archbishop insisted, his face pale.
"You're right, he's nothing more than a puppet. You're not here to confront him, as Halona thought you would be."
Nahtan turned to face the owner of the new voice. Tziyad stepped from the shadows, bringing gasps from the others. He knew who Tziyad was, and it was much more than the Archbishop's advisor.
"You've spent two centuries looking for me and couldn't even accomplish it with one of the most powerful mortals." Nahtan turned to face Tziyad fully, his sword still ready. "You knew my name, and couldn't find me. You knew where I would grow up, and couldn't find me."
"You are not mortal," Tziyad responded, walking to the dais. "I could not know you like the others."
Nahtan stepped towards him. "You tasted my blood," he said coldly. "Just as I tasted your fear. You know me like I know you." Zared had despised him because he feared him. He feared Nahtan would turn Jensina away from him, not realizing his own actions accomplished that more effectively than Nahtan ever could have. He feared Nahtan was a new god and would usurp his power. Nahtan couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of Zared's ignorance.
"I have no master," the Archbishop repeated to no one in particular.
"I think I'm through with you," Tziyad said, motioning absently towards the Archbishop. The Archbishop screamed and doubled over, then collapsed behind the altar. Tziyad looked out at Mo'ani. "Just as my brother should be through with you," he told him.
"When Zakris releases me," Mo'ani answered, his voice even. "Then I'll accept what fate he gives me. But he's obviously not done with me yet."
Tziyad growled and looked back at Nahtan. "You are trapped within a mortal body," he pointed out. "And are limited as such."
"It was your actions that made me this way," Nahtan returned. "And the pain you gave me reminded me who I was. You gave me the means to find you and destroy everything you've built here." Nahtan's eyes narrowed. "But just as I'm 'trapped' in a mortal body, so are you. There will be no lions to devour my soul this time."
"I can destroy you," Tziyad threatened, his voice low as he ignored Nahtan's statement.
Without a single word or movement from Tziyad, Nahtan cried out and collapsed onto the floor.
Sixteen - "I wasn't there to fight with 'im"
Tyran was gone. Nahtan knew the great horse had been killed instantly, ripping him from his conscious mind. As his knees buckled, he felt Bear's and Jerai's hands grab his arm
s, pulling him back up. Nahtan struggled to speak, to tell them what happened, but his mind was in confusion and he couldn't form a single word. It was as if every conscious part of his mind had been spun around then put back but in the wrong place.
"Ayita!" Jerai hissed into his ear, somehow knowing what had happened. Nahtan wondered if he recognized the effect from other Dwellers who had lost their horses suddenly. "She's here with a Dweller. You have a bond with her. Find it now! It's the only thing that can save you!"
Nahtan struggled to remember who Ayita was. He knew the name, and vaguely remembered it belonged to a horse. After what seemed an eternity, he recalled the Dweller's mare with the dark eyes. She was there, somewhere, in his mind. He searched deeply for her presence, digging through the jumble of his thoughts and memories. Finally, he found the slight bond and reached for it, calling her name.
Ayita answered him immediately, her presence filling his mind with the suddenness of a dam breaking. Slowly, he gathered his feet under him and regained his balance. His head pounded and his ears rang as his thoughts fell back into place. It took another several seconds for his eyes to focus. As everything finally settled, the last of his memories returned.
Zared ripping at his throat, taking his voice from him so he could not cry out to Jensina. Zakris carrying him from Jensina's house and to his own realm, healing his soul slowly over the centuries until it was strong enough to be born into a mortal's body. Zared's presence always hovering near, trying to find him again but unable to see past Zakris. The fallen god had devoted so much of his time to finding him that it was almost unfathomable to the mortal mind.
"Tell them your true self," Nahtan ordered Tziyad, resting one hand on a nearby pew to hold himself steady. It took all his concentration to both stand and to face the god. "Let the gods see the twisted soul who desecrated their temples and sacrificed their children. You've hidden yourself well, not even Zakris knows where you've been the last two centuries." He heard murmured voices from behind him as his friends realized who he was talking about. He raised his sword and took a step forward.