Harvest of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy)

by Debra Holland

  “Such othersense power you have,” Tranca marveled. “The energy radiates from you. We are blessed to have you come among us, Sadie Issacson.”

  “Call me Sadie.”

  Philan sauntered over to them and greeted Tranca and Binkcal.

  Tranca gave him a slight nod. “Withea has told us of the loss of your grandsire and the rest of your family, Philan of Seagem. Micfal has long been a welcome visitor when he came with your king. Seagem’s princes and—” she tilted her head in Thaddis’s direction “—our own, always spoke highly of him.”

  Emotion sheened in Philan’s eyes, and he swallowed.

  Binkcal barked a laugh. “Not always highly,” he corrected. “Sometimes they arrived with their bruises still purple from a whack from the flat of Micfal’s sword. But they entertained us with many stories of their encounters with your grandsire.” His face saddened. He obviously had remembered the boys he spoke about were also dead. The Archpriest placed a comforting hand on Philan’s shoulder. “They all will live on in our memory. Welcome to Ocean’s Glory, Philan, grandson of Micfal. May there forever be peace between our peoples.”

  Philan flashed them his charming smile, although the hint of grief didn’t leave his eyes. “Peace sounds good to me.”

  As more people flowed into the room, Thaddis’s group moved to the side. The crowd even spilled into the arched doorway of Besolet’s inner shrine. When Thaddis glanced that direction, even though he expected it, the sight of Besolet’s empty pedestal gave him a shock. The room appeared ordinary without the figure of the Goddess, the scent of tashalily, and the colorful patterns inlaid with jewels that had decorated the walls.

  Binkcal’s gaze followed his. “You’ll be pleased to hear the statues of Besolet reside in the basement of the palace.”

  Thaddis met Sadie’s eyes, and they shared a look of amusement.

  Without noticing the exchange, Binkcal continued. “A priest or priestess continually guards Besolet, careful to keep from thinking about Her. We don’t want to give Her energy in any form. We don’t want Her to have the strength to leave the vicinity of Her statue.”

  In relief, Thaddis exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

  The Archpriestess placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “We have commissioned a figure of Withea, but the statue is not yet finished. As you can see, the walls are bare. Some of the jewels were distributed to those impacted by the war, and the remainder is set aside for reparations to Seagem.”

  “Reparations are needed. There are survivors in Zacatlan and more have survived in Seagem’s city.”

  The Archpriest inclined his head. “So Guinheld has told us. A blessing indeed.”

  “Send masons and carpenters to Seagem,” Thaddis ordered. “Along with whatever else is needed to begin rebuilding, along with half of our remaining army to guard them in case the seadogs return. The soldiers can help with the repairs as well.” He finished, then realized he’d spoken as the ruler he no longer was. He debated about apologizing but decided not to. His commands had been valid.

  “I shall see to it,” said a familiar voice said from behind him.

  Thaddis turned to see Ogan, his first councilor, looking thinner and older than he remembered. He wished he could greet the man, who’d been both his councilor and his conscience, with a hug. But, instead, he kept his arms to his side. “Ogan, I have wronged you, my good friend and mentor. Always you gave wise advice. If only I could have heeded your words.”

  The councilor’s eyes filled.

  Ogan had always been a sensitive man. Something Thaddis the pawn had disparaged him for. But now, the councilor’s genuine emotion moved Thaddis. “I’m so sorry for everything. How I treated you, what I did to our country. To Seagem—”

  Ogan cut him off, with a small slashing motion. “I’m glad to see you well, Thaddis, in body and in mind. With Withea’s help, we are…healing.”

  “Speaking of Withea, the Goddess awaits your departure.” Tranca pointed to the doorway. We have prepared the War Room at the palace for you to brief everyone on the mission.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Thaddis paused in the doorway of room that up until the invasion of Seagem was called the Strategy Room. Although the space wasn’t large, it had a horseshoe shape and tiered seating running around three sides like an amphitheater. The room smelled dusty as if it hadn’t been opened in a long time.

  Large windows on the left side facing the ocean let in plenty of light, and he strode over to one and threw up the sash. A balmy breeze blew in, ruffling the maps of Seagem and Ocean’s Glory and a chart of the ocean depths pinned to the front wall.

  In the middle of the horseshoe stood the map table showing the world of Kimtair, with the two continents made of clay and a blue sand ocean in-between. The clay was colored—green for Seagem, orange for Ocean’s Glory, and white for Zacatlan. Carved replicas of important buildings perched on each country.

  Thaddis grimaced at the empty continent of Louat, with just a few structures on Ontarem’s City of Penutar, wishing he knew more about the country.

  Why didn’t I ask Pasinae more questions? But he knew the answer. Ontarem hadn’t wanted him to have that information.

  Sadie stepped into the doorway, Cheta at her heels. The dog saw him and dashed down the steps to sniff his legs just in case he’d picked up some new interesting smell since the last time she’d checked.

  Eyes bright with interest, Sadie’s gaze fell on the table. “Oh, you have a 3-D map.” She jogged down the steps and over to the table, studying it.

  “A what map?” Thaddis asked.

  Sadie gave him a rueful glance. “Three dimensional. Not flat like that one.” She pointed at a map hanging on the wall. “I saw something like this in one of my othersense visions. Seagem.” She touched the peninsula. “Ocean’s Glory.” She slid her finger across his country. “Zacatlan.” She tapped an “egg,” then hovered her hand over the blue sand ocean. “You’re missing the Triangle Islands.”

  Thaddis frowned. “That’s because we didn’t know about them. We’ve fought the Seadogs for generations, but only when they attacked first. We’ve never gone after their nests.”

  As they discussed the map, more people had filed into the room, taking seats on one of the tiers. His people knew what to expect, but Meleda, Boerk, and Philan attended anyway. They followed Counselor Ogan into the meeting. The counselor motioned them to go down to the front, but he took a seat in the last row, his expression drawn.

  He must be remembering how over his objections, we planned the attack on Seagem in this room.

  Philan, Boerk, and Meleda stopped to study the table for a moment or two, then they along with Sadie, sat in the front row. Philan wore his grandsire’s badge of office. The emeralds sparkled in the light.

  While the officers of his fleet and army filed in, Thaddis opened the end of his tube and pulled out the maps he’d drawn with the help of Zacatlan’s cartographer—one of the Triangle Islands, and one of Penutar. When he turned to face the group, the black uniformed men had all seated themselves. Some shot him wary looks, but most kept their expressions impassive.

  Thaddis cleared his throat. “I think you all know by now that for these last fourteen years, my thoughts, my choices have been under the control of Ontarem—the Evil God we didn’t know existed. Because of His command over me…and at the complicity of our Goddess Besolet, I led you—” he looked directly at his officers “—into war against our neighbors and our friends. The damage we committed will haunt me the rest of my life.” He saw his own pain reflected in their faces, and anger at Ontarem flared within him.

  Swallowing down his burning ire, Thaddis strode over to the map and tapped the space between the three islands. “We believe Yadarius is imprisoned here in the midst of the islands where the dogs of the sea make their nest.” He thumped the side of his fist on Penutar. “Ontarem is here.”

  Thaddis looked directly at the admiral. “You will take the fleet, and sail in this di
rection to the Triangle Islands.” He traced a path that put the fleet between the islands and Penutar. “The plan is to draw the seadogs out to defend their territory, hopefully also keeping Ontarem’s attention and power centered on the battle.

  The admiral crossed his arms over his chest.

  “At the same time, using stealth, I will take a ship and under the cover of darkness—no lights, black sails—sneak to the islands.” He outlined a journey that took them down the coast of Ocean’s Glory and across to the islands traveling from the opposite direction of the fleet to reach their destination. “Each ship will have a member of the priesthood so they can communicate, and we can coordinate our attacks.”

  Once we free Yadarius, our ship will join the fleet, and together we will sail to Penutar to attack Ontarem’s city and bring down the Evil God.”

  The admiral rubbed his narrow jaw, obviously thinking.

  “Any questions?”

  Some of the officers tossed questions his way.

  Thaddis answered before going to diagram the attack on Penutar. He planned to use the army in the same way he used the fleet—to keep Ontarem’s forces occupied while his small band struck for the temple. When he finished, silence settled.

  Archpriest Binkcal appeared in the doorway. “You mustn’t tarry any longer, my Lord Commander. The tide turns in an hour.”

  “We’re ready.” Thaddis raked the room with a sharp glance. “If we don’t stop Ontarem, He’ll grow powerful enough to enslave the whole world—including your families…your children.”

  He saw the understanding in their eyes.

  The admiral stood. “A daring plan, Lord Commander. Fifty of our soldiers are already on board your ship.” He gave Thaddis a short bow. “May Withea go with you.”

  “And with you.”

  The man turned on his heel and strode out the door.

  Fifty. Plus the ones I have. Still so few to mount an attack against the Evil One.

  ~ ~ ~

  Pasinae stood in the temple, both arms upraised. The obsidian statue of Ontarem gazed upon her, the God’s eyes blue with pleasure. The exchange of energy flowed strongly between them. The shiny black stone around her shimmered, and the room vibrated with power. The familiar scent of geseret incense swirled through the air.

  Pasinae reveled in her increased strength and a renewed sense of well-being provided by the new crystals. Yadarius was safely contained—His struggles weakened to feeble movements that barely affected her. She basked in the warmth of Ontarem’s approval, doubly special and sustaining after feeling cold and distanced from her God for so long.

  In the private area beyond the main room, Pasinae could feel the two male priests gathering the energy from the people of the islands and linking to her to send to Ontarem. For the first time, she didn’t feel annoyed with having to deal with seadogs and foreign priests. Through their the search for the crystals, Vaptor and Dorent had proved their worth and more than enough energy flowed through Pasinae for her to feel tolerant—at least for now.

  Pasinae knew Ontarem would soon have to turn His attention back to the war with His brother. But they’d connected again, and that was all that mattered.

  With a twist, Ontarem’s presence changed, darkened. They dare!

  Her sense of well-being cut off. “What’s happening?”

  A fleet of ships cross the ocean boundary invading MY territory!

  The news hit her like a blow to the heart. “Are they heading to Penutar?”

  They sail for the Triangle Islands. They intend to free MY enemy.

  Pasinae struggled to take in the news. In all her plans, she’d never imagined a fleet of ships attacking to free the SeaGod. “How did they even learn Yadarius was here?”

  The woman from another world is very powerful. I WANT her!

  Pasinae reeled. “What woman?” she demanded.

  Withea called a woman from another world. The outworlder saw Yadarius in an othersense dream. I want her!

  “Is she on the fleet?” All her former frustration with the God returned. Once again, He’d withheld important information from her.

  I cannot feel her. But the energy of Withea and Guinheld permeate all aboard. Perhaps They hide her from me.

  Pasinae didn’t know whether to fear the news or rejoice. If they could capture this woman, she could provide valuable energy for their cause. But she could also prove to be a formidable enemy.

  Unleash the dogs of the sea. Destroy those who dare to invade MY realm.

  She bowed to the statue. “I will carry out your command, my God.”

  Ontarem severed the connection.

  Heart sore from having the precious exchange of energy cut short, Pasinae strove not to betray her feelings to the watching priests. She turned to them. “Send word to the captains of the invasion. Ready the seadogs for war. Leave one third behind to guard the islands. “You!” She pointed at Vaptor. “Go with them as my eyes and ears. Report regularly to Dorent. Now hurry!”

  The two gave her a hasty bow and hastened to do her bidding.

  Pasinae dared to approach the statue and lean a palm against Ontarem’s thigh, wishing… But He’d withdrawn, leaving her alone once again.

  The feeling of longing, of emptiness was not new to her—she’d felt it for years since Ontarem had stolen the triplets from their family to serve Him. But the God had always banished the feelings and filled her up. Except for when He punished her by withdrawing, He’d been enough. But that was before I remembered... Briefly, a longing for her lost family went through her, and Pasinae acknowledged the hollowness at her core before doing her best to wall the awareness away.

  We have to win this war, so Ontarem can once again focus on Penutar…on me!

  ~ ~ ~

  Sadie stood alone at the bow of the Wave Rider.

  Cheta leaned against her leg, chuffing at the breeze.

  Sadie had come seeking enough solitude in the crowded vessel to think though what had happened in Ocean’s Glory. The ship threaded through the traffic in the L-shaped harbor. Fishing boats, small skiffs, and what looked to Sadie like merchant ships, made way for the navy vessel. The scent of brine and fish wafted on the breeze.

  She glanced behind them at the city on the cliff, dominated by the huge orange palace, wishing she could have spent some time sightseeing. With a shiver, Sadie wondered if she’d ever return, then resolutely put that fearful thought out of her mind.

  When the ship reached open water, she heard the call of the captain, ordering full sails. Around her, sailors scurried to obey, moving in well-practiced precision. Black sails unfurled, snapping in the wind, filling to tautness.

  As she watched, the whole scene seemed surreal, as if she’d fallen into a historical movie, or back in time on Earth to when sailing ships ruled the ocean. Even the dark sails reminded her of the Black Pearl from The Pirates of the Caribbean. Withea planned for them to raid the Triangle Islands under the cover of darkness, with no white sails to betray their presence.

  Growing up, Sadie and her father had summered in Nantucket, and she’d had her own Sunfish. From an early age, she’d learned to navigate the little sailboat around the local waters. Plenty of her friends’ families had big sailboats, and she’d toured the historical Tall Ships when they anchored in Boston, but she’d never imagined sailing on one so huge.

  The wind caught the sails, filling them. The sailors trimmed the sheets till the vessel ran before the wind at speed. Exhilarated, she turned her face to the sun.

  Then Sadie felt the power of the Goddesses surge through her othersense. She heard Thaddis, Philan, and Boerk yell warnings, and she just had time to grab the rail and Cheta’s collar before the ship leaped ahead, speeding through the waves as if powered by rockets. Once Cheta planted her feet to withstand the speed, Sadie let her go and gripped the rail with both hands. The wind blew so strong against her face that the hair escaping her braid whipped her skin, and she could only squint through the heaviness of her eyelids. Sadie turned, keeping
her back to the force so she could open her eyes once again. There’d be no tacking in this gale. No need.

  Cheta leaned against her leg and shivered. But low against the deck, the dog was sheltered from the worst of the wind.

  Pulling himself hand over hand along the rail, Thaddis struggled toward her. He grasped her arm. “Get below, Sadie.”

  “I want to stay out here.”

  “Captain’s orders.” He shouted to make himself heard. Even so, the wind carried away his words.

  Sadie had to strain to hear him.

  “It’s too dangerous to linger on deck at this speed. If you fall overboard, we won’t be able to rescue you.”

  Sadie looked down at the water, seeing how fast the waves sped by. Her stomach pinched a little.

  “Only the necessary crew are allowed to remain on deck, and they all have safety ropes tied around their waists.” He pulled her arm.

  His touch spiked energy through her. Startled, Sadie looked at him, seeing the worry etched on his face, the concern in his gold eyes. She nodded her acquiescence.

  “You go first.” Keeping his left hand on the rail, Thaddis eased around her, spanning her body with his, until his right hand could grab the side.

  Pressed against him out of necessity, Sadie allowed herself to relax into his hold, warm and protecting, even though she didn’t release the rail.

  Cheta whimpered.

  “Cheta!” she shouted to be heard over the wind. “Come!”

  Thaddis scooped up the dog.

  Sadie gave him a grateful nod, then followed along the rail until they reached the ladder to below decks. She glanced toward Ocean’s Glory, not surprised to see the city had already faded out of sight, and even the faint line of the cliffs would soon sink into the horizon. Then she followed Thaddis below.

  Once out of the beat of the wind, Thaddis set Cheta down. “Try to get some rest, Sadie. Withea estimates at this speed She will have us to those islands by tomorrow night.”